Athalie's cheeks grew warm: "I am not a medium," she said. "That crystal is not my own."
"That may be. Maybe you don't think you are a medium. But you are, Miss Greensleeve. I know. I'm a little that way, too,—just a very little. Oh, I could go into the business and fake it of course,—like all the others—or most of them. But you are the real thing. Why," she exclaimed in vexation, "didn't I know it as soon as I laid eyes on you? I certainly was subconscious of something. Why you could do anything you pleased with the power you have if you'd care to learn the business. There's money in it—take it from me!"
Athalie said, after a few moments of silence: "I don't think I understand. Is there a way of—of developing clear vision?"
"Haven't you ever tried?"
"Never.... Except when a little while ago I went over to the crystal and—and tried to find—somebody."
"Did you find—that person?"
"No."
Mrs. Bellmore shook her fat head: "You needn't tell me any more. You can't ever do yourself any good by crystal gazing—you poor child."
Athalie's head dropped.
"No, it's no use," said the other. "If you go into the business and play square you can sometimes help