“It’s K,” cried Hinpoha, covering her face with her hands. “What names begin with K?”
“King,” said Gladys.
“Knight,” suggested Katherine.
“All the noble names,” said Nakwisi dreamily.
“Mrs. Daniel King,” said Sahwah experimentally, whereupon Hinpoha hid her face in the bearskin rug.
“You try it, Katherine,” said Gladys. “I’ll hold the key with you.”
“Oh, I’m afraid to try it,” said Katherine, hanging back and looking uncomfortable. “It’s no use, anyway; nobody’d have me for a gift.”
“It always tells the truth,” said the blushing Hinpoha. “You know Miss Vining, Clara Morrison’s old maid aunt? Well, Clara persuaded her to try it and it wouldn’t turn for her at all, and they went through the alphabet three times in succession.”
With a skeptical expression Katherine suffered herself to be placed on the box covered with an old piece of tapestry displaying a threadbare figure of the three fates, which was the seat of those engaged in the mysteries. “My beloved is mine, and I am his,” she recited jerkily, keeping her eyes glued to the key. “He feedeth upon a row of lilies——”
“It’s ‘He feedeth upon the lilies,’ just ‘the lilies’; the ‘row’ part comes later,” interrupted Gladys in a sharp whisper.