They were met at the door by a grave-looking man, who asked for their credentials, and when Mr. Wylie had presented his card of invitation they were ushered into a small square room furnished only by a centre table holding a lamp, a little old-fashioned carpet lounge standing in one corner, upon which two or three persons were seated conversing in subdued tones, and a tall base-burner stove offering warmth to a small group of people gathered about it. No one spoke to the members of our party, who, while warming themselves by the fire, gazed into an empty room adjoining. This room had only the light of a single lamp fastened near the ceiling in one corner and covered and shaded by a Japanese umbrella. A string depended from this lamp to the cabinet in the opposite corner of the room. An antique, black hair-cloth tete was near the cabinet, and a carved mahogany stand stood between the only two windows in the room. The remaining space of the apartment was taken up by chairs for the invited spectators. All these separate details Mrs. Wylie observed and noted. Then she turned to the man who admitted them. “Am I permitted to examine this room?” she asked smilingly. “Certainly, madam, we court the most careful investigation in this matter. Examine thoroughly everything in this room,” and in a solemn manner he conducted them forward to the cabinet and lifted the curtains of plain black cloth which hung before it. Rolling these, he threw them over the top of the pole, that she might enter the cabinet and explore the interior. Mrs. Wylie felt of the wall, which was covered with a faded paper; tapped it to see if there were closets in the partition, pressed it to learn if it was movable, examined for cracks or evidence of secret panels, but could discover nothing. She even examined the carpet and saw that the tacks holding it to the floor were rusted as if not recently lifted or changed. She looked under and behind the tete, but could discover no possible place of concealment in the room. “Are you satisfied, my curious Pandora?” said Mr. Wylie, who had been watching her with a faint, indulgent smile upon his lips. “Yes, I find only plain, bare walls, and no visible outlet, save by the one door through which we entered.” “Good! Perhaps your scepticism will vanish after to-night.” Mrs. Wylie shook her head and peered again at the ceiling and dependent lamp. She was prepared for trickery, even if she could not fathom it. “Still unconvinced? Oh, most doubting of Thomases!” said Mr. Wylie, with a gesture of despair. “Only cautious and conservative,” whispered Mrs. Lucien. “Conservatism, what crimes of doubt and unbelief are committed in thy name!” responded the other. By this time people were beginning to file into the room, until the chairs were filled.