The nine young women made a pretty picture as they gathered about the table, the delicate hues of their evening frocks lending additional beauty to the scene. From out each young face shone the joy of reunion. Whatever the future might ordain for them in the way of trials, for one week at least they had laid strong hold on happiness. Having nobly postponed dinner for purely artistic reasons, they were now decidedly hungry. They, therefore, devoted themselves whole-heartedly to the substantial meal, comprising several delectable courses which were deftly served to them by two maids who had long been fixtures in the Briggs' household, and whose smiling faces indicated their pleasure in ministering to Elfreda's guests. It was a signally merry repast, eaten to an accompaniment of gay badinage and rippling laughter. Their college days now but a memory, it partook of the nature of a rollicking spread, rather than of that of a formal dinner party, and they reveled in thus being able to call forth once more a fleeting repetition of their former jollifications. "You are a truly hospitable lawyeress, J. Elfreda," lauded Kathleen West, as, dessert removed, they lingered at the table over their coffee, served in quaint Japanese cups that were the pride of J. Elfreda's heart. "I can see that you haven't lost the will to garner things Japanese. These cups are exquisite." "I am inordinately proud of them," returned Elfreda, looking gratified. "Laura Atkins' father presented me with a real Japanese tea-set that he bought especially for me the last time he was in Japan. They are old enough to have a history, too. I couldn't resist parading them to-night in honor of the Sempers." "Tell us about them, Elfreda," begged Patience Eliot. "I love to hear----" Patience never finished stating what she loved to hear. A sharp little exclamation of "Look!" from Arline Thayer set all eyes gazing in the direction of her indexing finger. Out of the darkness and into the swaying gleam of the lanterns a black-robed figure, bent double with the weight of years, hobbled its weird way toward the diners. From a voluminous sable sleeve, a long thin hand projected itself, the wiry fingers clutching a tall staff. The shifting glow of the lanterns played fantastically upon the apparition's veiled head as, step by step, it drew slowly nearer. An audible sigh of amazement, mingled with dread of the unknown, swept the little company. Added to the unexpected materialization of the seeress was the surprise of her costume. Fancy had pictured her to them as the usual gypsy, garbed in a rainbow of lively colors. This sinister vision, the cast of whose features a long black veil entirely concealed, seemed to be a creation of the very darkness itself. If pure uncanniness indicated occult power, then this veiled prophetess of destiny must surely be an adept in her art. CHAPTER VIII UNVEILING THE PROPHETESS