The tone was so cold that Mrs. Singleton was visibly disconcerted. "Of course I don't know the spirit," she said. "But are both your grandmothers living?" "She nodded her head, you know," put in another. To this Miss Morison did not even reply; but the awkwardness of the situation was relieved by Mrs. Rangely, who broke into conventional phrases of admiration and wonder. "Yes, Frances," Mrs. Staggchase observed dryly, "as you say, it couldn't be believed if one hadn't seen it." Her manner was unheeded in the flood of praise and congratulation with which Mrs. Singleton was being overwhelmed. "It is what I've longed for all my life," one lady declared, wiping her eyes. "I never could have confidence in professional mediums, but this is so perfectly satisfactory. Oh, I _do_ feel that I owe you so much, Mrs. Singleton!" "Yes, this we have seen with our own eyes," another added. "It is impossible for the most skeptical to doubt this." To this and more Maurice listened in amazement, until he rather thought aloud than consciously spoke:-- "But it all depends upon the unsupported testimony of the medium." Mrs. Rangely drew herself up with much dignity. "That," she said, "I will be responsible for." "It isn't unsupported," chimed in one of the ladies. "Here are the roses." At the sound of Maurice's voice Mrs. Singleton had turned toward him, and he saw that she recognized him. She looked around with a glance half terrified, half appealing. "It is so kind in you to believe in me," she murmured pathetically. "I don't ask you to. I only tell you what I see, and"-- Maurice rose abruptly and strode forward. "Alice," he exclaimed, "what do you mean by this humbug? Don't you see that they take it seriously? Tell them it's a joke." Again Mrs. Singleton looked around as if to see whether she had support. "It is manly of you to attack me," she answered, evidently satisfied with the result of her survey. "I cannot defend myself." "Do you mean to insist?" he demanded, with growing anger. "If the roses do not justify what I said," responded she, sinking back as if exhausted, "it may be that I saw only imaginary shapes." A sharp murmur ran around the room. The believers were evidently rallying indignantly to the support of their sibyl, and cast upon Wynne glances of bitter reproach. He looked at Mrs. Staggchase, but it was impossible to judge from her expression whether she approved or disapproved of what he had done. He was suddenly abashed, and stood speechless before the rising tide of outraged remonstrance. Then unexpectedly came from behind him the clear voice of Miss Morison. "It is unfortunate that the roses should have been given to me," she said, "for by an odd chance I saw them bought a couple of hours ago on Tremont Street." There was an instant of hushed amazement, and then the medium fled from the parlor in hysterics. IV