But he realized dimly what a wonderful chance this new fashionable craze--for so he regarded it--gives to the charlatan.

He had always felt an attraction to that extraordinary eighteenth century adventurer, Cagliostro, and to-night he suddenly remembered a certain passage in Casanova's memoirs....

He felt rather sorry that they hadn't planned out this--this seance, before the rest of the party had arrived.

He could have given Bubbles a few "tips" which would have made her task easy, and the coming seance much more thrilling.
The company ranged themselves four on each side.
Miss Burnaby sat on one side of the fireplace, her brother on the other.
Next to the old lady was Sir Lyon; then Helen Brabazon; last their host.
On the opposite side, next to Mr.Burnaby, sat the fat-visaged James Tapster; by him was Blanche Farrow, looking on the proceedings with a certain cynical amusement and interest, and next to Blanche, and nearest to where Bubbles had now established herself on one of those low chairs which in England is called a nursery chair, and in France a _prie-dieu_, was young Donnington.

He, alone of the people there, looked uncomfortable and disapproving.
After they had all been seated, waiting they hardly knew for what, for a few moments, Bubbles leapt from her low chair and blew out all the candles, a somewhat lengthy task, and one which plunged the room into almost darkness.