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 It seemed, Ethel thought, that when there was sufficient occasion, the angels of their own accord appeared and not only succeeded in making their message heard but in striking dumb one who doubted them. For great events, the heavens opened; could it be true now that the gates of eternity might swing to and fro for the passing of souls earthward bound on trivial, mortal errands? Was she blasphemous to imagine that she might, of her own act, refer to her father in heaven the low, frightful deed which Merrill Kincheloe had performed on the Rock?

She was a little quivery as she undressed and made ready for bed. Mrs. Wain and the servants had retired earlier, and it was dark and quiet throughout the house. Ethel slipped a robe over her nightgown and turned on the hall lights and went into the room which had been her cousin Agnes's and switched on the light there. The idea had seized Ethel that cousin Agnes had returned to her room; of course she had not. Neither in the dark nor in the light was there manifestation of any sort; yet Ethel better understood Mrs. Wain's stubbornness in expecting Mrs. Oliver Cullen's return. It was difficult, when living among the articles chosen and arranged by Agnes and so expressive of her tireless vitality, to believe that she could have been completely obliterated. Cousin Oliver was different; one could accept an end to him.

Ethel remained a few minutes in Agnes's room, looking about. When a person suddenly relinquishes life, many activities related to that person automatically continue for a while; for instance, mail for the deceased is delivered. Agnes's business mail had been forwarded to the agent appointed to care for her affairs while the disposition of her holdings were being de-