“Whatbeautifulhorses，“exclaimedJuliette，herhazeleyessparkling。
　　“Oh!thattenthCommandment，whocankeepit？Andwhyshouldsomepeoplehavefinehorsesandothersnotevenapony？/Mamère/，whywereyounotabletokeepthatcarriageofwhichyouhavespokentomesooften？“
　　Madamebitherlip，andwithawhispered“holdyourtongue，“plungedintoconversationaboutMissOgilvy。ThenGodfreyenteredthecarriageandwaswhirledawayinstyle，lookingliketheprinceinafairybook，asJulietteremarked，whilethePasteurtriedtoexplaintoherhowmuchhappiershewaswithoutthetemptationofsuchearthlyvanities。
　　MissOgilvy’shousewasabeautifuldwellingofitssort，standingingardensofitsownthatrandowntothelake，andcommandingfineviewsofallthegloriousscenerywhichsurroundsLucerne。Theroomswerelargeandlofty，withparquetfloors，andinsomeofthemwerereallygoodpicturesthattheirownerhadinherited，alsocollectionsofbeautifuloldFrenchfurniture。Inshort，itwasastatelyandrefinedabode，suchasissometimestobefoundabroadinthepossessionofAmericansorEnglishpeopleofwealth，whofortheirhealth’ssakeorotherreasons，maketheirhomesupontheContinent。
　　Onhearingthecarriagearrive，MissOgilvy，whowasdressedinasimple，butcharminggreygownand，asGodfreynoticedatonce，woreroundhernecktheoldGnostictalismanwhichhehadgivenher，camefromasaloontomeethiminthelarge，squarehall。
　　“I/am/gladtoseeyou，Godfrey，“shesaidinhersoft，cultivatedvoice。
　　“SoamI，MissOgilvy，“heanswered，withheartiness，“Imeantoseeyou。But，“headded，studyingher，“youdonotlookverywell。“
　　Shesmiledratherpathetically，andsaidinaquickvoice：
　　“No，Itookacoldonthatjourney。YouseeIamratheraninvalid，whichiswhyIlivehere——whileIdolive——whattheycall/poitrinaire/。“
　　Godfreyshookhishead，thewordwasbeyondhim。
　　“/Anglicé/consumptive，“sheexplained。“TherearelotsofusinSwitzerland，youknow，andonthewhole，weareamerryset。Itischaracteristicofourcomplaint。Butnevermindaboutme。Therearetwoorthreepeoplehere。Idaresayyouwillthinkthemodd，buttheyarecleverintheirway，andyououghttohavesomethingincommon。
　　Comein。“
　　Hefollowedherintothebeautifulcoolsaloon，withitslarge，doubleFrenchwindowsdesignedtokeepoutthebitterwindsofwinter，butopenednowuponthebrilliantgarden。Neverbeforehadhebeeninsolovelyaroom，thatisofamodernhouse，anditimpressedhimwithsensationsthatatthemomenthedidnottrytoanalyse。Allheknewwasthattheyweremingledwithsomespiritualquality，suchasonceortwicehehadfeltinancientchurches，somethingwhichsuggestedboththePastandtheFuture，andabroodinginfluencethathecouldnotdefine。Yettheplacewasalllightandcharm，gaywithflowersandlandscapepictures，inshort，lackinganysombrenote。
　　Gatheredatitsfarendwherethebowwindowoverlookedthesparklinglake，werethreeorfourpeople，allelderly。Instantlyoneoftheserivetedhisattention。Shewasstout，havinghergreyhairdrawnbackfromamassiveforehead，beneathwhichshonepiercingblackeyes。Herratherungainlyfigurewasclothedinwhathethoughtanuglygreendress，andsheworeaneckletofemeraldsinanold-fashionedsetting，whichhealsothoughtuglybutstriking。Fromthemomentthatheenteredthedoorwayatthefarendofthatlongsaloon，hefeltthoseblackeyesfixeduponhim，andwaspainfullyawareoftheirowner’spresence，somuchso，thatinawhisper，heaskedhernameofMissOgilvy。
　　“Oh!“sheanswered，“thatisMadameRiennes，thenotedmesmeristandmedium。“
　　“Indeed，“saidGodfreyinavaguevoice，forhedidnotquiteunderstandwhatwasmeantbythisdescription。
　　Alsotherewasathin，elderlyAmericangentlemantowhomGodfreywasintroduced，namedColonelJosiahSmith，andabig，blondDane，whotalkedEnglishwithaGermanaccent，calledProfessorPetersen。AllofthesestudiedGodfreywiththemostunusualinterestas，overwhelmedwithshyness，hewasledbyMissOgilvytomaketheiracquaintance。Hefeltthattheirdemeanourportendedheknewnotwhat，moreatanyratethanhopeofderivingpleasurefromhissociety；infact，thattheyexpectedtogetsomethingoutofhim。SuddenlyherecollectedapicturethatoncehehadseeninapiousworkwhichhewasgiventoreadonSundays。ItrepresentedamissionarybeingledbythehandbyasmilingwomanintothepresenceofsomesavagesinaSouthSeaisland，whowereabouttocookandeathim。
　　Inthepicturealargepotwasalreadyboilingoverafireinthebackground。InstinctivelyGodfreylookedforthepot，butsawnone，exceptoneoftheflowerswhichstoodonalittletableinarecess，androundithalfadozenchairs，oneofthemlarge，witharms。Hadhebutknownit，thatchairwasthepot。
　　Nosoonerhadhemadehissomewhatawkwardbowthanluncheonwasannounced，andtheyallwentintoanotherlargeandbeautifulroom，wheretheywereservedwithaperfectmeal。Theconversationattablewasgeneral，andinEnglish，butpresentlyitdriftedintoadebatewhichGodfreydidnotunderstand，ontheincreaseofspiritualityamongthe“initiated“oftheearth。
　　ColonelJosiahSmith，whoappearedtoassociatewithremarkablepersonswhomhecalled“Masters，“whodweltintheremoteplacesoftheworld，allegedthatsuchincreasewasgreat，whichProfessorPetersen，whodweltmuchamongGermanintellectuals，denied。Itappearedthatthese“intellectuals“werebusyinturningtheirbacksoneveryformofspirituality。
　　“Ah!“saidMissOgilvy，withasigh，“theyseekthecompanyoftheirkindred’Elementals，’althoughtheydonotknowit，andsoonthoseElementalswillhavethemasteryofthemandbreakthemtopieces，asthelionsdidthemalignersofDaniel。“
　　InafteryearsGodfreyalwaysrememberedthisasaveryremarkableprophecy，butatthetime，notknowingwhatanElementalmightbe，heonlymarvelled。
　　AtlengthMadameRiennes，who，itseemed，washalfFrenchandhalfRussian，intervenedinaslow，heavyvoice：
　　“Whatdoesitmatter，friendsofmysoul？“sheasked。ThenhavingpausedtodrinkoffafullglassofsparklingMoselle，shewenton：
　　“Soonweshallbewherethespirituality，orotherwise，ofthislittleworldmattersnothingtous。Whowillbethefirsttolearnthetruths，Iwonder？“andshestaredinturnatthefacesofeveryoneofthem，aprocesswhichseemedtocausegeneralalarm，bearing，asitdid，astrongresemblancetothesmelling-outofsavagewitch-doctors。
　　Indeed，theyallbegantotalkofthisorthatathazard，butshewasnottobeputoffbysuchinterruptions。HavinginvestigatedGodfreytillhefeltcolddowntheback，MadameturnedhersearchlighteyesuponMissOgilvy，whoshrankbeneaththem。Thenofasuddensheexclaimedwithakindofconvulsiveshudder：
　　“ThePowerpossessesandguidesme。Ittellsmethat/you/willbethefirst，SisterHelen。IseeyouamongtheimmortalLilieswiththeWineofLifeflowingthroughyourveins。“
　　OnreceiptofthisinformationtheWineofLifeseemedtoceasetoflowinpoorMissOgilvy’sface。Atanyrate，shewentdeadlypaleandrestedherhanduponGodfrey’sshoulderasifshewereabouttofaint。
　　Recoveringalittle，shemurmuredtoherself：
　　“Ithoughtit!Well，whatdoesitmatterthoughthegulfisgreatandterrible？“
　　Thenwithaneffortsheroseandsuggestedthattheyshouldreturntothedrawing-room。
　　Theydidso，andwereservedwithTurkishcoffeeandcigarettes，whichMadameRiennessmokedoneaftertheotherveryrapidly。PresentlyMissOgilvyrangthebell，andwhenthebutlerappearedtoremovethecups，whisperedsomethinginFrench，atwhichhebowedanddeparted。
　　Godfreythoughtheheardhimlockthedoorbehindhim，butwasnotsure。
　　“Letussitroundthetableandtalk，“saidMadameRiennes。
　　Thereonthewholepartymovedintotherecesswherewastheflower-potthathasbeenmentioned，whichMissOgilvytookaway。
　　Theyseatedthemselvesroundthelittletableuponwhichithadstood。
　　Godfrey，lingeringbehind，found，whetherbydesignoraccident，thattheonlyplaceleftforhimwasthearm-chairwhichhehesitatedtooccupy。
　　“Beseated，youngMonsieur，“saidtheformidableMadameinbell-liketones，whereonhecollapsedintothechair。“SisterHelen，“shewenton，“drawthecurtain，itismoreprivateso；yes，andtheblindthattheremaybenounholyglare。“
　　MissOgilvy，whoseemedtobeentirelyunderMadame’sthumb，obeyed。
　　Nowtoallintentsandpurposestheywereinatiny，shadowedroomcutofffromthemainapartment。
　　“TakethattalismanfromyourneckandgiveittoyoungMonsieurKnight，“commandedMadame。
　　“ButIgaveittoher，anddonotwantitback，“venturedGodfrey，whowasgrowingalarmed。
　　“DowhatIsay，“shesaidsternly，andhefoundhimselfholdingtherelic。
　　“Now，youngMonsieur，lookmeintheeyesalittleandlisten。I
　　requestofyouthatholdingthatblack，engravedstoneinyourhand，youwillbesogoodastothrowyoursoul，doyouunderstand，yoursoul，back，back，/back/andtelluswhereitcomefrom，whohaveit，whatpartitplayintheirlife，andeverythingaboutit。“
　　“HowamItoknow？“askedGodfrey，withindignation。
　　Thensuddenlyeverythingbeforehimfaded，andhesawhimselfstandinginadesertbyalumpofblackrock，atwhichabrownmancladonlyinawaistclothandakindofpeakedstrawhat，wasstrikingwithaninstrumentthatseemedtobehalfchiselandhalfhammer，fashionedapparentlyfrombronze，orperhapsofgreenish-colouredflint。
　　Presentlythebrownman，whohadasquintinoneeyeandahurttoethatwasboundroundwithsomething，pickedupapieceoftheblackrockthathehadknockedoff，andsurveyeditwithevidentsatisfaction。Thenthescenevanished。
　　Godfreytolditwithinteresttotheaudiencewhowereapparentlyalsointerested。
　　“Thefindingofthestone，“saidMadame。“Continue，youngMonsieur。“
　　AnothervisionrosebeforeGodfrey’smind。Hebeheldalowroomhavingakindofverandah，roofedwithreeds，andbeyonditalittlecourtyardenclosedbyawallofgrey-colouredmudbricks，outofsomeofwhichstuckpiecesofstraw。Thiscourtyardopenedontoanarrowstreetwheremanyoddly-clothedpeoplewalkedupanddown，someofwhomworepeakedcaps。Alittleman，oldandgrey，satwiththefragmentofblackrockonalowtablebeforehim，whichGodfreyknewtobethesamestonethathehadalreadyseen。Byhimlaygravingtools，andhewasengagedinpolishingthestone，nowcoveredwithfiguresandwriting，byhelpofastick，apieceofroughclothandoil。Ayoungmanwithacurlybeardwalkedintothelittlecourtyard，andtohimtheoldfellowdeliveredtheengravedstonewithobeisances，receivingpaymentinsomecuriouscurrency。