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"No, no!" the medium disagreed, sweetly but firmly. "Penelope's trouble is due to something quite different and far more serious than sh.e.l.l shock."
Then earnestly, undaunted by Owen's skeptical glances, Seraphine proceeded to set forth her belief that there is today in the world such a thing as literal possession by evil spirits.
"You mean that as applying to Mrs. Wells?" the doctor asked with a weary lift of the shoulders.
"Yes, I do. I can give you evidence--if you will only listen--"
"My dear lady, I really cannot go into such a--purely speculative field.
I must handle Mrs. Wells' case as I understand it with the help of means that I am familiar with."
"Of course, but, doctor," she begged, "don't be vexed with me, I am only trying to save this dear child, I love Penelope and--I _must_ say it--you are not making progress. She is going straight on to--to disaster. I _know_ what I am saying."
For a moment he hesitated.
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to have a consultation with Dr. Edgar Leroy."
"Dr. Edgar Leroy? Who is he? I never heard of him."
"He is a New York doctor who has had great success in cases like Penelope's--cases of obsession or--possession."
"Oh! Does he believe in that sort of thing? Is he a spiritualist?"
Seraphine felt the coldness of his tone and shrank from it, but she continued her effort, explaining that Dr. Leroy had been a regular pract.i.tioner for years, but he had changed his methods after extended psychic investigations that had led him to new knowledge--such wonderful knowledge! Her deep eyes burned with the zeal of a great faith.
"I see. Where is his office?"
"In Fortieth Street--it's in the telephone book--Dr. Edgar Leroy. If you only knew the extraordinary cures he has accomplished, you would realize how necessary it is for Penelope to have the help he alone can give her."
She waited eagerly for his reply.
"How do you happen to know so much about this doctor?"
"Because I have been allowed to help him. He uses me in diagnosis."
"You mean that Dr. Leroy relies upon information that you give him as a medium in treating cases?" He spoke with frank disapproval.
"Yes."
Dr. Owen thought a moment. "Of course, Mrs. Wells is free to consult anyone she pleases, but I would not feel justified in advising her to go to Dr. Leroy."
"But you _must_ advise it, you must insist upon it," urged Seraphine.
"Penelope relies entirely upon you, she will do nothing without your approval, and this is her only hope."
"My dear lady, you certainly are not lacking in confidence, but you must realize that I cannot advise a treatment for Mrs. Wells that involves the use of spiritualistic agencies when I do not believe in spiritualism. In fact, I regard spiritualism as--"
Seraphine lifted her hand with a wistful little smile that checked the outburst.
"Don't say it--please don't. Will you do one thing, doctor, not for me but for poor Penelope? Come to my house Monday night. I have a little cla.s.s there, a cla.s.s of eight. We have been working together for three months and--we have been getting results. You may be allowed to witness manifestations that will convince you. Will you come?" she pleaded.
"You mean that I may see a spirit form? Or hear some tambourines playing? Something of that sort?" His tone was almost contemptuously incredulous.
The anxious suppliant was gathering her forces to reply when the hall clock struck solemnly, bringing back disagreeably to the specialist's mind his impending social duty, and this was sufficient to turn the balance of his decision definitely against Seraphine. He shook his head uncompromisingly.
"I cannot do it, madam. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I have strong convictions on this subject and--" He rose to dismiss her. "Now I must ask you to excuse me."
In spite of this disappointment Seraphine did not lose faith. "Dear child," she wrote to Penelope that night, "I am like a man in the darkness who _knows_ the sun will rise soon and is not discouraged.
Before many days Dr. Owen will listen to me and be convinced."
Firm in this confidence, the medium returned to Dr. Owen's office the following Monday morning, but she was coldly received. A rather condescending young woman brought out word that the specialist was exceedingly busy and could not see her.
"But it is _so_ important," pleaded Mrs. Walters with eyes that would have moved a heart of stone. "Couldn't you ask him to give me a few minutes? I'll be very grateful."
The office a.s.sistant wavered. "I'll tell you why you had better come back another day, madam," she began confidentially; "Dr. Owen is very much upset because his wife has just lost some valuable jewelry. You see, Mrs. Owen went to Morristown for the week-end and took a jewel box with her in her trunk--there was a pearl necklace and some brooches and rings; but when she came to dress for dinner last night--"
"Wait! I--I hear something," Seraphine murmured and sank down weakly on a chair. She closed her eyes and her breathing quickened, while the young woman bent over her in concern; but almost immediately the psychic recovered herself and looked up with a friendly smile.
"It's all right. You are very kind. I am happy now because I can do something for Dr. Owen. Please tell him his wife is mistaken in thinking that she took the jewels with her. The jewels are here in this house--now."
"What makes you think that?"
"My control says so." The medium spoke with such a quiet power of manner that the office a.s.sistant was impressed.
"Suppose I tell Mrs. Owen?" she suggested.
"Very well, tell Mrs. Owen. Ask her if I may go to the room where she last remembers having her jewel box?"
The young woman withdrew with this message and presently returned to say that Mrs. Owen would be glad if Seraphine would come up to her bedroom.
A few minutes later Seraphine faced a querulous invalid propped up against lace pillows.
"I am positive I put my jewel box in the trunk," insisted Mrs. Owen. "It is foolish to say that I did not, it is perfectly useless to look for the jewels in this house. However--what are you doing? Why do you look at me so strangely?"
"The jewels are--in this room--in a chintz sewing bag," the psychic declared slowly, her eyes far away.
"Absurd!"
"I see the sewing bag--distinctly. There are pink roses on it."
"I have a sewing bag like that," admitted the doctor's wife, "it is on a shelf in the closet--there! Will you get it for me, Miss Marshall? We shall soon see about this. Now then!" She searched through the bag, but found nothing. "I told you so. My husband is quite right in his ideas about mediums. I really wish you had not disturbed me," she said impatiently.
But the medium answered pleasantly: "I have only repeated what my control tells me. I am sorry if I have annoyed you. I advise you to search the house carefully."
"I have done that already," said Mrs. Owen.
Whereupon Seraphine, still unruffled, took her departure, with these last words at the door to the office a.s.sistant: "Please tell Dr. Owen that I beg him most earnestly to have the house searched for his wife's jewels. Otherwise one of the servants will find them."
And Dr. Owen, in spite of his scientific prejudices, in spite of his wife's positive declaration that the jewels had been stolen during her visit, and that the house had been thoroughly searched, acted on this suggestion and had the house searched again. _And this time the missing jewel box was found, with the necklace, rings and brooches all intact, in a chintz sewing bag covered with pink roses!_