“The new science,” the Duchess answered, with a note of triumph in her tone. “You will learn all about it some day, and you cannot begin too soon. The young man whom Professor Naudheim spoke so highly of is dining here to-night. Curiously enough, I found that he was almost a neighbor of both of ours.”
There was an instant’s silence. Pauline, who was prepared, was now perhaps the calmest of the trio. Rochester’s face was dark with anger.
“You refer, Duchess, I suppose,” he said—
The Duchess left him unceremoniously. She took a step or two forward with outstretched hands. The butler was announcing—
“Mr. Saton!”
The dinner was as successful as the Duchess’s country dinners always were. She herself, a hostess of renown, led the conversation at her end of the table. Like all women with a new craze, she conscientiously did her best to keep it in the background, and completely failed. Before the third course had been removed, she was discussing occultism with the bishop of the diocese. Rochester, from her other side, listened with a thin smile. She turned upon him suddenly.
“Oh, I know that you’re an unbeliever!” she said. “You’re one of those people who go through life doubting everything. You shan’t have him for an ally, Bishop,” she said, “because your points of view are entirely different. Henry here doubts everything, from his own existence to the vintage of my champagne. You, on the other hand,” she added, turning toward her other companion, “are forced to disbelieve, because you feel that any new power or gift that may be granted to us, and which we discover for ourselves, is opposed, of course, to your creed.”
“It depends,” the bishop remarked, “upon the nature of that power.”
“Even in its elementary stages,” the Duchess said, “there is no doubt that it is a power which can do a great deal for us towards solving the mysteries of existence. Personally, I consider it absolutely and entirely inimical to any form of religious belief.”