Favourite theories, indeed! I haven't any. My mind is as open as day to
truth from any quarter. Only I distrust apostles with no vowels in their
names ever since that one, two years ago, made off with the spoons."

"No, George, he did not take any plate. It was money, and money Lucinda
gave him herself for bringing her letters from her father."

"Where was her father, then?" I inquired, much interested.

"Well, he was--a--he was dead," answered Lady Atherley; "and after some
time, a very low sort of person called upon Lucinda and said she wrote
all the letters; but Lucinda could not get the money back without going
to law, as some people wished her to do; but I am glad she did not, as I
think the papers would have said very unpleasant things about it."

"The apostle I liked best," said Atherley, "was the American one. I
really admired old Stamps, and old Stamps admired me; for she knew I
thoroughly understood what an unmitigated humbug she was. She had a fine
sense of humour, too. How her eyes used to twinkle when I asked posers
at her prayer-meetings!"

"Dreadful woman!" cried Lady Atherley. "Lucinda brought her to lunch
once. Such black nails, and she said she could make the plates and
dishes fly about the room, but I said I would rather not. I am thankful
she does not want to bring this baron with her."

"I would not have him. I draw the line there, and also at spiritual
seances. I am too old for them. Do you remember one I took you to at
Mrs. Molyneux's, Lindy, five years ago, when they raised poor old
Professor Delaine, and he danced on the table and spelt bliss with one