"Nothing could be better for me, Mrs. Rice, I assure you," he answered, gallantly. "A formal dinner would embarrass me. I've been so long in the hills I feel like a Long Island hermit. It's a far halloo from Colorow to the Bowery."
"It's farther still from the Bowery to Colorow. That's what makes you Western people so interesting to us of the East."
"Please don't make me out an honored son of the West, Mrs. Rice. I was born in New Jersey."
"Were you, indeed? Oh, I'm so sorry."
"I regret it myself. The West would have fitted me out with better lungs."
Kate never went round when she could wade across. Therefore, no sooner were they inhaling the savor of the soup than she began her interrogation. "I am very much interested in occult affairs, Dr. Britt, and my brother tells me you were the family physician of this remarkable Miss Lambert. Tell us about her."
Britt considered a moment. "It is true that Mrs. Lambert confided in me and permitted me to take a part in Viola's sittings; but I can hardly be called her physician. In the first place, the girl seems so perfectly well physically that medicine is unnecessary, and then, too, I never had her confidence. To be plain, I think she hated the sight of me."
"Why was that?"
He cast a curious sidewise glance. "Well, I'm not pretty to look at, and then, I reckon she thought I was investigating her."
"I hope you were."
"I was, but I didn't get very far."
"What barred you?"
"Well, to begin with, pretty nearly everything took place in the dark."
"It's always so," exclaimed Kate. "I wonder why?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "They all say 'light is antagonistic to the power.' You can draw your own inference."
Morton spoke. "I never could understand why they didn't make a special effort to avoid that criticism."
"Well, tell us what happened," cried Kate. "I'm on the edge of my chair with interest."
Britt looked at Morton. "That's the curious thing, isn't it? People are interested. The fact is, we all secretly hope the ghost-story may turn out to be true."
Kate laughed. "You're perfectly right. We all pooh-pooh, but we'd be bitterly disappointed if all spirit footsteps turned out to be rats rolling nuts. But please hurry--wasn't any of it true?"
"Now, I'm going to be candid--"
At this Morton leaned forward with excess of interest, and Kate exulted. "Good! Now it's coming. Be as candid as you can."
Britt went on musingly. "One night as I sat between Viola and the closed piano, the spook, or whatever it was, ran up and down the keys--now on the treble, now on the bass--keeping time to my whistling."