Our friends sat down near the door, where the hard-coal fire cast a dim light into the room, and directly opposite the cabinet. No other light was left in the room after the entrance of the medium. This person, who was tall and large-framed, and who weighed apparently about two hundred and fifty pounds, walked over to the tete and sat down. “I will sit here for a time, and perhaps we may have a manifestation before I am under control,” she said. “Will anybody please sing.” The spectators began to sing religious hymns, and almost immediately, to Mrs. Wylie’s astonishment, the curtains parted by invisible power and a little figure of light, with indistinguishable features, stepped forth. “Good-evening, everybody. How do you do?” came from it in a thin, piping voice. Some of those present, who had evidently seen the apparition before, addressed it as Starlight, and the vision vanished. The medium then arose and stepped into the cabinet. No sooner had she done so than three or four men’s voices were heard speaking together. One, a Jack Tar, with nautical phrases; another, the guttural voice of the American Indian, a third that of an educated citizen. Some in the audience seemed to recognize and greet the voices. After a period of quiet and another hymn the curtains again parted and a slender woman appeared. No one approached her as she stood before them and delivered a short oration, the theme of which was “Universal Progress,” the diction and thought in no wise remarkable. She withdrew to give place to another figure, which called a name in a soft, plaintive voice. “Oh, it is my wife!” cried a man in the audience, and he went forward, and grasping the materialized spirit by the arm, he led her forward about the room, while she shook hands with other friends who seemed to recognize her. Mrs. Wylie shook in an agony of apprehension. “Don’t, don’t let her come near me!” she gasped, while her heart beat to suffocation. She looked at the white, eager face of Mrs. Lucien, and the not less interested face of her husband. She clutched him by the arm, while she grew hot and cold by turns. But the figure turned away before reaching her, and stepped back into the cabinet. Then several others came out and were recognized, kissed, and spoken to by friends. At length came the figure of a man, who spoke in a faint voice. The usher came to the lady sitting next to Mrs. Wylie upon the left. “It is for you,” he said. The lady arose, went across the room to the cabinet, clasped the figure in her arms, calling him her dear brother, and when he disappeared came back to her seat, sobbing and crying bitterly. Mrs. Wylie wrung her hands in the pause of darkness and silence which followed.