The Soul Stealer. Thorne Guy

a large oval thing of brass, bright and shining.

      At that moment, also, old Lady Poole woke up with a start.

      "Dear me," she said, "I must have taken forty winks. Well, I suppose, my dear children, that I have proved my absolute inability to be de trop! What are you doing, William?"

      "It's a little experiment," Sir William said, "one of my inventions, Lady Poole. Marjorie, I want you to take off your hat."

      Marjorie did so. With careful and loving hands the great man placed the metal helmet upon her head. The girl let him do so as if she were in a dream. Then Sir William pressed a button in the wall. In a few seconds there was an answering and sudden ring of an electric bell in the study.

      "Now, Marjorie!" Sir William said, "now, all I have told you is being actually proved."

      He looked at her face, which flowered beneath the grotesque and shining cap of metal.

      "Now, Marjorie, everything you are thinking is being definitely recorded in another place."

      For a moment or two the significance of his words did not penetrate to her mind.

      Then she realized them.

      Lady Poole and the scientist saw the rapt expression fade away like a lamp that is turned out. Horror flashed out upon it, horror and fear. Her hands went up to her head; she swept off the brilliant helmet and flung it with a crash upon the ground.

      Then she swayed for a moment and sank into a deep swoon.

      She had been thinking of Mr. Guy Rathbone, barrister-at-law, and what her thoughts were, who can say?