life a hell for his sister. She could go
nowhere, and it was with the greatest difficulty that the mother kept
her dreadful secret."

Serviss, with darkened brow, writhed uneasily in his chair. "I have
heard of these things before now, but this is a new view of a medium's
development. I don't understand the mother's attitude."

"Randall notes that the mother was resigned and content as soon as she
was convinced of the return of her dead father and husband and son,
and at present will not think of giving up her fancied communion,
especially as the 'guides' constantly assure her that 'they' will
protect the girl. But observe the senility of this note in Randall's
diary: 'Martha comes regularly to me now, and I am happy in a renewed
sense of her companionship. Indeed, I fancy at times that I can see
her. She showed me her hands last night; I could see them plainly
against the window. I had quite a controversy with Lambert after the
sitting. "It's all bad business," he said. "I am scared when I think
of what's going to become of Viola. Here she is growing to be a big
girl, and a pretty girl, and she ought to be out in company--she ought
to be singing and dancing like other girls. She ought to marry like
other girls and be happy, and she can't be so long as these things are
going on. It isn't right."'"

"No more was it," said Serviss. "It was villainous."

"Randall was too far gone to even agree. 'But it hasn't hurt her,' I
replied; 'and, indeed, this marvellous fact resigns me to the
practice. I can't endure now the thought of being cut off from Martha
and Paul, our precious boy. It would be like shutting the door in
their faces. Besides, they are in control; we could not stop their
use of the girl if we were to try. As for me, it is now my life. I am
old. My friends, my dear ones, are all on that side. I have only a few
more days to live, and then--' Right here the old man stopped. He
lived a month or two after that, but he made no more notes, and when I
came on the scene Clarke was in control of the situation. I had no
acquaintance with the family and no personal knowledge of the case
till Lambert called one day and told me of the sittings going on in
the little cottage. He had a notion that I might be able to cure the
girl."

Serviss had listened to Britt with growing pain and indignation--pain
at thought of Viola's undoing, indignation that the mother and her
physician could so complacently join in the dark proce