ane was in her chair as usual, with her
companion in attendance, and when she heard Sperry's voice outside she
excused herself and was wheeled out to him, and together we heard them
go into the drawing-room. When the Robinsons arrived she and Sperry
reappeared, and we waited for her customary announcement of the
evening's program. When none came, even during the meal, I confess that
my curiosity was almost painful.

I think, looking back, that it was Sperry who turned the talk to the
supernatural, and that, to the accompaniment of considerable gibing by
the men, he told a ghost story that set the women to looking back over
their shoulders into the dark corners beyond the zone of candle-light.
All of us, I remember, except Sperry and Mrs. Dane, were skeptical as
to the supernatural, and Herbert Robinson believed that while there were
so-called sensitives who actually went into trance, the controls which
took possession of them were buried personalities of their own, released
during trance from the sub-conscious mind.

"If not," he said truculently, "if they are really spirits, why can't
they tell us what is going on, not in some vague place where they are
always happy, but here and now, in the next house? I don't ask for
prophecy, but for some evidence of their knowledge. Are the Germans
getting ready to fight England? Is Horace here the gay dog some of us
suspect?"

As I am the Horace in question, I must explain that Herbert was merely
being facetious. My life is a most orderly and decorous one. But my
wife, unfortunately, lacks a sense of humor, and I felt that the remark
might have been more fortunate.

"Physical phenomena!" scoffed the cynic. "I've seen it all--objects
moving without visible hands, unexplained currents of cold air, voice
through a trumpet--I know the whole rotten mess, and I've got a book
which tells how to do all the tricks. I'll bring it along some night."

Mrs. Dane smiled, and the discussion was dropped for a time. It was
during the coffee and cigars that Mrs. Dane made her announcement. As
Alice Robinson takes an after-dinner cigarette, a custom my wife greatly
deplores, the ladies had remained with us at the table.

"As a matter of fact, Herbert," she said, "we intend to put your
skepticism to the test tonight. Doctor Sperry has found a medium for us,
a non-professional and a patient of his, and she has kindly consented to
give us a sitting."

Herbert wheeled and looked at Sperry.

"H