“So we do,” agreed Fibsy; “why once I drempt that—”
“Excuse me, young sir, but I’ve no time to listen to your dreams. The séance is at an end, madam. Your companion probably cut it off prematurely—but perhaps not. Perhaps the communication was about over, anyway. Are you satisfied, Miss Ames?”
“Yes, Mr. Marigny. I know the appearance of Mr. Embury was a genuine visitation, for he called me by a peculiar name which no one else ever used, and which you could not possibly know about.”
“That is indeed a positive test. I am glad you received what you wished for. The fee is ten dollars, madam.”
Aunt Abby paid it willingly enough, and with Fibsy, took her departure.
On reaching home they found Alvord Hendricks there. Mason Elliott had tarried and Fleming Stone, too, was still there. Eunice was awaiting Aunt Abby’s return to have dinner served.
“I thought you’d never come, Auntie,” said Eunice, greeting her warmly. Eunice was in a most pleasant mood, and seemed to have become entirely reconciled to the presence of Stone.
“You will dine here, too, Terence,” she said kindly to the boy, who replied, “Yes, ma’am,” very respectfully.
“Well, Eunice,” Aunt Abby announced, after they were seated at the table, “I’m the criminal, after all.”
“You seem pretty cheerful about it,” said Hendricks, looking at her in astonishment.