ght
mention that at the age of nine she had christened her favourite doll
Eliza P. Moseley, in memory of a great precursor whom they all
reverenced), and now the inspiration, if he might call it so, seemed
just to flow in that channel. The voice that spoke from her lips seemed
to want to take that form. It didn't seem as if it _could_ take any
other. She let it come out just as it would--she didn't pretend to have
any control. They could judge for themselves whether the whole thing was
not quite unique. That was why he was willing to talk about his own
child that way, before a gathering of ladies and gentlemen; it was
because they took no credit--they felt it was a power outside. If Verena
felt she was going to be stimulated that evening, he was pretty sure
they would be interested. Only he should have to request a few moments'
silence, while she listened for the voice.

Several of the ladies declared that they should be delighted--they hoped
that Miss Tarrant was in good trim; whereupon they were corrected by
others, who reminded them that it wasn't _her_--she had nothing to do
with it--so her trim didn't matter; and a gentleman added that he
guessed there were many present who had conversed with Eliza P. Moseley.
Meanwhile Verena, more and more withdrawn into herself, but perfectly
undisturbed by the public discussion of her mystic faculty, turned yet
again, very prettily, to Mrs. Farrinder, and asked her if she wouldn't
strike out--just to give her courage. By this time Mrs. Farrinder was in
a condition of overhanging gloom; she greeted the charming suppliant
with the frown of Juno. She disapproved completely of Doctor Tarrant's
little speech, and she had less and less disposition to be associated
with a miracle-monger. Abraham Greenstreet was very well, but Abraham
Greenstreet was in his grave; and Eliza P. Moseley, after all, had been
very tepid. Basil Ransom wondered whether it were effrontery or
innocence that enabled Miss Tarrant to meet with such complacency the
aloofness of the elder lady. At this moment he heard Olive Chancellor,
at his elbow, with the tremor of excitement in her tone, suddenly
exclaim: "Please begin, please begin! A voice, a human voice, is what we
want."

"I'll speak after you, and if you're a humbug, I'll expose you!" Mrs.
Farrinder said. She was more majestic than facetious.

"I'm sure we are all solid, as Doctor Tarrant says. I suppose we want to
be quiet," Miss Birdseye remarked.