Britt poised himself. "Let me tell you this. I have started in to understand this thing. It isn't a haphazard series of deceits, of that I am at this moment convinced. The most amazing consideration to my mind is this: there is system in their fool-tricks. I don't mean Miss Lambert alone, I mean in all the best-authenticated manifestations. As you say, they know how to attack the public; the ones who don't are exposed and drop out; but, generally speaking, they go on smoothly because they know just what can be safely attempted and what can't. Now in Miss Lambert's case the same system appears. Her alleged phenomena fit into the scheme, her development is according to the spiritualistic Hoyle. No originality is permitted, hence no failure of effect."
"And yet my brother tells me she is quite young and engaging."
"Altogether charming in body, and in every other thought most ingenuous."
Morton interposed mockingly. "And you think she has built up this most elaborate system of deceit?"
"Somebody has. I lay a good part of it to Clarke, but most of it to hysteria and the suggestion of The Flag of Truth and other similar sheets."
"But she already had all these manifestations before Clarke's coming, and presumably before she read The Flag of Truth."
"They say so. I don't know that. Many of the tricks are noted in Randall's notes."
"Who was Randall?" asked Kate.
"Their family physician--my predecessor. Some of her phenomena convinced him. He put himself on record in his notes as a convert. However, that was after his wife died."
"They all weaken when their wives die."
"Not all; some are not anxious to bridge the gulf," answered Britt, lightly. "I'm told Clarke's communion with his dead wife is now as cool as friendship."
Kate faced him. "It's only fair to say, Dr. Britt, that I, too, am one of the 'bereaved,' and that if I seem more hospitable to these messages than my brother you will understand. My husband died two years ago."
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Rice, if I've seemed too harsh in my zeal to explain--"
"Oh, I'm not one to fear the truth," she answered, quickly. "I come of a family of questioners. It's only now and then that I waver--for a moment. My husband said he would come back to me if he could, and I've been half hoping--not really expecting it, you know--"
She did not complete her sentence, and Morton spoke with tender reproach. "I am being profoundly illumined, Kate. Why didn't you tell me that?"
"Because it was only a jocular remark. I didn't intend you should know it. I don't know how I came to let it slip from my mouth. He has never returned, strange to say. I feel mother, but never Hayward."