"Yes. You said the other night that he was supposed not to be a common medium. My sister has told me that Mrs. Durgan——"
"Yes, yes, I know."
"I only mean that just a few people went to him, and my father had gone. Oh, I believe he went often, and he used to tell us things that vexed Hermie so."
"What things?"
"Oh, about knocks and tables moving. And then dear father began to receive knocks and messages from our mother. That made Hermie almost frantic. She remembered mother well, and was offended. She called it 'profanity.' But I am sure my father did not know how it vexed her; he was always so considerate."
"The boy came from Beardsley?"
"Oh, yes. We knew, and know, nothing about the boy. He asked for my father, and was told to wait in the kitchen. I saw him there, and so did the maids. But only Hermie knew about the note—he gave it to her. She took it upstairs. I saw that she looked very white and angry. She told me that it was a message from that 'shameful impostor.' Then Hermie asked me to gather fruit in the garden, and she sent out the maids up the street. Then, some time after that, she—ah, you know it all!—gave the alarm. She called in people, and they went and rang for the police. She was very calm. Everyone knows the whole story after that."
"Yes; but tell me what you did."
"She never allowed me to go into that room where—— She told me my father was too much disfigured for me to recognize him. Oh, I thought of nothing but the loss of my father all that day. I went into his dressing-room and cried there. I took out his dear clothes and laid my head on them. Hermie sat with me part of the day. The police were in charge of the house; but no one had thought then of accusing her.