"Maybe it is an uncle, though I get the influence of a father very strong, too. Has your father passed out?" The lady in the red hat nodded. "Then it _is_ your father, do you see? Yes, I get an uncle, too, who wishes to communicate, only his influence ain’t strong enough. That shows it ain’t mind reading, as the newspaper folks say, don’t it?" She smiled, as if she had made a point, and the audience appeared to be impressed. "About this journey, now: maybe you ain’t had no idea of traveling, but John says you will. I don’t think it’s liable to be very far, though. It’ll be before the last of September or the first of October and John says it’ll be successful. Do you understand what I mean?" The lady, frightened at the terrible import of this question, did not speak. "Did you send up an article?" "It’s that purse with the chain." Madam Spoll fingered it and weighed it reflectively. "I get a condition of what you might call inharmony. Seems to me like in your home something is worrying you and you ain’t satisfied, you understand, with the way things are going and sometimes you feel as if, well, you just couldn’t stand it!" Her smile, now, bathed her dupe with sympathy. The lady nodded vigorously, with tightly shut lips. "You kind of wonder if it does any good for you to go to all the trouble you do to sacrifice yourself and try to do your duty, when it ain’t what you might call appreciated. And you’re worried about money, too. Ain’t that so?" She received a ready assent. The woman’s eyes were fixed upon her. Every one in the room watched the stripping naked of a soul. "Well, John says that your father and him are helping you all they can on the spirit plane, and he thinks conditions will be more favorable and will take a turn for the better by the first of the year." A question fluttered on the woman’s lips, but before it had time to escape, Madam Spoll suddenly turned in the other direction. "While I was talking to that lady," she said, "I felt an influence leading me to that corner over there by the clock, and I get the initials ’S.F.B.’ Is there anybody of that name over there?" A flashily dressed woman, with tinted yellow hair and rhinestone ear-rings, raised her hand. "Those are my initials," she announced. Madam Spoll grew impressive. "Your name is Brindon, ain’t it?" The woman gasped out a "Yes." "Did I ever see you before?" "No," said the blonde, "not to my knowledge, you didn’t." Madam Spoll made a comprehensive gesture with both hands, calling attention to the miracle. "You sent up a sealed ballot, didn’t you?" The woman nodded. She was obviously excited, looking as if she feared her skeleton was to be dragged forth from its closet; as indeed it was. Madam Spoll took up the envelope with her delicate thumb and forefinger and displayed it to the audience.