Wednesday, April the Twenty-First
In order that I be allowed to go, I did not inform Aunt or Uncle about the séance when I returned home.
When first I came to live here, I selected my room partially based on its having an easy point of egress via the ivy lattice. I was a forward-thinking child. I used it here, finding it more difficult to manage than I would have guessed. It was mainly the fault of my sleeves, I believe, as I was clever enough to tie up my skirt before descending— but one must dress in a proper fashion when one goes out, however unusual the manner of one ' s departure.
I discovered fully two dozen ladies waiting to be admitted to the séance. Perdina Meeks was there, of course, making herself the center of attention as usual, but not even she could upstage Miss Basilio. When that lady arrived, gorgeously arrayed in jet and black velvet, and on the arm of Lord Gorey himself, Perdina declined into a sulk.
Lord Gorey seemed too distracted to notice even the discontent of the woman attached to him. Poor man, he hardly seemed to notice anything at all. He gave the assemblage only the briefest glance before walking through the sorcery shop. In his hand Lord Gorey held a large leather case, bound across with iron and secured with a mechanical lock.
The proprietor, J. W. Wells, smiled politely at Lord Gorey. " I think you will find that everything is in complete readiness, my lord. If you and your party would please step through to the parlor?"
Perdina and her group immediately pushed forward, clutching one another ' s hands and gaping about as if they were entering some exotic harem, rather than a perfectly ordinary room. A long table of black ebony-wood stood in the center of the room, scandalously unclad in any cloth, and fifteen chairs of simple design placed around it.
" Those of a more sensitive nature may find themselves more comfortably seated away from the main table,” Wells instructed.“ The distance may diminish the more palpable visions and terrors.”
No one, it seemed, deemed they were likely to faint or have fits. I was able to claim the seat opposite Lord Gorey, and directly to the right of J. W. Wells himself. Even though J. W. Wells is judged an honest sorcerer, one still hears rumors of underhanded fakery at séances.
J. W. Wells stood, silent and still, until all the ladies had found their seats, and then he looked down the table at Lord Gorey. " I must ask,” he said.“ How did your late wife pass?” " She... died in her sleep." " There was no violence to her passing?" Everyone ' s face turned avidly to Lord Gorey ' s. It was quite like observing a flock of black-clad vultures.
" No," he answered. " No violence of any kind, whatsoever." " Then," J. W. Wells said. " We may begin." He reached across the table and took my hand, and that of the lady on his other side.
" Now think of the lady," J. W. Wells said. " Bring her into your minds and memory as though she yet lived. Give her spirit flesh."
And then he was silent, and we all sat in the dark together, and no one dared even to breathe. I had considerable trouble giving Lady Gorey flesh. I had only met her once. I remembered dark pretty eyes, and a shawl I had envied of her, and little else. I wondered, if Miss Basilio were to become the second Lady Gorey( as she so clearly wished), would she then inherit this shawl?
And then, I realized that his hand, which had been of a normal temperature when he had first taken mine, was now cold... and