As I closed this story, Cameron said: "Garland, you tell that as if you believed in it." "I certainly do believe in my friend. It's no joke with her. She is quite certain that she is controlled by those 'on the other side,' and that to submit is to lose so much of her own individuality. You may call it hysteria, somnambulism, hypnotism, anything you like, but that certain people are moved subconsciously to impersonate the dead I am quite ready to believe. However, 'impersonation' is the least convincing (from my point of view) of all the phases of mediumship. I have paid very little attention to it in the course of my investigation. It has no value as evidence. You are still in the tattered fringes of 'spiritism,' even when you have seen all that impersonation can show you." "Well, what do you suggest as the proper method for the society?" "As I told you at beginning, I have had a great deal of experience with these elusive 'facts,' and it chances that a practised though non-professional psychic with whom I have held many baffling sittings, is in the city. I may be able to induce her to sit for us." "Oh, do, do!" cried Mrs. Cameron and Miss Brush together. "Who is she?" asked Miller. "I'll tell you more about her--next time," I said, tantalizingly. "She is very puzzling, I assure you. When and where shall we meet?" "Here," said Cameron, promptly. "I'm getting interested. Bring on your marvels." "Yes," said Miller, and his mouth shut like a steel trap. "Bring on your faker. It won't take us long to expose her little game." "Bigger scientific bigots than you have been conquered," I retorted. "All right. I'll see what I can do. We'll meet one week from to-day." "Yes," said Cameron; "come for dinner." As I was going out, Mrs. Quigg detained me. "If it had been anybody but nice little Mrs. Harris, I should say that you had made this all up between you. As it is, I guess I'll have to admit that there is something in thought transference and hypnotism. _You were her control._" "That will serve for one evening," I retorted. "I'll make you doubt the existence of matter before we finish this series of sittings." And with this we parted. II I was a little late at Cameron's dinner-party, and no sooner had I shown my face inside the door than a chorus of excited inquiry arose. "Where is the medium?" demanded Cameron. "Don't tell us you haven't got her!" exclaimed Mrs. Quigg. "I haven't her in my pocket, but she has promised to appear a little later," I replied, serenely. "Why didn't you bring her to dinner?" asked Mrs. Cameron. "Well, she seemed a little shy, and, besides, I was quite sure you would all want to discuss her, and so--" "Yes, do tell us about her. Who is she? Does she perform for a living? What kind of a person are we to expect?" volleyed Miss Brush.