The Necromancers | Page 9

that steady workaday acceptance of
religious facts that marked the born Catholic.
"Mrs. Stapleton is a New Thought kind of person," she said presently.
"So I understand," said the old lady, with a touch of peevishness. "A
vegetarian last year. And I believe she was a sort of Buddhist five or six
years ago. And then she nearly became a Christian Scientist a little
while ago."
Maggie smiled.
"I wonder what she'll talk about," she said.
"I hope she won't be very advanced," went on the old lady. "And you
think I'd better not tell her about Laurie?"
"I'm sure it's best not," said the girl, "or she'll tell him about Deep
Breathing, or saying Om, or something. No; I should let Laurie alone."
* * * * *
It was a little before one o'clock that the motor arrived, and that there
descended from it at the iron gate a tall, slender woman, hooded and
veiled, who walked up the little path, observed by Maggie from her
bedroom, with a kind of whisking step. The motor moved on, wheeled
in through the gates at the left, and sank into silence in the stable-yard.

"It's too charming of you, dear Mrs. Baxter," Maggie heard as she came
into the drawing-room a minute or two later, "to let me come over like
this. I've heard so much about this house. Lady Laura was telling me
how very psychical it all was."
"My adopted daughter, Miss Deronnais," observed the old lady.
Maggie saw a rather pretty, passé face, triangular in shape, with small
red lips, looking at her, as she made her greetings.
"Ah! how perfect all this is," went on the guest presently, looking about
her, "how suggestive, how full of meaning!"
She threw back her cloak presently, and Maggie observed that she was
busy with various very beautiful little emblems--a scarab, a snake
swallowing its tail, and so forth--all exquisitely made, and hung upon a
slender chain of some green enamel-like material. Certainly she was
true to type. As the full light fell upon her it became plain that this
other-worldly soul did not disdain to use certain toilet requisites upon
her face; and a curious Eastern odor exhaled from her dress.
Fortunately, Maggie had a very deep sense of humor, and she hardly
resented all this at all, nor even the tactful hints dropped from time to
time, after the conventional part of the conversation was over, to the
effect that Christianity was, of course, played out, and that a Higher
Light had dawned. Mrs. Stapleton did not quite say this outright, but it
amounted to as much. Even before Laurie came downstairs it appeared
that the lady did not go to church, yet that, such was her
broad-mindedness, she did not at all object to do so. It was all one, it
seemed, in the Deeper Unity. Nothing particular was true; but all was
very suggestive and significant and symbolical of something else to
which Mrs. Stapleton and a few friends had the key.
Mrs. Baxter made more than one attempt to get back to more mundane
subjects, but it was useless. When even the weather serves as a symbol,
the plain man is done for.
Then Laurie came in.

He looked very self-contained and rather pinched this morning, and
shook hands with the lady without a word. Then they moved across
presently to the green-hung dining-room across the hall, and the
exquisite symbol of Luncheon made its appearance.
Lady Laura, it appeared, was one of those who had felt the charm of
Stantons; only for her it was psychical rather than physical, and all this
was passed on by her friend. It seemed that the psychical atmosphere of
most modern houses was of a yellow tint, but that this one emanated a
brown-gold radiance which was very peculiar and exceptional. Indeed,
it was this singularity that had caused Mrs. Stapleton to apply for an
invitation to the house. More than once during lunch, in a pause of the
conversation, Maggie saw her throw back her head slightly as if to
appreciate some odor or color not experienced by coarser-nerved
persons. Once, indeed, she actually put this into words.
"Dear Laura was quite right," cried the lady; "there is something very
unique about this place. How fortunate you are, dear Mrs. Baxter!"
"My dear husband's grandfather bought the place," observed the
mistress plaintively. "We have always found it very soothing and
pleasant."
"How right you are! And--and have you had any experiences here?"
Mrs. Baxter eyed her in alarm. Maggie had an irrepressible burst of
internal laughter, which, however, gave no hint of its presence in her
steady features. She glanced at Laurie, who was eating mutton with a
depressed air.
"I was talking to Mr. Vincent, the great spiritualist,"