"Is this a seance?" inquired Kathleen, watching the group from the doorway. Another of Miss Kiametia's receiving party had taken her place at the tea-table. "Come and lend Captain Miller your moral support," called Miss Kiametia, while his character is being divulged. "No, you are to sit still," as Miller made a motion to rise. "Kathleen can stand behind us and prompt me if my deductions go astray; she knows you better than the rest of us." Kathleen advanced with lagging steps into the room. She had turned singularly pale, and Miss Kiametia, watching her closely, wondered if she was taking the game seriously. She stopped just back of Miller's chair and rested her hand lightly on Miss Kiametia's shoulder as the latter pulled the electric lamp nearer so that its rays fell full upon Miller's palm. "Has the size of the hand anything to do with the subject?" asked Miller, as the spinster picked up a magnifying glass. "Don't make suggestions to the oracle," laughed Foster. "Go ahead, Kiametia." "Your life line is good," pronounced the spinster, "but as it divides toward the end you will probably die in a country different from that of your birth." "Any particular time scheduled for the event?" questioned Miller, skeptically, but Miss Kiametia ignored the remark. "This branch from the head line to the heart"--indicating it with a slender paper-cutter--"denotes some great affection which makes you blind to reason and danger." She paused irresolutely. "Pshaw! I'm reading from the left hand, let me see the other...." "Isn't the one nearest the heart the surest guide?" inquired Miller. "It is not," with decision, and Miller, smiling whimsically, extended his hand toward them. "The right hand of fellowship," he remarked, placing his palm directly under the light. "My theory is correct." Miss Kiametia shot a triumphant look at Mrs. Whitney. "There are always more lines in the right palm than in the left; and see, here is a wider space between the lines of the head and life--contact with the world, Captain Miller, has taught you self-reliance, promptness of action, and readiness of thought. Hello, what is that on your index finger--a half-moon?" "Yes." Miller smiled covertly; the spinster's seriousness amused him immensely. "Isn't that according to Hoyle?" "No, nor according to Cheiro, either," tartly. "Hold your palm steady so that I can see more clearly. It's a scar, isn't it?" "Yes." Mrs. Whitney and Senator Foster were closely following Miss Kiametia's words, and neither saw the perplexed frown which wrinkled Kathleen's forehead as she stared down at Miller's right hand. She was distinctly puzzled. "The strength of your own individuality will carry you over many obstacles," finished Miss Kiametia, giving Miller's hand a friendly tap with the paper-cutter. "Read mine next," and Foster held out his right hand.