We have already had one real séance here, when father was out, and wonderful results were said to be obtained, but to my naughty sceptical mind they weren’t of any interest whatever. After a number of false starts and accusations of undue control, and so forth, we got a name spelt out which with a little lenience could be translated into Cyrus Bowditch-Kemp by one of the women present, who, when she was a girl, had known a man of that name who died in Rangoon twenty years ago. This was, of course, frightfully thrilling. Then he was asked if he had a message for any member of the company and he said “Yes” and this was the message: “Wind in the daffodils”; and the woman nearly fainted when she remembered that one spring afternoon when Bowditch-Kemp was calling, there was a gale which swayed the daffodils at the edge of the lawn. That was all, but it was considered to be marvellous and to prove that Mr. Bowditch-Kemp was now the woman’s “watcher,” as they are called. I hope you are not shocked: but you said you wanted to know all that we were doing. People take this new spiritualism so differently; and of course, as I said, if it is a comfort one is only too glad, but it can be a kind of drug too, and there is no doubt that it has made things very easy for too many charlatans.—Your loving HAZEL XV EVANGELINE BARRANCE TO VERENA RABY DEAR AUNT VERENA,—I was awfully sorry to hear about your accident. The French mistress has had one too, she went to London and was knocked down by a taxi and has been in bed ever since. We were glad about her, but I am sorry about you. It will be horrid not to see you at Christmas. I am going to prepare a great surprise to cheer you while you are ill but I mustn’t tell you any more about it now as it is a terrific secret. Miss Arnott is reading _Nicholas Nickleby_ to us, it is very nice. I like John Browdie, don’t you? But I think the actors are the best, Mr. Folair and Mr. Lenville and the Infant Phenomenon. We acted _The Tempest_ the other day, I was Ariel. It isn’t fair in a charade, is it, to divide a word like “Shadow” into “shay” and “dough.” It ought to be “shad” and “owe” or “Oh!” oughtn’t it? Do answer this, because I want to confound some of the other girls. I will get the surprise ready as soon as possible, but there are others in it too and we must have time.—I am, your affectionate niece, EVANGELINE _P.S._—Of course if you are not well enough to write, you mustn’t bother about shadow. I can ask some one else. XVI HORACE MUN-BROWN TO VERENA RABY