that girl. I have had a perfectly nerve-racking time. We must
get her out of that house before they drive her crazy."

The sincerity of her rage froze the smile on his face. "Is it as bad
as that?"

"It is as bad as you can imagine. That man Clarke has some kind of
baneful influence over her. He seems able to control her by just
waving his hand at her. And the mother is such a dear old silly--she
trusts to him completely. But go and dress and we will talk it all
over. I'm all of a-tremble yet with what I've seen. I feel as if I had
been to an insane asylum and witnessed a strangling."

He went away to his room, deeply perturbed, resentful of all this
ill-regulated human nature which could so upset his sane sister and
come between his own mind and his work. He believed in orderly and
humorous human life. Why should this teasing, tormenting girl from the
mountains come with her trances and tricks to make life furious and
antic where it had been amusing and accountable? To what would a
closer acquaintance lead? What would become of his studies if he gave
himself to her case? "To disillusionment, I sincerely hope," he said.

As he joined his sister at dinner, he began, "Well, now, sis, I'll
listen."

Kate had lost a little of her excitement under the influence of her
toilet-table, but she was still tense and flushed, as she hesitated,
her heart overflowing with sisterly admiration, so handsome, so
strong, and so very established did Morton appear at the moment. His
tone still further calmed and reassured her, and she began:

"In the first place, I like the girl very much; she is very pretty and
much more _au fait_ than you had led me to suppose. Her manner is
extremely good. The mother is dear and sweet, but deluded. Clarke and
that old man Pratt ought to be in an asylum--or the calaboose."

Morton laughed harshly. "Your succinct statement puts me in complete
possession of the case. They're all fakirs together."

"No, I didn't mean that. They're all fanatics. You should see the
spirit-paintings and the slate-writings in that house! It was like a
journey to a far country. Really, Morton, it staggers belief to think
that within twenty blocks of where we sit such a man and such a home
can exist. They _do_ exist, and it only makes me realize how small a
part of the city we know, after all. And some things I heard there
to-day make me wonder if science _isn't_ shutting its eyes--as these
people say--to a world right un