natural intelligence is all right, you've
plenty of it. But it needs education,--bending in the right direction,
you know. And I'm going to educate you. You're the most promising
subject I've ever seen. I'll make a priestess of you,--a shining
light,--a prophetess----"

Patty giggled. "If I'm a priestess I may as well be a prophetess, I
suppose. When do these lessons begin?"

"Now. They have begun. You are unconsciously absorbing this
atmosphere. You are involuntarily becoming more and more of our
cult,--of our inspirations. You are evolving,--you don't realise it,
but you are evolving----"

"I shall be revolving, if I don't get some fresh air! Why must you
have these incense things smoking, not to mention some of the guests
smoking also, and, incidentally, that Moorish lamp is smoking badly! I
_am_ absorbing your atmosphere, and it is choking me!"

Patty was in earnest, though she spoke lightly. The unpleasant air
filled her lungs, and she wanted pure oxygen.

"Oh, all right," and Blaney laughed, indulgently. "You can't expect to
achieve all at once. Come, we'll step out on the veranda for a whiff
of outdoors, and then come back for the program."

"There's to be a program?"

"Oh, yes. Most wonderful work, by genius itself. Now, please, Miss
Fairfield, don't resist the influence."

They were out on the tiny veranda that graced the Blaney's dwelling.
The stars shone down through the pure winter air, and Patty felt as if
she had been rescued from a malarial swamp. But Blaney was impressive.
His deep, soft voice persuaded her against her will that she was
pettish and crude to rebel at the unwholesome atmosphere inside. "You
don't understand," he said gently. "Give us a fair trial. That's all
I ask. I know your inner nature will respond, if you give it its
freedom. Ah, freedom! That's all we aim for,--all we desire."

Through the window, Patty heard the sound of weird strains of music.

"Come on," she cried, "I do want to see this thing through. If that's
the program beginning, take me in. I want to hear it."

They returned to the Studio, and Blaney found two seats which commanded
a view of the platform. The seats were uncomfortable, being small
wooden stools, and the air was still clouded with smoke of various
sorts. But, determinedly, Patty prepared to listen to the revelations
that awaited her. She had long had a curiosity to know what "Bohemia"
meant, and now she expected to fin