forced to take of this man whose strange case you ask me to deal with,--my opinion is that through chance or intention he has been playing recklessly with a great natural force, which he has not entirely understood, for some destructive purpose, and that it has recoiled on himself." Morgana looked him steadily in the eyes. "You may be right,"--she said--"He is--or was--one of the most brilliant of our younger scientists. You know his name--I have sent you from New York some accounts of his work--He is Roger Seaton, whose experiments in the condensation of radioactivity startled America some four or five years ago--" "Roger Seaton!" he exclaimed--"What! The man who professed to have found a new power which would change the face of the world? ... He,--this wreck?--this blind, deaf lump of breathing clay? Surely he has not fallen on so horrible a destiny!" Tears rushed to Morgana's eyes,--she could not answer. She could only bend her head in assent. Profoundly moved, Ardini took her hand, and kissed it with sympathetic reverence. "Signora," he said--"This is indeed a tragedy! You have saved this life at I know not what risk to yourself--and as I am aware what a life of great attainment it promised to be, you may be sure I will spare no pains to bring it back to normal conditions. But frankly I do not think it will be possible. There is the woman who loves him--her influence may do something--" "If he ever loved her--yes"--and Morgana smiled rather sadly--"But if he did not--if the love is all on her side--" Ardini shrugged his shoulders. "A great love is always on the woman's side,"--he said--"Men are too selfish to love perfectly. In this case, of course, there is no emotion, no sentiment of any sort left in the mere hulk of man. But still I will continue my work and do my best." He left her then,--and she stood for a while alone, gazing far out to the blue sea and sunlight, scarcely seeing them for the half-unconscious tears that blinded her eyes. Suddenly a Ray, not of the sun, shot athwart the loggia and touched her with a deep gold radiance. She saw it and looked up, listening. "Morgana!" The Voice quivered along the Ray like the touched string of an aeolian harp. She answered it in almost a whisper-- "I hear!" "You grieve for sorrows not your own," said the Voice--"And we love you for it. But you must not waste your tears on the errors of others. Each individual Spirit makes its own destiny, and no other but Itself can help Itself. You are one of the Chosen and Beloved!--You must fulfil the happiness you have created for your own soul! Come to us soon!" A thrill of exquisite joy ran through her. "I will!" she said--"When my duties here are done."