“She––the housekeeper––called it wicked––devilish. She took away the crystal. But after a while I found I could see with other things––even with just a glass of clear water. All you have to do is to hold your eyes very still and stare and stare. Do you understand?”

He nodded.

“I’ve heard of that.”

She dropped her voice, evidently struggling with growing excitement, colored with something of fear.

“Don’t you see how close this kept me to Dad? I’ve been living with him almost as though I were really with him. We’ve taken over again the old walks and many news ones. This seemed to go on just the same after we received word that he had 25 died––stricken with a fever in South America somewhere.”

25

She paused, taking a quick breath.

“All that is not so strange,” she ran on; “but yesterday––yesterday in the crystal I saw him––here in Boston.”

“What!”

“As clearly as I see you. He was walking down a street near the Gardens.”

“It might have been someone who resembled him.”

“No, it was Dad. He was thinner and looked strange, but I knew him as though it were only yesterday that he had gone away.”

“But if he is dead–––”

“He isn’t dead,” she answered with conviction.

“On the strength of that vision you came here to look for him?”

“Yes.”

“When you believe, you believe hard, don’t you?”

“I believe the crystal,” she answered soberly.

“Yet you didn’t find your father?”

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