Humorous stories; London (England) -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
Very gradually I felt the table--which was fairly solid and
heavy--begin to rise. It rose about two feet in the air and
remained suspended. I pressed on it with my hands and could not
force it down. After a moment or two it fell to the ground with a
bang, and I removed my hands.
“That will do,” I said faintly, and Mrs. Dentry struck a match and
re-lit the lamp. Then she and I sat on the sofa and talked. She
said that I was wonderful and must certainly come and help them. If
she might mention terms, she knew that her husband would pay a guinea
for each sitting; at any rate I must come while the Wentworth Holding
business was on. She urged that I owed it to myself to develop my
marvellous powers. As she was talking I heard the click of a key in
the front door and Mr. Dentry entered, his hat and gloves still in
his hands.
“Well?” he said eagerly. “Did you get anything?”
“Anything?” said his wife. “Everything. Miss Castel is a really
wonderful medium.”
We talked on for some time. I would promise them nothing definitely.
But I gave them my address, and said that I would probably come once
again at any rate. They were in despair that I would not give them
any further assurance, but I was obstinate. I regarded the whole
thing with a curious mixture of curiosity and repulsion.
* * * * * *
Next morning Mrs. Dentry called to see me. Wentworth Holding was
sending a man of science that night to examine into the whole thing;
it was essential that I should be there.
“If I go,” I said, “I do not want my name given.”
“Certainly,” said Mrs. Dentry. “You will be addressed as Una.”
“Then,” I said, “Mr. Holding’s tame investigator would be made to
believe that I was the same medium that foretold the fall of the
stock. I don’t like that.”
“True,” said Mrs. Dentry. “I hadn’t thought of that. It doesn’t
really much matter. But you’d better be called Una all the same;
there’s no cheating about it, because you’re ever so much better than
the original Una.”
“I don’t think so. This morning, for instance, I tried the automatic
writing and got nothing.”
“That’s because you don’t know how to set about it. My husband will
show you. I myself failed scores of times at first. But as for the
name, that must be just as you wish. You may be quite nameless if
you like.”
“I should prefer it.”
“And please don’t make any more experiments without us. If the
conditions are not right you will get no results, and in any case you
will be tiring yourself. We want you to-night to be as fresh and
full of vitality as possible. If you could get an hour’s sleep this
afternoon it would be all the better.”
But I could not sleep that afternoon although I made the attempt.
There were things in my interview with Mrs. Dentry that I did not
quite like. I began to wish that I had never gone into the business
at all.
* * * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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