"I have a sewing bag like that," admitted the doctor's wife, "it is on a shelf in the closet--there! Will you get it for me, Miss Marshall? We shall soon see about this. Now then!" She searched through the bag, but found nothing. "I told you so. My husband is quite right in his ideas about mediums. I really wish you had not disturbed me," she said impatiently. But the medium answered pleasantly: "I have only repeated what my control tells me. I am sorry if I have annoyed you. I advise you to search the house carefully." "I have done that already," said Mrs. Owen. Whereupon Seraphine, still unruffled, took her departure, with these last words at the door to the office assistant: "Please tell Dr. Owen that I beg him most earnestly to have the house searched for his wife's jewels. Otherwise one of the servants will find them." And Dr. Owen, in spite of his scientific prejudices, in spite of his wife's positive declaration that the jewels had been stolen during her visit, and that the house had been thoroughly searched, acted on this suggestion and had the house searched again. _And this time the missing jewel box was found, with the necklace, rings and brooches all intact, in a chintz sewing bag covered with pink roses!_ It seems that Mrs. Owen had two chintz bags, one for ordinary sewing, one for darning, and in the latter bag, hanging on a nail behind the bureau, where the doctor's wife had absent-mindedly hidden it, the missing jewel box was discovered. "This beats the devil!" exclaimed the doctor when he heard the good news. And an hour later he sent the following telegram to Seraphine: "Jewels found, thanks to you. We are very grateful. I have reconsidered the matter and accept your invitation for tonight. Will call at eight o'clock." CHAPTER VIII WHITE SHAPES (_From Penelope's Diary_) _New York January 31, 1919._ An extraordinary thing happened on Monday night at Seraphine's apartment. I must write down the details before they fade from my memory. Seraphine telephoned Monday morning that there was to be a meeting of her occult class in the evening and she wanted me to come as Dr. Owen had promised to be there. She regarded this as a great opportunity to help me. Darling Seraphine! Of course I could not refuse, although I abhor spiritualism. I love Seraphine for what she is, and in spite of her queer beliefs. When we were gathered together and after introductions to her class (there were six or seven devout believers), Seraphine explained that it was difficult to obtain psychic manifestations in the presence of active disbelief, and she begged us to maintain an attitude of friendly open-mindedness. I am afraid I did not do this all the time.