"I've already done so; but with the mother, Clarke, and Pratt to war against, the case seems hopeless. Besides, she believes in herself--up to a certain point. She'll never degenerate into one of those frumps who go from city to city playing to the foolish women and tack-headed men, but she will certainly be corrupted. If she marries Clarke her future will be woful. She has entered in so far I don't see how she can retreat. She is bound to keep on for his sake and her mother's sake." "Is she in love with Clarke?" "That I haven't been able to determine, but she is under his control, or she wouldn't be here." With these gloomy words in her ears Kate entered the big, cold drawing-room to wait for the coming of the master of the house. "Pratt is the one to whom you are to pay your first respects--he is master," warned Britt. "Ask to see his collections--that always pleases him. If you will permit, I will lead the way." "I am trusting you." "You may do so." Pratt came in quite briskly, a heavy-faced, white-bearded man, wearing a sack-suit and an old-fashioned turn-down collar. He greeted Britt with a casual hand-shake, looking at Kate suspiciously. "And who is this?" he asked, bluffly. "A friend of mine, a Mrs. Rice, who desires to see your wonderful collection of slates and paintings." Pratt softened a little. "I'll be very glad to show them," he said, "but not now. I'll have to ask you to excuse me just now. I am in consultation with my directors." "Certainly," said Britt, and, after Pratt went out, he added: "That means that Clarke is going to launch his thunderbolt. He's going to defy the scientific world in the most burning oration since Cicero." At this moment two ladies, in superb wraps, descended the stairway on their way to their carriages, and one of them said, "I think it's a shame--as long as we've known Simeon Pratt--to be turned away like a tramp!" "Oh, I don't blame her," said the other. "Some disappointed callers," said Britt. A moment later several other curious ones were ushered into the drawing-room. Britt kept up a low-toned comment. "All these rubber-necks are here to see the girl. You will be surprised to know how many there are with a sneaking belief in these revelations." It was a singular situation in which to find Simeon Pratt--major-domo to a crowd of idle curiosity-seekers--and when he returned, with an assumption of haste and bustle, Britt saw him in a new light--that of a poor, lonely, broken old man, weary of life, yet living on in daily hope of communion with the dead, stuffing his heart with dreams and delusions, walking mechanically round, interested only in death. He had forgotten Kate's name, but he remembered her wish to see his treasures. "Come to my library," he said; "but first let me call your attention to this remarkable painting."