" She added, "What Queen can that be?"
We gathered round her and all looked at the writing; and there I
read distinctly out of a lot of hieroglyphics:
"The Queen is dying."
If the three of us had combined to try to write this and had poked
about all night, we could not have done it.
I have had many interesting personal experiences of untraceable
communication and telepathy and I think that people who set
themselves against all this side of life are excessively stupid;
but I do not connect them with religion any more than with Marconi
and I shall always look upon it as a misfortune that people can be
found sufficiently material to be consoled by the rubbish they
listen to in the dark at expensive seances.
At one time, under the influence of Mr. Percy Wyndham, Frederic
Myers and Edmund Gurney (the last-named a dear friend with whom I
corresponded for some months before he committed suicide), Laura
and I went through a period of "spooks." There was no more
delightful companion than Mr. Percy Wyndham; he adored us and,
though himself a firm believer in the spirit world, he did not
resent it if others disagreed with him. We attended every kind of
seance and took the matter up quite seriously.
Then, as now, everything was conducted in the dark. The famous
medium of that day was a Russian Jewess, Madame Blavatsky by name.
We were asked to meet her at tea, in the dining-room of a private
house in Brook Street, a non-professional affair, merely a little
gathering to hear her views upon God.
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