sudden, Bubbles gave a queer little leap into the
air. "I've got it!" she exclaimed. "Let's hold a seance!"

"A seance?" repeated Blanche Farrow in a dubious tone. "I don't think
Miss Burnaby would enjoy that at all."

"Oh, but she would!"--Bubbles spoke confidently. "Didn't you hear her at
dinner? She was telling Sir Lyon about some friend of hers who's become
tremendously keen about that sort of thing. To tell you the truth,
Blanche" (these two had never been on very formal terms together, and in
a way Bubbles was much fonder of her aunt than her aunt was of her)--"To
tell you the truth, Blanche," she repeated, "ever since I arrived here
I've told myself that it would be rather amusing to try something of the
kind. It's a strange old house; there's a funny kind of atmosphere about
it; I felt it the moment I arrived."

The other looked at her sharply. "I've always avoided that sort of
thing, and I don't see it doing you much good, Bubbles! You know how
your father feels about it?"

Miss Farrow did not often interfere in other people's affairs, but she
had suddenly remembered certain phrases in her brother-in-law's letter.

"Daddy has been put up to making a fuss by a goody-goody widow who's
making up to him just now." Bubbles spoke lightly, but she looked vexed.

Blanche Farrow felt sorry she had said anything. Bubbles was behaving
very nicely just now. It was the greatest comfort to have her here. So
she said, smiling, "Oh, well, I shan't regret your trying something of
the kind if you can galvanize these dull folk into life."

"I'll do more than that," said Bubbles easily. "I'll give them creeps!
But, Blanche? I want you to back me up if I say I'm tired, or don't want
to go on with it."

Blanche Farrow felt surprised. "I don't quite understand," she
exclaimed. "Aren't we going to do table-turning?"

"No," said the girl deliberately. "We're going to have a seance--a
sitting. And I'm going to be the medium."

"Oh, Bubbles! Is that wise?" She looked uncomfortably into the girl's
now eager, flushed face. "D'you think you know enough about these people
to be a success at it this very first evening?"

Bubbles' gift of thought reading would of course come in; also the girl
was a clever actress; still, that surely wouldn't take her very far with
a set of people of whom she knew _nothing_.

"The only one I'm afraid of," said Bubbles thoughtfully, "is Mr.
Burnaby. He's such a proper old thing! He might really obj