The woman let them come into the house.

The street door opened straight into the parlor, as is the way in the small houses of the south.  The parlor had a thick and flowered carpet on the floor.  The room was full of dirty things all made by hand.  Some hung upon the wall, some were on the seats and over backs of chairs and some on tables and on those what-nots that poor people love.  And everywhere were little things that break.  Many of these little things were broken and the place was stuffy and not clean.

No medium uses her parlor for her work.  It is always in her eating room that she has her trances.

The eating room in all these houses is the living room in winter.  It has a round table in the centre covered with a decorated woolen cloth, that has soaked in the grease of many dinners, for though it should be always taken off, it is easier to spread the cloth upon it than change it for the blanket deadener that one owns.  The upholstered chairs are dark and worn, and dirty.  The carpet has grown dingy with the food that’s fallen from the table, the dirt that’s scraped from off the shoes, and the dust that settles with the ages.  The sombre greenish colored paper on the walls has been smoked a dismal dirty grey, and all pervading is the smell of soup made out of onions and fat chunks of meat.

The medium brought Mrs. Lehntman and our Anna into this eating room, after she had found out what it was they wanted.  They all three sat around the table and then the medium went into her trance.

The medium first closed her eyes and then they opened very wide and lifeless.  She took a number of deep breaths, choked several times and swallowed very hard.  She waved her hand back every now and then, and she began to speak in a monotonous slow, even tone.

“I see—­I see—­don’t crowd so on me,—­I see—­I see—­too many forms—­don’t crowd so on me—­I see—­I see—­you are thinking of something—­you don’t know whether you want to do it now.  I see—­I see—­don’t crowd so on me—­I see—­I see—­you are not sure,—­I see—­I see—­a house with trees around it,—­it is dark—­it is evening—­I see—­I see—­you go in the house—­I see—­I see you come out—­it will be all right—­you go and do it—­do what you are not certain about—­it will come out all right—­it is best and you should do it now.”

She stopped, she made deep gulps, her eyes rolled back into her head, she swallowed hard and then she was her former dingy and bland self again.

“Did you get what you wanted that the spirit should tell you?” the woman asked.  Mrs. Lehntman answered yes, it was just what her friend had wanted so bad to know.  Anna was uneasy in this house with superstition, with fear of her good priest, and with disgust at all the dirt and grease, but she was most content for now she knew what it was best for her to do.

Anna paid the woman for her work and then they came away.

“There Anna didn’t I tell you how it would all be?  You see the spirit says so too.  You must take the place with Miss Mathilda, that is what I told you was the best thing for you to do.  We go out and see her where she lives to-night.  Ain’t you glad, Anna, that I took you to this place, so you know now what you will do?”