re," was the right note to enlist Annesley's sympathy. One
might have thought that both had guessed this.

Annesley and Knight gave their dinner party in a private room adjoining
their own sitting room, and connecting also with another smaller room
which they had had fitted up for a special purpose. This purpose was to
enshrine the seeress and her crystal.

As Knight had said, she seemed to take her clairvoyant power seriously,
and insisted that she could do herself justice only in a room arranged in
a certain way. In the afternoon she directed that the furniture should be
removed with the exception of one small table and two chairs. Even the
pictures had to be taken down, and under the Countess's supervision
purple velvet draperies had to be put up, covering the walls and window.
These draperies she had brought with her, and they had curtain rings
sewn on at the upper edge, which could be attached to picture hooks or
nails.

From the same trunk came also a white silk table-cover embroidered in
gold with figures representing the signs of the zodiac. There were in
addition three purple velvet cushions: two for the chairs and one--the
Countess explained--for the table, to "make an arm rest." By her further
desire a large number of hot-house lilies in pots were sent for, and
ranged on the floor round the walls.

As for the Turkish carpet of banal reds, blues, and greens, it had to be
concealed under rugs of black fur which, luckily, the hotel possessed in
plenty. It was all very mysterious and exciting, and Annesley could
imagine the effective background these contrivances would give the
shining figure of the Countess.

When, later on, she saw her guest dressed for dinner, the girl realized
even more vividly the genius of the artist who had planned the picture.
For the Countess de Santiago wore a clinging gown made in Greek fashion,
of a supple white material shot with interwoven silver threads. She wore
her copper-red hair in a classic knot with a wreath of emerald laurel
leaves.

She would gleam like a moonlit statue in her lily-perfumed, purple
shrine, Annesley thought, and was not surprised that the lady should
achieve an instant success with the county folk who had begged for an
invitation to meet her.

The Countess de Santiago did not seem to mind answering questions
about her powers, which everyone asked across the dinner-table. She
said that since her seventh birthday she had been able, under certain
circu