"But it's perfectly charming of you!" some one put in.
"Perfectly delicious!" said Marie.
"Now, who shall I take first?" Emmeline asked, puzzled.
"Oh, me, of course!" Marie Deschamps replied without a hesitation or a
doubt, though she and I had come in last. And the others acquiesced,
because Marie was on the topmost bough of all.
"Come along, then," said Emmeline, relieved.
I made as if to follow them.
"No, Mr. Foster," said Marie. "You just stay here, and don't listen."
The two women disappeared behind the portière, and a faint giggle,
soon suppressed, came through the portière from Marie.
I obeyed her orders, but as I had not the advantage of knowing a
single person in that outer room, I took myself off for a stroll, in
the hope of encountering Rosetta Rosa. Yes, certainly in the hope of
encountering Rosetta Rosa! But in none of the thronged chambers did I
discover her.
When I came back, the waiting-room for prospective crystal-gazers was
empty, and Emmeline herself was just leaving it.
"What!" I exclaimed. "All over?"
"Yes," she said; "Sullivan has sent for me. You see, of course, one
has to mingle with one's guests. Only they're really Sullivan's
guests."
"And what about me?" I said. "Am I not going to have a look into the
crystal?"
I had, as a matter of fact, not the slightest interest in her crystal
at that instant. I regarded the crystal as a harmless distraction of
hers, and I was being simply jocular when I made that remark.
Emmeline, however, took it seriously. As her face had changed when
she first saw me in the box at the Opera, and again to-night when she
met me and Marie Deschamps on my arm, so once more it changed now.
"Do you really want to?" she questioned me, in her thrilling voice.
My soul said: "It's all rubbish--but suppose there is something in it,
after all?"
And I said aloud: "Yes."
"Come, then."
We passed through the room with the red Japanese lantern, and lo! the
next room was perfectly dark save for an oval of white light which
fell slantingly on a black marble table. The effect was rather
disconcerting at first; but the explanation was entirely simple. The
light came from an electric table-lamp (with a black cardboard shade
arranged at an angle) which stood on the table. As my eyes grew
accustomed to the obscurity I discovered two chairs.
"Sit down," said Emmeline.
And she and I each took one of the chairs, at opposite sides of the
table.
Emmeline was magnificently attired. As I looked at her in the dimness
across the table, she drummed her fingers on the marble, and then she
bent her face to glance within the shade of the lamp, and for a second
her long and heavy, yet handsome, features were displayed to the
minutest part in the blinding ray of the lamp, and the next second
they were in obscurity again. It was uncanny. I was impressed; and all
the superstition which, like a snake, lies hidden in the heart of
every man, stirred vaguely and raised its head.