The vision was gone, but music yet came to her ear in strains such as angels might breathe.

She doubted, listened, raised herself in the bed, and again listened.

It was music, and not an illusion of her imagination.

After a solemn steady harmony, it paused; then rose again, in mournful sweetness, and then died, in a cadence, that seemed to bear away the listening soul to heaven.

She instantly remembered the music of the preceding night, with the strange circumstances, related by La Voisin, and the affecting conversation it had led to, concerning the state of departed spirits.