w house and
all,--nobody knows how the flues are yet, or whether we can heat a spare
room. She hasn't had a home, though, since Cousin Dorothy died. But I
was thinking about you, you see."

"O, she can't hurt me. She won't want the library, I suppose; nor my
slippers, and the small bootjack. Let her come."

My wife sighed a small sigh of relief out from the depths of her
hospitable heart, and the little matter was settled and dismissed as
lightly as are most little matters out of which grow the great ones.

I had just begun to dream that night that Gertrude Fellows, in the shape
of a large wilted pear, had walked in and sat down on a dessert plate,
when Allis gave me a little pinch and woke me.

"My dear, Gertrude has _one_ peculiarity. I never thought of it till
this minute."

"Confound Gertrude's peculiarities! I want to go to sleep. Well, let's
have it."

"Why, you see, she took up with some Spiritualistic notions after her
mother's death; thought she held communications with her, and all that,
Aunt Solomon says."

"Stuff and nonsense!"

"Of course. But, Fred, dear, I'm inclined to think she _must_ have made
her sewing-table walk into the front entry; and Aunt Solomon says the
spirits rapped out the whole of Cousin Dorothy's history on the
mantel-piece, behind those blue china vases,--you must have noticed them
at the funeral,--and not a human hand within six feet."

"Alison Hotchkiss!" I said, waking thoroughly, and sitting up in bed to
emphasize the opinion, "when I hear a spirit rap on _my_ mantel-piece,
and see _my_ tables walk about the front entry, I'll believe that,--not
before!"

"O, I know it! I'm not a Spiritualist, I'm sure, and nothing would tempt
me to be. But still that sort of reasoning has a flaw in it, hasn't it,
dear? The King of Siam, you know--"

I had heard of the King of Siam before, and I politely informed my wife
that I did not care to hear of him again. Spiritualism was a system of
refined jugglery. Just another phase of the same thing which brings the
doves out of Mr. Hermann's empty hat. It might be entertaining if it had
not become such an abominable imposition. There would always be nervous
women and hypochondriac men enough for its dupes. I thanked Heaven that
I was neither, and went to sleep.

Our new house was light and dry; the flues worked well, and the spare
chamber heated admirably. The baby exchanged the champagne-basket for
his dainty pink-curtained crib; Tip bega