Dale stopped in the alcove doorway. "There's nothing anybody can do
for me, really," she said soberly. "At least--oh, I don't know
what I'm saying! But don't worry. I'm quite all right. I may go
over to the country club after dinner--and dance. Won't you come
with me, Aunt Cornelia?"

"Depends on your escort," said Miss Cornelia tartly. "If our
landlord, Mr. Richard Fleming, is taking you I certainly shall--I
don't like his looks and never did!"

Dale laughed. "Oh, he's all right," she said. "Drinks a good deal
and wastes a lot of money, but harmless enough. No, this is a very
sedate party; I'll be home early."

"Well, in that case," said her aunt, "I shall stay here with my
Lizzie and my ouija-board. Lizzie deserves some punishment for the
very cowardly way she behaved this afternoon--and the ouija-board
will furnish it. She's scared to death to touch the thing. I think
she believes it's alive."

"Well, maybe I'll send you a message on it from the country club,"
said Dale lightly. She had paused, half-way up the flight of side
stairs in the alcove, and her aunt noticed how her shoulders drooped,
belying the lightness of her voice. "Oh," she went on, "by the way
--have the afternoon papers come yet? I didn't have time to get
one when I was rushing for the train."

"I don't think so, dear, but I'll ask Lizzie." Miss Cornelia moved
toward a bell push.