request," he said, at last.
Ford made no comment, but continued to smoke. His pipe died out; he struck a match and kindled it again; and then smoked as before. "Mr. Hatch," he asked finally, "are you a spiritualist?"
"I am a spiritualist, but I am not a fool," replied Hatch.
"Then you don't care for the effect of this seance on the fortunes of your creed?"
"No, I don't. I care for the effect of it on a young lady who dreads it, and who—and on a man that I owe a good deal to. Look here, Mr. Ford; I don't decide on these things. I suppose spiritualism is a matter of faith, like other religions. These people are in earnest about it; that is, Dr. Boynton is, and his daughter thinks and does whatever he tells her to. I'm sorry they're in the business, and I wish they were out of it. They're good people, and as innocent as babies, both of 'em. I don't like the way you take with me, but you can walk over me as much as you like, if only you'll grant this favor. I'm in hopes to get them back to where they belong. I used to live in their town, and I know all about them. He's a visionary, but he's a good man, and their people are first-rate people. I would do anything I could for him. He's got a heart as tender as a child."
"Very likely," said Ford, with irony. "But I fail to see why I should let this childlike philanthropist go about preying upon the public. I may have my own opinion of his innocence. What if I told you I had detected them in a trick the other night?"
"I shouldn't believe you," answered Hatch, promptly.
Phillips half started out of his chair, but Ford smoked on unperturbed, and asked, as if the question were a pure abstraction, "Why?"
" Because I know that they couldn't cheat."
"But if I told you they did, should you consider them innocent?"
"I shouldn't doubt them in the least. And let me tell you "—
Ford turned his back upon Hatch, and knocked the ashes of his pipe out against the corner of the chimney-piece. "Mr. Hatch, you said, a moment ago, that you were a spiritualist, but not a fool. I shall not say whether I will or will not refuse Dr. Boynton's proposition."
Ford began to fill his pipe again, and paid not enough regard to Hatch's presence to seem to wish him away; it was quite as if he were not there, so far as Ford was concerned.
"Look here," Hatch began, "I am sorry that I offended you. I'm anxious to get you to say that you won't accept Dr. Boynton's challenge."
"I perceive that you are anxious," assented Ford.
"Oh, if I only— It's a very serious matter,—it is indeed! I would do anything to get you to say that. Come, now! The young lady is in delicate health; she will do whatever her father tells her, and if she does this I believe it will kill her."
Ford made no reply.
"I can see the thing from your point of view. I suppose you feel that you have a public duty to perform, and all that sort of thing. Well, now, I'm going to make a strong move to get Dr. Boynton out of this business any way; and I ask you just to hold on till I have a chance to try. Can't you tell him that you'll think it over? Can't you go so far as to put him off a day, or half a day?"
Ford took a book, and going to a chair at the window began to look into it.
"Come," pleaded the other, "give me some sort of answer."
Ford seemed not to have heard him.
"Well, sir," said Hatch, "I've done with you!" He stared at Ford in even more amaze than anger, and after waiting a moment, as if searching his mind for some fitting reproach, he turned and went out of the room.
Phillips rose from his chair with a shrug. "My dear fellow," he said, "I hope you'll let me know when this ordeal takes place."
"What ordeal?" asked Ford, without looking up from his book.
"Surely I needn't specify your public test seance with the Pythoness and her papa."
"I am not going to meet Dr. Boynton in the way you mean," returned Ford, quietly.
" No? Why, this is magnanimity!"
"I've no doubt it's inconceivable to you."
"Not at all! I know you better; you could be magnanimous to carry a point. But it must be inconceivable to our friend who has just left us. I fancied he was something in leather. Should you say shoes, or leather generally?"
Ford scorned to notice the conjecture as to Hatch's business. "Are you fool enough to suppose that Dr. Boynton ever intended to come to me on such an errand!"
"Why, I fancied so."
"You had better bridle your fancy, then. He has too much method in his madness for that. What he wanted was my refusal, beforehand, for professional use. He didn't get it. This fellow is part of the game. But I don't wonder you sympathize with him. He is a brother dilettante, it seems. He dabbles in ghosts as you dabble in bric-a-brac. He believes as much in ghosts as you believe in your Bonifazios. They may be genuine; in the meantime, you like to talk as if they were. Upon the whole, I believe I prefer blind superstition."
"Why, so do I," said Phillips. "The trouble is to get your blind superstition. I confess that when I was at Mrs. Le Roy's, —what an uncommonly good factitious name for the profession!—and saw the performances of the phantom-like Egeria,—that'« a good name, too!—I experienced a very agreeable sensation of fear. It was really something to be proud of. But it wouldn't last. It haunted me for a night or two; but I'm no more afraid in the dark now than I was before. And the worst of it is that my interest in the affair is gone with my terrors. Apparitions have palled upon me. It is quite as the good doctor said: people bore themselves with seances very soon. The question at present is, Will you go with me to Mrs. Burton's to lunch?"
"No," said Ford.
"You're in the wrong, Ford," argued Phillips. "You would please Mrs. Burton by coming; but it won't matter to her if you don't. That's the attitude of society towards the individual, and upon the whole one can't complain of it. You had better come. Mrs. Burton is really making a very pretty fist at a salon. In the first place, she keeps Burton out of the way: it's essential to a salon not to have the husband in it. You will meet the passing Englishman there, whoever he is; you stand a chance of seeing the starring actor or actress,—operatic or dramatic; authors we have always with us, and painters, of course. Mrs. Burton is so far from pretty herself that she is not afraid to ask charming women who are also beautiful; you've no idea what decorative qualities beautiful women have. And then she introduces the purely American element, the visiting young lady. Really, she has an uncommon feeling for pretty girls; I'll never knew her to have an inharmonious young person staying with her yet; with her sense of values, the composition of her salon is delightful. Will you come? She told me to bring you; what excuse shall I make?"
"Tell her that I'm not the sort of person to he brought."
"Oh, there you do yourself wrong. I shall be more just to her ideal of you. Good-bye."
A knock was heard at the door, and Ford, without rising, growled, "Come in."
The door flew open, and Boynton burst into the room in the face of Phillips, who was just going out. He caught him by the hand.
"Why,
