"Please don't make me out an honored son of the West, Mrs. Rice. I was born in New Jersey." "Were you, indeed? Oh, I'm so sorry." "I regret it myself. The West would have fitted me out with better lungs." Kate never went round when she could wade across. Therefore, no sooner were they inhaling the savor of the soup than she began her interrogation. "I am very much interested in occult affairs, Dr. Britt, and my brother tells me you were the family physician of this remarkable Miss Lambert. Tell us about her." Britt considered a moment. "It is true that Mrs. Lambert confided in me and permitted me to take a part in Viola's sittings; but I can hardly be called her physician. In the first place, the girl seems so perfectly well physically that medicine is unnecessary, and then, too, I never had her confidence. To be plain, I think she hated the sight of me." "Why was that?" He cast a curious sidewise glance. "Well, I'm not pretty to look at, and then, I reckon she thought I was investigating her." "I hope you were." "I was, but I didn't get very far." "What barred you?" "Well, to begin with, pretty nearly everything took place in the dark." "It's always so," exclaimed Kate. "I wonder why?" He shrugged his shoulders. "They all say 'light is antagonistic to the power.' You can draw your own inference." Morton spoke. "I never could understand why they didn't make a special effort to avoid that criticism." "Well, tell us what happened," cried Kate. "I'm on the edge of my chair with interest." Britt looked at Morton. "That's the curious thing, isn't it? People _are_ interested. The fact is, we all secretly hope the ghost-story may turn out to be true." Kate laughed. "You're perfectly right. We all pooh-pooh, but we'd be bitterly disappointed if all spirit footsteps turned out to be rats rolling nuts. But please hurry--wasn't _any_ of it true?" "Now, I'm going to be candid--" At this Morton leaned forward with excess of interest, and Kate exulted. "Good! Now it's coming. Be as candid as you can." Britt went on musingly. "One night as I sat between Viola and the closed piano, the spook, or whatever it was, ran up and down the keys--now on the treble, now on the bass--keeping time to my whistling." Morton interrupted. "Did you _know_ that the lid was closed?" "Yes, I laid my hand on it while the keys were drummed." "Where was Miss Lambert?" "Apparently at my left, sleeping. It didn't really matter where she was, for the lid was down. When the lights were turned on she was in deep trance--apparently. That one fact of the closed piano being played in that way remains inexplicable." "Was that all?" cried Kate, in a most disappointed way. "Oh no. There were marvels to raise your hair, but that was all that I really valued."