"
Miss Pole, then, had seen the conjuror--the real, live conjuror!
and numerous were the questions we all asked her. "Had he a
beard?" "Was he young, or old?" "Fair, or dark?" "Did he look"--
(unable to shape my question prudently, I put it in another form)--
"How did he look?" In short, Miss Pole was the heroine of the
evening, owing to her morning's encounter. If she was not the rose
(that is to say the conjuror) she had been near it.
Conjuration, sleight of hand, magic, witchcraft, were the subjects
of the evening. Miss Pole was slightly sceptical, and inclined to
think there might be a scientific solution found for even the
proceedings of the Witch of Endor. Mrs Forrester believed
everything, from ghosts to death-watches. Miss Matty ranged
between the two--always convinced by the last speaker. I think she
was naturally more inclined to Mrs Forrester's side, but a desire
of proving herself a worthy sister to Miss Jenkyns kept her equally
balanced--Miss Jenkyns, who would never allow a servant to call the
little rolls of tallow that formed themselves round candles
"winding-sheets," but insisted on their being spoken of as "roley-
poleys!" A sister of hers to be superstitious! It would never do.
After tea, I was despatched downstairs into the dining-parlour for
that volume of the old Encyclopaedia which contained the nouns
beginning with C, in order that Miss Pole might prime herself with
scientific explanations for the tricks of the following evening.
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