"Oh, yes, it is, Eunice, in this day and generation. Nobody
thinks a man can do any great creative work after thirty.
Inventing, you know, or art or literature--honestly, that's the
attitude now. Isn't it, Mason?"

Elliott looked serious. "It is an opinion recently expressed by
some big man," he admitted. "But I don't subscribe to it. Why,
I'd be sorry to think I'm a down-and-outer! And I'm in the class
with you and Embury."

"You're none of you in the sere and yellow," declared Eunice,
laughing at the idea. "Why, even Aunt Abby, in spite of the
family record, is about as young as any of us."

"I know I am," said the old lady, serenely. "And I know more
about my hobby of psychic lore in a minute than you young things
ever heard of in all your life! So, don't attempt to tell me
what's what!"

"That's right, Miss Ames, you do!" and Mason Elliott looked
earnestly at her. "I'm half inclined to go over to your side
myself. Will you take me some time to one of your seances--but
wait, I only, want to go to one where, as you said, the psychic
manifestations are perceptible to one or more of the five
well-known senses. I don't want any of this talk of a mysterious
sixth sense."

"Oh, Mason, I wish you would go with me! Madame Medora gives
wonderful readings!"