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except for his eye, but he was anxious that his sister’s feelings not be wounded by even this small transgression. If necessary, he would have a word with him, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
    Mrs. Elliott had dutifully attended her father-in-law the day after her arrival, but what the old man made of her was unknown, for by now he was apparently so far gone that it was unlikely that he even realized she was there. She must have concluded the same thing, for she made no move to return to the Elliott farm. Instead, she wandered the town, her small, pale son in tow, and handed her cards to everyone she met. Daniel had a supply of these cards, for she had asked him to leave a pile on the table in the entrance hall. He showed one to Lewis. Psychic Guide , it said in an ornamented script, and underneath, in plainer letters, Mesmerism, Transportation and Spirit Communication, Dr. & Mrs. Nathan Elliott. Rates upon inquiry .
    â€œWhat nonsense is this?” Lewis said. “Spirit communication? What’s that supposed to be about?”
    â€œI asked the same thing,” Daniel said. “Apparently, Mrs. Elliott has the ability to contact the dead, and helps their relatives speak with them, make sure they’re all right, that sort of thing. It all seems very odd, doesn’t it?”
    Lewis was quite prepared to overlook the obsession with dress that Clementine Elliott had ignited, but this was something he could not countenance.
    â€œThis is wrong,” he said flatly, “a desecration. Not only that, I suspect it’s impossible anyway. This can’t be anything but a parlour trick.”
    Daniel shrugged. “It’s got everybody talking.”
    â€œI expect it has,” Lewis said. “That doesn’t mean it’s right. Has any fool actually taken her up on it?”
    Daniel appeared unconcerned. “Not yet, but I suspect it’s only a matter of time. There are plenty enough people who are desperate over the loss of a loved one. And there will be plenty of people who are curious enough to come at least once, just to see what it’s all about.”
    â€œYou’ll have to tell her she can’t do that sort of thing here.”
    Daniel bristled. “Now, why on earth should I do that? It’s none of my business … and she’s a paying customer.”
    â€œBut it’s fraud,” Lewis protested. “You’d be a party to it.”
    â€œI don’t see how you can come to that conclusion. All I do is rent the rooms. Besides, how do you know it’s a fraud? Maybe she can do what she claims.”
    â€œYou know that can’t be true, Daniel.”
    â€œNo, I don’t know for sure,” he said. “Maybe she can. Whether she can or not, all she’s really doing is bringing a little comfort to folks. What’s wrong with that?”
    â€œBut it’s a lie.”
    â€œOh, leave it alone, Thaddeus. She’s not hurting anybody. Not everybody has your conviction, you know.”
    In spite of his certainty that contacting the dead was both impious and impossible, Lewis had to concede that there was a certain element of truth in this argument, for he, too, had once been guilty of a longing to communicate with his lost daughters. He wondered if he would have availed himself of a similar service had it been available at the time of his most intense grief. In spite of his moral objections, he rather suspected that he might have considered it.

Chapter Four
    Clementine stood at her upstairs window and watched as two women struggled down the street toward the hotel. She recognized one of them; the woman had been at the fusty little dry goods store the day before when she had called, and had seemed quite interested when she had been handed a card. The woman’s eyes had been red-rimmed. A recent loss, and a heavy one from the look of it , she had thought at the time. She would have spoken with the woman at greater