"The flowers gave her their friendship; Her couch was on the ground. A happier, gayer maiden, Was nowhere to be found. "The air was filled with music Sung by the babbling brook. Sweet lullabies with chorus clear In which the flowers partook. "This maiden knew not sorrow, Until an evil day; When riding lone across the moors, A hunter lost his way. "And chancing on this valley, He met the maiden sweet. Her beauty overwhelmed him; He fell love-sick at her feet. "Despite the fervent warnings Of her friends the flowers and trees, She listened to his courting; And with him roamed the leas. "The leas, far from the valley, They rode the livelong night; Till a heavy mist descending Hid the roadway from their sight. "Uprose, then, forms of evil. From out the mocking gloom; And seizing horse and hunter scared, Left the maiden to her doom. "Travellers now within those regions, Through the nightly grey fog see A woman's shade crawl slow along, To a ghastly melody. "And those who linger--follow The phantom pale and wan. O'er hill and dale, and rill and vale It slowly leads them on. "On till they reach the valley, A valley grim and drear, Where lurid things with fibrous arms Their course through darkness steer. "And on the travellers palsied In frenzied crowd they pour. And those who view their faces, Are heard but seen no more." "Do you mean to say she dreamed all that?" Gladys exclaimed. "Yes," the Vicar's wife said. "She told me so and I have no reason to doubt her. She doesn't romance as a rule, and is certainly not the least bit in the world poetical--on the contrary she is most practical and matter-of-fact. Her only hobby, as far as I know, is flowers." "Mine, too!" Gladys interrupted. "Were you able to explain the verses?" "No, I can't interpret dreams. I'm intensely interested in them; as I am in all things psychic. I was at a lecture given by Mrs. Annie Besant last night! She--" "Do you know any one who does interpret dreams?" Gladys asked. "Why, yes! A firm, claiming to do all sorts of wonderful things--to tell dreams, solve tricks, divine the presence of metals and water, and so on, has just set up in Cockspur Street. I read a short notice about them in this morning's paper. I will get it for you." She left the room and in a few moments returned. "Here it is," she said. And under the heading of "Sorcery Revived" Gladys read as follows:-- "There is really no end to the devices to which people resort nowadays to make money, but for sheer novelty, nothing, we think, beats this. Three Americans, Messrs. Hamar, Kelson and Curtis, fresh from San Francisco, California, have just bought premises in Cockspur Street, S.W., and set up there as Sorcerers!