Another, a lady residing in Rome, dreamed that her mother, who had been several years dead, appeared to her, gave her a lock of hair, and said, “Be especially careful of this lock of hair, my child, for it is your father’s, and the angels will call him away from you to-morrow.”

The effect of the dream on her mind was such, that, when she awoke, she experienced the greatest alarm, and caused a telegraphic notice to be instantly dispatched to England, were her father was, to inquire after his health.  No immediate reply was received; but, when it did come, it was to the effect that her father had died that morning at nine o’clock.  She afterwards learned, that, two days before his death, he had caused to be cut off, a lock of his hair, and handed it to one of his daughters, who was attending on him, telling her it was for her sister in Rome.

Well authenticated cases might be multiplied till they filled volumes; but the two we have cited, suffice to prove that in sleeping, as well as in waking hours, our minds may receive impressions of truth, or, that the spirit goes out to other scenes, and there takes cognizance of events and conditions.

Dawn slept on; her beautiful white face was still and upturned, as though gazing into the heavens.  The excitement of the day had gone, and the look of keen pleasure on her features was changed to one of intensest emotion, for she was away, her spirit beside one whose life seemed almost ebbing out of this state of existence.  She saw his pale features half hidden in the snowy pillows, the deep, soft eyes looking as though in search of one they loved; and then she heard him call her name, in tones touching and tender.  She wept, and awoke.  The sun was shining brightly through the window.  She arose, and dressed for her departure, and, to the surprise of her friend, announced her intention of leaving that morning for home.

“You are no more to be depended on than the rest of your sex, Miss Wyman,” remarked Mr. Austin, who really enjoyed having her with them.

She was in no mood to reply in the same spirit, but said quietly: 

“I have concluded not to tire you out completely this time, for I want to come again.”

“I think your going must be the result of some very hasty conclusion, Dawn.  I had no intimation of it last evening.  Really, unless you are ill, you are quite unfair to leave us so soon.”  Mrs. Austin having made this remark, glanced for the first time at Dawn’s white face.  What had come over her?  Was it Dawn who sat there so still and white?  “Are you ill?” she asked, the tremor of her voice betraying her deep solicitude for the welfare of her visitor.

“No; but anxious.  I must go to-day, however, or I shall be sick, and on your hands.”

“I’d a deal rather you should be on my hands, than weighing on my heart, as you are now,” and Mrs. Austin expressed the hope, after her husband had left, that she would confide to her the cause of her departure and sudden appearance of illness.