“Certainly,” replied Aunt Dinah; “we must have patience.”
“Will you ask, Ma’am, please, again if there’s a spirit in the room?” solicited the doctor; and the question being put, there came an upward heave of the table.
“Well!” exclaimed the doctor, looking at Winnie, “did you feel that?”
“Tilt, Ma’am,” said Winnie, who knew the intelligence would be welcome.
“What do you say?” inquired Miss Perfect triumphantly of William.
“Doctor Drake was changing his position just at the moment, and I perceived no other motion in the table—nothing but the little push he gave it,” answered William.
“Oh, pooh! yes, of course, there was that,” said the doctor a little crossly; “but I meant a sort of a start—a crack like, in the leaf of the table.”
“I felt nothing of the kind,” said William Maubray.
The doctor looked disgusted, and leaning back took a large pinch of snuff. There was a silence. Aunt Dinah’s lips were closed with a thoughtful frown as she looked down upon the top of the table.
“It is very strange. I certainly never witnessed in this house more unequivocal evidences—preliminary evidences, of course—of spiritual activity.”