ting near the fire talking to L., I was holding a small photo of Mrs. H. and describing her. "Where is she now?" asked L. "In Rome," I answered, "settled for the winter." And as I spoke, suddenly I felt conscious of what she might be doing at the time. "Do you know," I went on, "I think she must be just coming out of her room on to a high terrace such as we have here, only that there is green over it." L. did not say "nonsense," but just asked quietly: "What is she wearing?" "A black skirt," I answered, "and a mauve blouse—she is looking out over many roofs and spires—and now she has gone back into the room and a maid is closing the shutters." "Can you see her room?" asked L. "I think it is small," I said; "there is a cottage-piano and a writing-table near it. I think the large head of Hermes stands on it and something silver." And then I felt nothing more and added: "What nonsense I have been talking!" L. thinks there may be some truth in the impression, and wants me to write and ask Mrs. H. what she remembers of this afternoon. It was about 6 o'clock.
I cannot say I saw anything; somehow I seemed to feel her surroundings were just so. I have never been to Rome, nor has she told me anything of where she lives beyond the address.
Copy of extracts selected by J. G. P. from a letter addressed by Mrs. II. to Mrs. D. Postmark of envelope: "6200 Rama"
. . . . You certainly have a power to visit your friends, and to see them, and to make them feel you. Your letter is absolutely startling and mysterious. And now I can answer it detail for detail, and item for item. [The writer then avows her belief in telepathy and clairvoyance.] . . . That you have peeped at me in my small Roman house is certainly a fact. As you state the facts, every small detail is not altogether exact, but the facts as a whole are true and exact and perfect, as you shall see. .........
Let me begin by answering bit by hit all you say. I have