d: "But, Dr. Serviss, my father's advice has
always been good; to question it now would be to question my faith.
His wish is my law."

Serviss shrugged his shoulders a little impatiently. "My dear lady, we
have no common ground there. The wishes of the dead have no weight
with me when set against the welfare of the living. The question which
I beg you to consider is whether you wish your daughter to continue in
this mental torture? Do you want her name blazoned to the world as a
public medium? You cannot afford to add disgrace to her private
torment."

The mother held her ground. "Her 'guides' say she will be taken care
of, and as for the disgrace, that is all imaginary. It is an honor--"

Viola again burst forth: "They are always talking to me about the
honor of being a medium, about the distinction of it, and when I ask
what distinction the world gave to the Fox sisters or Home or Madame
Cerillio, they answer that the world has changed since then. But it
has not changed enough to make my work respected. Mr. Clarke says it
ought to be; but saying so does not make it so. Every time I read of a
medium exposed I turn cold and hot, for I know people consider all
mediums alike. I don't want to go about all my life like an outcast. I
don't want to be happy after I'm dead; I want to be happy now. I don't
want to be different from other girls; I want to be like them. If they
publish me, I will be a medium forever. I will be in constant terror
of attack, and that will drive me insane--they _must_ set me free!
Dr. Serviss," she pleaded, as if she were the victim of some murderous
design, "you are wise and strong. There must be some way for you to
help me."

All of Serviss's well-ordered sympathetic phrases failed him as he
listened to the storm of her plea and felt the flame of her passionate
protest. All doubt of her sincerity, her own honesty, vanished, being
utterly burned away by the light in her lovely eyes. Her mental
bondage was real, her desire to escape contamination indubitable. He
met her gaze with tender gravity. "I believe in you," he said, as if
committing himself to a most momentous enterprise, "and I will help
you."

His voice, so manly, so strong, so tender, robbed her of the power to
speak. She seized his extended hand in both of hers and pressed it
hard, the tears in her eyes veiling her soul from the passion that
filled his glance.

As she faced him thus, leaning to him trustfully, so vivid, so
magne