A strange Providence3 was the origin of it all. Mrs Quantock, a week before, had the toothache, and being no longer in the fold of Christian4 Science, found that it was no good at all to tell herself that it was a false claim. False claim it might be, but it was so plausible5 at once that it quite deceived her, and she went up to London to have its falsity demonstrated by a dentist. Since the collapse6 of Yoga and the flight of the curry-cook, she had embarked7 on no mystical adventure, and she starved for some new fad9. Then when her first visit to the dentist was over (the tooth required three treatments) and she went to a vegetarian10 restaurant to see if there was anything enlightening to be got out of that, she was delighted to find herself sitting at a very small table with a very communicative lady who ate cabbages in perfectly11 incredible quantities. She had a round pale face like the moon behind the clouds, enormous eyebrows12 that almost met over her nose, and a strange low voice, of husky tone, and a pronunciation quite as foreign as Signor Cortese’s. She wore some very curious rings with large engraved13 amethysts14 and turquoises15 in them, and since in the first moments of their conversation she had volunteered the information that vegetarianism16 was the only possible diet for any who were cultivating their psychical17 powers, Mrs Quantock asked her if these weird19 finger-ornaments had any mystical signification. They had; one was Gnostic, one was Rosicrucian, and the other was Cabalistic. . . . It is easy to picture Mrs Quantock’s delight; adventure had met her with smiling mouth and mysterious eyes. In the course of an animated20 conversation of half an hour, the lady explained that if Mrs Quantock was, like her, a searcher after psychical truths, and cared to come to her flat at half-past four that afternoon, she would try to help her. She added with some little diffidence that the fee for a seance was a guinea, and, as she left, took a card out of a case, encrusted with glowing rubies21, and gave it her. That was the Princess Popoffski.
Now here was a curious thing. For the last few evenings at Riseholme, Mrs Quantock had been experimenting with a table, and found that it creaked and tilted22 and tapped in the most encouraging way when she and Robert laid their hands on it. Then something — whatever it was that moved the table — had indicated by raps that her name was Daisy and his Robert, as well as giving them other information, which could not so easily be verified. Robert had grown quite excited about it, and was vexed23 that the seances were interrupted by his wife’s expedition to London. But now how providential that was. She had walked straight from the dentist into the arms of Princess Popoffski.
It was barely half-past four when Mrs Quantock arrived at the Princess’s flat, in a pleasant quiet side street off Charing24 Cross Road. A small dapper little gentleman received her, who explained that he was the Princess’s secretary, and conducted her through several small rooms into the presence of the Sybil. These rooms, so Mrs Quantock thrillingly noticed, were dimly lit by oil lamps that stood in front of shrines25 containing images of the great spiritual guides from Moses down to Madame Blavatski, a smell of incense26 hung about, there were vases of flowers on the tables, and strange caskets set with winking27 stones. In the last of these rooms the Princess was seated, and for the moment Mrs Quantock hardly recognised her, for she wore a blue robe, which left her massive arms bare, and up them writhed28 serpent-shaped bracelets29 of many coils. She fixed30 her eyes on Mrs Quantock, as if she had never seen her before, and made no sign of recognition.
“The Princess has been meditating,” said the secretary in a whisper. “She’ll come to herself presently.”
For a moment meditation31 unpleasantly reminded Mrs Quantock of the Guru, but nothing could have been less like that ill-starred curry-cook than this majestic32 creature. Eventually she gave a great sigh and came out of her meditation.
“Ah, it is my friend,” she said. “Do you know that you have a purple halo?”
This was very gratifying, especially when it was explained that only the most elect had purple halos, and soon other elect souls assembled for the seance. In the centre of the table was placed a musical box and a violin, and hardly had the circle been made, and the lights turned down, when the most extraordinary things began to happen. A perfect storm of rappings issued from the table, which began to rock violently, and presently there came peals33 of laughter in a high voice, and those who had been here before said that it was Pocky. He was a dear naughty boy, so Mrs Quantock’s neighbour explained to her, so full of fun, and when on earth had been a Hungarian violinist. Still invisible, Pocky wished them all much laughter and joy, and then suddenly said “‘Ullo, ‘ullo, ’ere’s a new friend. I like her,” and Mrs Quantock’s neighbour, with a touch of envy in her voice, told her that Pocky clearly meant her. Then Pocky said that they had been having heavenly music on the other side that day, and that if the new friend would say “Please” he would play them some of it.
So Mrs Quantock, trembling with emotion, said “Please, Pocky,” and instantly he began to play on the violin the spirit tune34 which he had just been playing on the other side. After that, the violin clattered35 back onto the middle of the table again, and Pocky, blowing showers of kisses to them all, went away amid peals of happy laughter.
Silence fell, and then a deep bass36 voice said, “I am coming, Amadeo!” and out of the middle of the table appeared a faint luminousness37. It grew upwards39 and began to take form. Swathes of white muslin shaped themselves in the darkness, and there appeared a white face, in among the topmost folds of the muslin, with a Roman nose and a melancholy40 expression. He was not gay like Pocky, but he was intensely impressive, and spoke41 some lines in Italian, when asked to repeat a piece of Dante. Mrs Quantock knew they were Italian, because she recognised “notte” and “uno” and “caro,” familiar words on Lucia’s lips.
The seance came to an end, and Mrs Quantock having placed a guinea with the utmost alacrity42 in a sort of offertory plate which the Princess’s secretary negligently43 but prominently put down on a table in one of the other rooms, waited to arrange for another seance. But most unfortunately the Princess was leaving town next day on a much needed holiday, for she had been giving three seances a day for the last two months and required rest.
“Yes, we’re off tomorrow, the Princess and I,” said he, “for a week at the Royal Hotel at Brinton. Pleasant bracing44 air, always sets her up. But after that she’ll be back in town. Do you know that part of the country?”
Daisy could hardly believe her ears.
“Brinton?” she said. “I live close to Brinton.”
Her whole scheme flashed completely upon her, even as Athene sprang full-grown from the brain of Zeus.
“Do you think that she might be induced to spend a few days with me at Riseholme?” she said. “My husband and I are so much interested in psychical things. You would be our guest, too, I hope. If she rested for a few days at Brinton first? If she came on to me afterwards? And then if she was thoroughly45 rested, perhaps she would give us a seance or two. I don’t know —”
Mrs Quantock felt a great diffidence in speaking of guineas in the same sentence with Princesses, and had to make another start.
“If she were thoroughly rested,” she said, “and if a little circle perhaps of four, at the usual price would be worth her while. Just after dinner, you know, and nothing else to do all day but rest. There are pretty drives and beautiful air. All very quiet, and I think I may say more comfortable than the hotel. It would be such a pleasure.”
Mrs Quantock heard the clinking of bracelets from the room where the Princess was still reposing46, and there she stood in the door, looking unspeakably majestic, but very gracious. So Mrs Quantock put her proposition before her, the secretary coming to the rescue on the subject of the usual fees, and when two days afterwards Mrs Quantock returned to Riseholme, it was to get ready the spare room and Robert’s room next to it for these thrilling visitors, whose first seance Georgie and Piggy had attended, on the evening of the Italian debacle. . . .
The Quantocks had taken a high and magnificent line about the “usual fees” for the seances, an expensive line, but then Roumanian oils had been extremely prosperous lately. No mention whatever of these fees was made to their guests, no offertory-plate was put in a prominent position in the hall, there was no fumbling47 for change or the discreet48 pressure of coins into the secretary’s hand; the entire cost was borne by Roumanian oils. The Princess and Mrs Quantock, apparently49, were old friends; they spoke to each other at dinner as “dear friend,” and the Princess declared in the most gratifying way that they had been most intimate in a previous incarnation, without any allusion50 to the fact that in this incarnation they had met for the first time last week at a vegetarian restaurant. She was kind enough, it was left to be understood, to give a little seance after dinner at the house of her “dear friend,” and so, publicly, the question of money never came up.
Now the Princess was to stay three nights, and therefore, as soon as Mrs Quantock had made sure of that, she proceeded to fill up each of the seances without asking Lucia to any of them. It was not that she had not fully51 forgiven her for her odious52 grabbing of the Guru, for she had done that on the night of the Spanish quartette; it was rather that she meant to make sure that there would by no possibility be anything to forgive concerning her conduct with regard to the Princess. Lucia could not grab her and so call Daisy’s powers of forgiveness into play again, if she never came near her, and Daisy meant to take proper precautions that she should not come near her. Accordingly Georgie and Piggy were asked to the first seance (if it did not go very well, it would not particularly matter with them), Olga and Mr Shuttleworth were bidden to the second, and Lady Ambermere with Georgie again to the third. This — quite apart from the immense interest of psychic18 phenomena53 — was deadly work, for it would be bitter indeed to Lucia to know, as she most undoubtedly54 would, that Lady Ambermere, who had cut her so firmly, was dining twice and coming to a seance. Daisy, it must again be repeated, had quite forgiven Lucia about the Guru, but Lucia must take the consequences of what she had done.
It was after the first seance that the frenzy55 for spiritualism seized Riseholme. The Princess with great good-nature, gave some further exhibitions of her psychical power in addition to the seances, and even as Georgie the next afternoon was receiving Lucia’s cruel verdict about Debussy, the Sybil was looking at the hands of Colonel Boucher and Mrs Weston, and unerringly probing into their past, and lifting the corner of the veil, giving them both glimpses into the future. She knew that the two were engaged for that she had learned from Mrs Quantock in her morning’s drive, and did not attempt to conceal56 the fact, but how could it be accounted for that looking impressively from the one to the other, she said that a woman no longer young but tall, and with fair hair had crossed their lives and had been connected with one, of them for years past? It was impossible to describe Elizabeth more accurately57 than that, and Mrs Weston in high excitement confessed that her maid who had been with her for fifteen years entirely58 corresponded with what the Princess had seen in her hand. After that it took only a moment’s further scrutiny59 for the Princess to discover that Elizabeth was going to be happy too. Then she found that there was a man connected with Elizabeth, and Colonel Boucher’s hand, to which she transferred her gaze, trembled with delightful60 anticipation61. She seemed to see a man there; she was not quite sure, but was there a man who perhaps had been known to him for a long time? There was. And then by degrees the affairs of Elizabeth and Atkinson were unerringly unravelled62. It was little wonder that the Colonel pushed Mrs Weston’s bath-chair with record speed to “Ye signe of ye daffodil,” and by the greatest good luck obtained a copy of the “Palmist’s Manual.”
At another of these informal seances attended by Goosie and Mrs Antrobus, even stranger things had happened, for the Princess’s hands, as they held a little preliminary conversation, began to tremble and twitch63 even more strongly than Colonel Boucher’s, and Mrs Quantock hastily supplied her with a pencil and a quantity of sheets of foolscap paper, for this trembling and twitching64 implied that Reschia, an ancient Egyptian priestess, was longing65 to use the Princess’s hand for automatic writing. After a few wild scrawls66 and plunges67 with the pencil, the Princess, though she still continued to talk to them, covered sheet after sheet in large flowing handwriting. This, when it was finished and the Princess sunk back in her chair, proved to be the most wonderful spiritual discourse68, describing the happiness and harmony which pervaded69 the whole universe, and was only temporarily obscured by the mists of materiality. These mists were wholly withdrawn70 from the vision of those who had passed over. They lived in the midst of song and flowers and light and love. . . . Towards the end there was a less intelligible71 passage about fire from the clouds. It was rendered completely intelligible the very next day when there was a thunderstorm, surely an unusual occurrence in November. If that had not happened Mrs Quantock’s interpretation72 of it, as referring to Zeppelins, would have been found equally satisfactory. It was no wonder after that, that Mrs Antrobus, Piggy and Goosie spent long evenings with pencils and paper, for the Princess said that everybody had the gift of automatic writing, if they would only take pains and patience to develop it. Everybody had his own particular guide, and it was the very next day that Piggy obtained a script clearly signed Annabel Nicostratus and Jamifleg followed very soon after for her mother and sister, and so there was no jealousy73.
But the crown and apex74 of these manifestations75 was undoubtedly the three regular seances which took place to the three select circles after dinner. Musical boxes resounded76, violins gave forth77 ravishing airs, the sitters were touched by unseen fingers when everybody’s hands were touching78 all around the table, and from the middle of it materialisations swathed in muslin were built up. Pocky came, visible to the eye, and played spirit music. Amadeo, melancholy and impressive, recited Dante, and Cardinal79 Newman, not visible to the eye but audible to the ear, joined in the singing “Lead, Kindly80 Light,” which the secretary requested them to encourage him with, and blessed them profusely81 at the conclusion. Lady Ambermere was so much impressed, and so nervous of driving home alone, that she insisted on Georgie’s going back to the Hall with her, and consigning82 her person to Pug and Miss Lyall, and for the three days of the Princess’s visit, there was practically no subject discussed at the parliaments on the Green, except the latest manifestations. Olga went to town for a crystal, and Georgie for a planchette, and Riseholme temporarily became a spiritualistic republic, with the Princess as priestess and Mrs Quantock as President.
Lucia, all this time, was almost insane with pique84 and jealousy, for she sat in vain waiting for an invitation to come to a seance, and would, long before the three days were over, have welcomed with enthusiasm a place at one of the inferior and informal exhibitions. Since she could not procure85 the Princess for dinner, she asked Daisy to bring her to lunch or tea or at any hour day or night which was convenient. She made Peppino hang about opposite Daisy’s house, with orders to drop his stick, or let his hat blow off, if he saw even the secretary coming out of the gate, so as possibly to enter into conversation with him, while she positively86 forced herself one morning into Daisy’s hall, and cried “Margarita” in silvery tones. On this occasion Margarita came out of the drawing-room with a most determined87 expression on her face, and shut the door carefully behind her.
“Dearest Lucia,” she said, “how nice to see you! What is it?”
“I just popped in for a chat,” said she. “I haven’t set eyes on you since the evening of the Spanish quartette.”
“No! So long ago as that is it? Well, you must come in again sometime very soon, won’t you? The day after tomorrow I shall be much less busy. Promise to look in then.”
“You have a visitor with you, have you not?” asked Lucia desperately88.
“Yes! Two, indeed, dear friends of mine. But I am afraid you would not like them. I know your opinion about anything connected with spiritualism, and — isn’t it silly of us? — we’ve been dabbling89 in that.”
“Oh, but how interesting,” said Lucia. “I— I am always ready to learn, and alter my opinions if I am wrong.”
Mrs Quantock did not move from in front of the drawing-room door.
“Yes?” she said. “Then we will have a great talk about it, when you come to see me the day after tomorrow. But I know I shall find you hard to convince.”
She kissed the tips of her fingers in a manner so hopelessly final that there was nothing to do but go away.
Then with poor generalship, Lucia altered her tactics, and went up to the Village Green where Piggy was telling Georgie about the script signed Annabel. This was repeated again for Lucia’s benefit.
“Wasn’t it too lovely?” said Piggy. “So Annabel’s my guide, and she writes a hand quite unlike mine.”
Lucia gave a little scream, and put her fingers to her ears.
“Gracious me!” she said. “What has come over Riseholme? Wherever I go I hear nothing but talk of seances, and spirits, and automatic writing. Such a pack of nonsense, my dear Piggy. I wonder at a sensible girl like you.”
Mrs Weston, propelled by the Colonel, whirled up in her bath-chair.
“‘The Palmist’s Manual’ is too wonderful,” she said, “and Jacob and I sat up over it till I don’t know what hour. There’s a break in his line of life, just at the right place, when he was so ill in Egypt, which is most remarkable90, and when Tommy Luton brought round my bath-chair this morning — I had it at the garden-door, because the gravel’s just laid at my front-door, and the wheels sink so far into it —‘Tommy,’ I said, ‘let me look at your hand a moment,’ and there on his line of fate, was the little cross that means bereavement91. It came just right didn’t it, Jacob? when he was thirteen, for he’s fourteen this year, and Mrs Luton died just a year ago. Of course I didn’t tell Tommy that, for I only told him to wash his hands, but it was most curious. And has your planchette come yet, Mr Georgie? I shall be most anxious to know what it writes, so if you’ve got an evening free any night soon just come round for a bit of dinner, and we’ll make an evening of it, with table turning and planchette and palmistry. Now tell me all about the seance the first night. I wish I could have been present at a real seance, but of course Mrs Quantock can’t find room for everybody, and I’m sure it was most kind of her to let the Colonel and me come in yesterday afternoon. We were thrilled with it, and who knows but that the Princess didn’t write the Palmist’s Manual for on the title page it says it’s by P. and that might be Popoffski as easily as not, or perhaps Princess.”
This allusion to there not being room for everybody was agony to Lucia. She laughed in her most silvery manner.
“Or, perhaps Peppino,” she said. “I must ask mio caro if he wrote it. Or does it stand for Pillson? Georgino, are you the author of the Palmist’s Manual? Ecco! I believe it was you.”
This was not quite wise, for no one detested92 irony93 more than Mrs Weston, or was sharper to detect it. Lucia should never have been ironical94 just then, nor indeed have dropped into Italian.
“No” she said. “I’m sure it was neither Il Signer Peppino nor Il Signer Pillson who wrote it. I believe it was the Principessa. So, ecco! And did we not have a delicious evening at Miss Bracely’s the other night? Such lovely singing, and so interesting to learn that Signor Cortese made it all up. And those lovely words, for though I didn’t understand much of them, they sounded so exquisite95. And fancy Miss Bracely talking Italian so beautifully when we none of us knew she talked it at all.”
Mrs Weston’s amiable96 face was crimson97 with suppressed emotion, of which these few words were only the most insignificant98 leakage99, and a very awkward pause succeeded which was luckily broken by everybody beginning to talk again very fast and brightly. Then Mrs Weston’s chair scudded100 away; Piggy skipped away to the stocks where Goosie was sitting with a large sheet of foolscap, in case her hand twitched101 for automatic script, and Lucia turned to Georgie, who alone was left.
“Poor Daisy!” she said. “I dropped in just now, and really I found her very odd and strange. What with her crazes for Christian Science, and Uric Acid and Gurus and Mediums, one wonders if she is quite sane83. So sad! I should be dreadfully sorry if she had some mental collapse; that sort of thing is always so painful. But I know of a first-rate place for rest-cures; I think it would be wise if I just casually102 dropped the name of it to Mr Robert, in case. And this last craze seems so terribly infectious. Fancy Mrs Weston dabbling in palmistry! It is too comical, but I hope I did not hurt her feelings by suggesting that Peppino or you wrote the Manual, It is dangerous to make little jokes to poor Mrs Weston.”
Georgie quite agreed with that, but did not think it necessary to say in what sense he agreed with it. Every day now Lucia was pouring floods of light on a quite new side of her character, which had been undeveloped, like the print from some photographic plate lying in the dark so long as she was undisputed mistress of Riseholme. But, so it struck him now, since the advent8 of Olga, she had taken up a critical ironical standpoint, which previously103 she had reserved for Londoners. At every turn she had to criticise104 and condemn105 where once she would only have praised. So few months ago, there had been that marvellous Hightum garden party, when Olga had sung long after Lady Ambermere had gone away. That was her garden party; the splendour and success of it had been hers, and no one had been allowed to forget that until Olga came back again. But the moment that happened, and Olga began to sing on her own account (which after all, so Georgie thought, she had a perfect right to do), the whole aspect of affairs was changed. She romped106, and Riseholme did not like romps107; she sang in church, and that was theatrical108; she gave a party with the Spanish quartette, and Brinton was publicly credited with the performance. Then had come Mrs Quantock and her Princess, and, lo, it would be kind to remember the name of an establishment for rest-cures, in the hope of saving poor Daisy’s sanity109. Again Colonel Boucher and Mrs Weston were intending to get married, and consulted a Palmist’s Manual, so they too helped to develop as with acid the print that had lain so long in the dark.
“Poor thing!” said Lucia, “it is dreadful to have no sense of humour, and I’m sure I hope that Colonel Boucher will thoroughly understand that she has none before he speaks the fatal words. But then he has none either, and I have often noticed that two people without any sense of humour find each other most witty110 and amusing. A sense of humour, I expect, is not a very common gift; Miss Bracely has none at all, for I do not call romping111 humour. As for poor Daisy, what can rival her solemnity in sitting night after night round a table with someone who may or may not be a Russian princess — Russia of course is a very large place, and one does not know how many princesses there may be there — and thrilling over a pot of luminous38 paint and a false nose and calling it Amadeo the friend of Dante.”
This was too much for Georgie.
“But you asked Mrs Quantock and the Princess to dine with you,” he said, “and hoped there would be a seance afterwards. You wouldn’t have done that, if you thought it was only a false nose and a pot of luminous paint.”
“I may have been impulsive112,” said Lucia speaking very rapidly. “I daresay I’m impulsive, and if my impulses lie in the direction of extending such poor hospitality as I can offer to my friends, and their friends, I am not ashamed of them. Far otherwise. But when I see and observe the awful effect of this so-called spiritualism on people whom I should have thought sensible and well-balanced — I do not include poor dear Daisy among them — then I am only thankful that my impulses did not happen to lead me into countenancing113 such piffle, as your sister so truly observed about POOR Daisy’s Guru.”
They had come opposite Georgie’s house, and suddenly his drawing-room window was thrown up. Olga’s head looked out.
“Don’t have a fit, Georgie, to find me here” she said. “Good morning, Mrs Lucas; you were behind the mulberry, and I didn’t see you. But something’s happened to my kitchen range, and I can’t have lunch at home. Do give me some. I’ve brought my crystal, and we’ll gaze and gaze. I can see nothing at present except my own nose and the window. Are you psychical, Mrs Lucas?”
This was the last straw; all Lucia’s grievances114 had been flocking together like swallows for their flight, and to crown all came this open annexation115 of Georgie. There was Olga, sitting in his window, all unasked, and demanding lunch, with her silly ridiculous crystal in her hand, wondering if Lucia was psychical.
Her silvery laugh was a little shrill116. It started a full tone above its normal pitch.
“No, dear Miss Bracely,” she said. “I am afraid I am much too commonplace and matter-of-fact to care about such things. It is a great loss I know, and deprives me of the pleasant society of Russian princesses. But we are all made differently; that is very lucky. I must get home, Georgie.”
It certainly seemed very lucky that everyone was not precisely117 like Lucia at that moment, or there would have been quarrelling.
She walked quickly off, and Georgie entered his house. Lucia had really been remarkably118 rude, and, if allusion was made to it, he was ready to confess that she seemed a little worried. Friendship would allow that, and candour demanded it. But no allusion of any sort was made. There was a certain flush on Olga’s face, and she explained that she had been sitting over the fire.
The Princess’s visit came to an end next day, and all the world knew that she was going back to London by the 11.00 a.m. express. Lady Ambermere was quite aware of it, and drove in with Pug and Miss Lyall, meaning to give her a lift to the station, leaving Mrs Quantock, if she wanted to see her guest off, to follow with the Princess’s luggage in the fly which, no doubt, had been ordered. But Daisy had no intention of permitting this sort of thing, and drove calmly away with her dear friend in Georgie’s motor, leaving the baffled Lady Ambermere to follow or not as she liked. She did like, though not much, and found herself on the platform among a perfect crowd of Riseholmites who had strolled down to the station on this lovely morning to see if parcels had come. Lady Ambermere took very little notice of them, but managed that Pug should give his paw to the Princess as she took her seat, and waved her hand to Mrs Quantock’s dear friend, as the train slid out of the station.
“The late lord had some Russian relations,” she said majestically119. “How did you get to know her?”
“I met her at Potsdam” was on the tip of Mrs Quantock’s tongue, but she was afraid that Lady Ambermere might not understand, and ask her when she had been to Potsdam. It was grievous work making jokes for Lady Ambermere.
The train sped on to London, and the Princess opened the envelope which her hostess had discreetly120 put in her hand, and found that that was all right. Her hostess had also provided her with an admirable lunch, which her secretary took out of a Gladstone bag. When that was finished, she wanted her cigarettes, and as she looked for these, and even after she had found them, she continued to search for something else. There was the musical box there, and some curious pieces of elastic121, and the violin was in its case, and there was a white mask. But she still continued to search. . . .
About the same time as she gave up the search, Mrs Quantock wandered upstairs to the Princess’s room. A less highly vitalised nature than hers would have been in a stupor122 of content, but she was more in a frenzy of content than in a stupor. How fine that frenzy was may be judged from the fact that perhaps the smallest ingredient in it was her utter defeat of Lucia, She cared comparatively little for that glorious achievement, and she was not sure that when the Princess came back again, as she had arranged to do on her next holiday, she would not ask Lucia to come to a seance. Indeed she had little but pity for the vanquished123, so great were the spoils. Never had Riseholme risen to such a pitch of enthusiasm, and with good cause had it done so now, for of all the wonderful and exciting things that had ever happened there, these seances were the most delirious124. And better even than the excitement of Riseholme was the cause of its excitement, for spiritualism and the truth of inexplicable125 psychic phenomena had flashed upon them all. Tableaux126, romps, Yoga, the Moonlight Sonata127, Shakespeare, Christian Science, Olga herself, Uric Acid, Elizabethan furniture, the engagement of Colonel Boucher and Mrs Weston, all these tremendous topics had paled like fire in the sunlight before the revelation that had now dawned. By practice and patience, by zealous128 concentration on crystals and palms, by the waiting for automatic script to develop, you attained129 to the highest mysteries, and could evoke130 Cardinal Newman, or Pocky. . . .
There was the bed in which the Sybil had slept; there was the fresh vase of flowers, difficult to procure in November, but still obtainable, which she loved to have standing131 near her. There was the chest of drawers in which she had put her clothes, and Mrs Quantock pulled them open one by one, finding fresh emanations and vibrations132 everywhere. The lowest one stuck a little, and she had to use force to it. . . .
The smile was struck from her face, as it flew open. Inside it were billows and billows of the finest possible muslin. Fold after fold of it she drew out, and with it there came a pair of false eyebrows. She recognised them at once as being Amadeo’s. The muslin belonged to Pocky as well.
She needed but a moment’s concentrated thought, and in swift succession rejected two courses of action that suggested themselves. The first was to use the muslin herself; it would make summer garments for years. The chief reason against that was that she was a little old for muslin. The second course was to send the whole paraphernalia133 back to her dear friend, with or without a comment. But that would be tantamount to a direct accusation134 of fraud. Never any more, if she did that, could she dispense135 her dear friend to Riseholme like an expensive drug. She would not so utterly136 burn her boats. There remained only one other judicious137 course of action, and she got to work.
It had been a cold morning, clear and frosty, and she had caused a good fire to be lit in the Princess’s bedroom, for her to dress by. It still prospered138 in the grate, and Mrs Quantock, having shut the door and locked it, put on to it the false eyebrows, which, as they turned to ash, flew up the chimney. Then she fed it with muslin; yards and yards of muslin she poured on to it; never had there been so much muslin nor that so exquisitely139 fine. It went to her heart to burn it, but there was no time for minor140 considerations; every atom of that evidence must be purged141 by fire. The Princess would certainly not write and say that she had left some eyebrows and a hundred yards of muslin behind her, for, knowing what she did, it would be to her interests as well as Mrs Quantock’s that those properties should vanish, as if they never had been.
Up the chimney in sheets of flame went this delightful fabric142; sometimes it roared there, as if it had set the chimney on fire, and she had to pause, shielding her scorched143 face, until the hollow rumbling144 had died down. But at last the holocaust145 was over, and she unlocked the door again. No one knew but she, and no one should ever know. The Guru had turned out to be a curry-cook, but no intruding146 Hermy had been here this time. As long as crystals fascinated and automatic writing flourished, the secret of the muslin and the eyebrows should repose147 in one bosom148 alone. Riseholme had been electrified149 by spiritualism, and, even now, the seances had been cheap at the price, and in spite of this discovery, she felt by no means sure that she would not ask the Princess to come again and minister to their spiritual needs.
She had hardly got downstairs when Robert came in from the Green, where he had been recounting the experiences of the last seance.
“Looked as if there was a chimney on fire,” he said. “I wish it was the kitchen chimney. Then perhaps the beef mightn’t be so raw as it was yesterday.”
Thus is comedy intertwined with tragedy!
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pertaining
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germinating
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| n.& adj.发芽（的）v.（使）发芽( germinate的现在分词 ) | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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fad
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| n.时尚；一时流行的狂热；一时的爱好 | |
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vegetarian
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| n.素食者；adj.素食的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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14
amethysts
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| n.紫蓝色宝石( amethyst的名词复数 )；紫晶；紫水晶；紫色 | |
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15
turquoises
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| n.绿松石( turquoise的名词复数 )；青绿色 | |
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16
vegetarianism
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| n.素食，素食主义 | |
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psychical
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| adj.有关特异功能现象的；有关特异功能官能的；灵魂的；心灵的 | |
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18
psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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19
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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20
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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21
rubies
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| 红宝石( ruby的名词复数 )； 红宝石色，深红色 | |
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22
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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23
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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24
charing
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| n.炭化v.把…烧成炭，把…烧焦( char的现在分词 )；烧成炭，烧焦；做杂役女佣 | |
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25
shrines
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| 圣地，圣坛，神圣场所( shrine的名词复数 ) | |
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incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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27
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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28
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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30
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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31
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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peals
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| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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34
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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35
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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36
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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37
luminousness
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| 透光率 | |
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38
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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39
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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40
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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41
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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42
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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43
negligently
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44
bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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45
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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46
reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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47
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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48
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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49
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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50
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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51
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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52
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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53
phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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54
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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55
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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56
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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57
accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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58
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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59
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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60
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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61
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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62
unravelled
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| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的过去式和过去分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
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63
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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64
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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65
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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66
scrawls
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| 潦草的笔迹( scrawl的名词复数 ) | |
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67
plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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68
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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69
pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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71
intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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72
interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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73
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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74
apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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75
manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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76
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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77
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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78
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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79
cardinal
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| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
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80
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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81
profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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82
consigning
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的现在分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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83
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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84
pique
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| v.伤害…的自尊心，使生气 n.不满，生气 | |
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85
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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86
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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87
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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88
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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89
dabbling
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| v.涉猎( dabble的现在分词 )；涉足；浅尝；少量投资 | |
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90
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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91
bereavement
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| n.亲人丧亡，丧失亲人，丧亲之痛 | |
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92
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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93
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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94
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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95
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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96
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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97
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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98
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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99
leakage
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| n.漏，泄漏；泄漏物；漏出量 | |
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100
scudded
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| v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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102
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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103
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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104
criticise
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| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
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105
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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106
romped
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| v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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107
romps
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| n.无忧无虑，快活( romp的名词复数 )v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的第三人称单数 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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108
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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109
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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110
witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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111
romping
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| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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112
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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113
countenancing
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| v.支持，赞同，批准( countenance的现在分词 ) | |
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114
grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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115
annexation
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| n.吞并，合并 | |
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116
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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117
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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118
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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119
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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120
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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121
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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122
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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123
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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124
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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125
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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126
tableaux
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| n.舞台造型，（由活人扮演的）静态画面、场面；人构成的画面或场景( tableau的名词复数 )；舞台造型；戏剧性的场面；绚丽的场景 | |
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127
sonata
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| n.奏鸣曲 | |
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128
zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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129
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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130
evoke
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| vt.唤起，引起，使人想起 | |
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131
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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132
vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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133
paraphernalia
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| n.装备；随身用品 | |
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134
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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135
dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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136
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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137
judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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138
prospered
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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139
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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140
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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141
purged
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| 清除（政敌等）( purge的过去式和过去分词 )； 涤除（罪恶等）； 净化（心灵、风气等）； 消除（错事等）的不良影响 | |
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142
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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143
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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144
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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145
holocaust
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| n.大破坏；大屠杀 | |
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146
intruding
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| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的现在分词)；把…强加于 | |
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147
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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148
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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149
electrified
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| v.使电气化( electrify的过去式和过去分词 )；使兴奋 | |
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