ortable.

And then there burst from Bubbles' lips words uttered in a broken,
lamenting voice--a young, uncultivated woman's voice: "I did forgive
you--for sure. But oh, how I've longed to come through to you all these
years! You was cruel, cruel to me, Ted--and I was kind to you."

Then followed a very odd, untoward thing. Mr. Burnaby jumped up from his
chair, and he bolted--literally bolted--from the room, slamming the door
behind him.

Bubbles gave a long, long sigh, and then she said feebly: "I'm tired. I
can't go on any longer now." She spoke in her natural voice, but all the
lilt and confidence were as if drained out of it.

Someone--perhaps it was Donnington, who had got up--began re-lighting
the candles.

No one spoke for what seemed a long time. And then, to the infinite
relief of Varick and Miss Farrow, the door opened, and the butler
appeared, followed by the footmen. They were bringing in various kinds
of drinks.

The host poured out and mixed a rather stiff brandy and soda, and took
it over to Miss Burnaby. "Do drink this," he said solicitously. "And
forgive me, Miss Burnaby--I'm afraid I was wrong to allow this--this--"
he did not know quite what to say, so he ended lamely, "this seance to
take place."

Then he poured out another stiff brandy and plain water and drank it
himself.

Donnington turned to Miss Farrow. "I have never known Bubbles so--so
wonderful!" he exclaimed in a low voice. "There must be something in the
atmosphere of this place which made it easier than usual."

Blanche Farrow looked at him searchingly. "Surely you don't believe in
it?" she whispered incredulously. "Of course it was a mixture of
thought-reading and Bubbles' usual quickness!"

"I don't agree with you--I wish I could." The young man looked very pale
in the now bright light. "I thoroughly disapprove of it all, Miss
Farrow. I wish to God I could stop Bubbles going in for it!"

"I agree with you that it's very bad for her."

The girl had gone away, right out of the circle. She was sitting on a
chair in the far corner of the room; her head, bent over a table, rested
on her arms.

"She'll be worn out--good for nothing to-morrow," went on Donnington
crossly. "She'll have an awful night too. I might have thought she'd be
up to something of the sort! One of the servants told her to-night that
this house is haunted. She'll be trying all sorts of experiments if we
can't manage to stop her. It's the only thing Bubbles r