girl answered, her face sullen and weary
again. "He and all of you have no regard for me. You pretend to have,
but you are all willing to sacrifice me to prove a theory. I don't
care whether spiritualism is true or not, I want to have one single
day when I can be sure of being myself, free to come and go like other
girls. I feel as if I had a band of iron around my neck. I shall go
mad with it some day."

Kate, usually ready, blunt, and fearless, sat in silence, perfectly
convinced by the fury of the girl's protest, stunned by a belief in
the complete truth of her indignant accusations. These devotees, these
fanatics, were immolating a beautiful young life on the altar of
their own selfish faith. The virgin was already bound to the rock, and
the priest, torch in hand, was about to apply the flame.

"What can _I_ do? I want to help you--"

An imperious knock at the door interrupted her, and for an instant
Kate thought this another spirit message, but Mrs. Lambert called out,
"Is that you, Anthony?"

A deep voice answered, "Yes, it is I. I have something to tell you."
Clarke opened the door and stepped within, a handsome, dark,
theatrical figure.

Mrs. Lambert rose to meet him. "What is it, Anthony?"

"We've decided on the date. I am to speak on the second," he answered
exultantly.

Viola started up. "You shall not use my name. I forbid it!" Her hands
were clinched, her eyes blazed with the fury of her determination, and
she struck her heel upon the floor. "I tell you I forbid it!"

Clarke pushed Mrs. Lambert aside and strode to the centre of the room;
his face was hard, his tone contemptuous. "You forbid it! What is your
puny will against the invisible ones? You forbid it?" His voice
changed as he asked, "Who has influenced you to _this_ childish
revolt?" He turned to Kate. "Have you, madam?"

Kate Rice was not one to be outfaced. "If I have, I shall be most
happy," she answered. "Who are you that demand so much of this poor
girl?"

"I am the one chosen by her 'control' to convey their message to the
world."

Kate recoiled a little. "Oh, you are? Well, I don't care if you are.
You have no right to use her name in this way without her consent."

"Her consent! What she desires or what I desire is of small account.
We are both in the grasp of the invisible forces, making for the
happiness of the race. She can't refuse to go on. It is her duty.
There are millions of other women to sing, to dance, to amuse
m