Pratt began to retreat. "I didn't know--"
"But suppose you didn't--what right have you to supervise my wife's affairs? Why didn't you send Professor Serviss's card to her? What business had you to say she was out?"
Pratt came down from his lofty pose. "So many strangers insist on seeing the psychic--"
"But Professor Serviss is not a stranger, and, furthermore, unless my wife's mind has weakened, she's quite competent to turn down any one she don't want to see. I can't understand why she is here, but I intend to find out. So long as she bears my name I don't want her to be under any obligation to a man of your stamp."
There was power and a quiet dignity in the little man, and Pratt began to plead his case. "I've tried to make it comfortable for them, and help on their work--"
Lambert looked up and down the splendid hall, and in a softer tone replied: "So far I'm in your debt, but I don't like it. I am able to provide for my family and I don't intend to share their supervision with you nor any other man. So far as I know, my wife still considers me the head of the family--anyhow, that's what I'm here to find out."
Mrs. Lambert appeared at the head of the stairs and called, in a tremulous voice: "Is that you, Joe?"
"It is, Julia. Come down."
Viola, with a cry of joy, left her mother's side and running down the steps, flung herself into Lambert's arms like a frightened child. "Oh, Papa-Joe--I'm so glad to see you!"
Lambert was astonished by the warmth of her greeting, and while she hid her face on his shoulder patted her awkwardly with soothing words of endearment until at last she lifted her pale and tear-wet face and whispered: "Oh, it's been a terrible day--take me away, quick!"
Lambert looked up at his wife. "Julia, what's been going on here? You both look like the dead."
Mrs. Lambert's face was wrinkled and haggard and wan like that of one grown suddenly old, and Morton was aware that her serenity was utterly gone before she spoke. Her voice was weak and piteous. "I thought it was all for the best, Joe. I followed the 'guides'--"
"Follow them a little longer and you'll all land in the mad-house," he replied. Then to Viola he tenderly said: "Don't you worry any more, girlie. Old Papa-Joe's going to take you home."
Serviss spoke. "You're to come to us to-night. Kate expects you both."
At the sound of his voice Viola turned with an impulsive reaching of the hands. "Oh, Dr. Serviss, that would be heavenly! I love your sister and her beautiful home."