Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1876-06-01

as could see in the uncertain light, in either
voice or manner, of one requiring the services
of physician. On the contrary, there was
a repose-a calmness-a selfpoise-that is
never seen, save in persons in good health.
There was slight flush upon her cheek and
lip, indicative of possible excitement; but ex-
citement wholly and entirely under control.
It added, I could not help observing, to her
usually rather stately style of beauty a girl
ishness which made her pleasant features far
more expressive than I could have believed
possible.
She must have noticed the astonishment
with which I regarded her; for the surprise
I felt had thus far found no expression in
words.
II see you wonder why have sent for you,
DR.. Pangbornei" she said, after the first
greeting was over and her maid had lighted
the gas "You expected to find me i'll, and
on the contrary, you see me in robust health
I was never sick in my life that l can remem-
ber-so far as the word can apply to the phys
ical, but in spiritual sense I need a physi-
cian-a counselor, an advisor-for in that
sense my illness is serious and alarming!'
I was about to ask her why she did not
send for clergyman whose duties would ap-
pear to be of the nature she required; when,
as if divining my thoughts, she continued
mo mere clergyman, however devout and
disiuterested he might be, could solve the diff
6culty; or finding the solution, could apply
the remedy. A man of nerve-of decision
of sense-one whose pursuits and love of
science have led him into these fields, COM
paratively unexplored-wheret the hidden laws
of Nature, and the marvellous working Of the
occult forces have given him belief in things
beyond the scope of his present vision-things
attaiuable and to be grasped hereafter, as he
progresses toward the ultimate and the true;
a man who has been, and is both student and
observer-such, in short, DR.. Pangborne, as I
believe you to be. With which preamble, if
have not already frightened you" she went
on with half smile of seriousness, 81 will
make known to you certain facts-astounding
in themselves by the light of old superstitions
but, save for results, absolutely as unimport-
ant, and as much under control of divine law,
as the moving of ones finger by the force of
will"
was interested at once, for my readings
had been to some extent in the direction indi-
Gated, and had long been satisfied that there
we're more things in heaven and earth than
were dreampt Of in philosophy.
expressed, therefore, my willingness to
do Miss Girard service, if possible, in this,
as in any other direction, to the very best of
my professional or private capacity.
81 expected as much" was her simple res
ponse, "for although we have never met, my
father had seen you, and had occasion to
speak of you in terms which I need not re-
call, since this is not an hour for bandying
compliments between US.
"Let me explain as nearly as I can, and
as briefly as must, the nature Of the facts
of which | have spoken.
my father, as you, perhaps, are aware, has
been dead a year and half. l use the word
in its convenient sense, for to me he was nev-
er more alive than now. He died in that
room, the door of which you see yonder, and
since he was carried out, it has been opened
to the light of day but once. That once was
when I sought to account for the singular
phenomena am about to describe.
my fathers last illness, as you may
not know, resulted from accident. He was
thrown from the carriage while riding in the
park at Fairmount, and brought home insen'
sible. He never spoke consciously but once
afterward, and then incoherently, with some
apparent weight upon his mind, which con-
strued to be the unexpressed wish for some de-
sired explanation.
"After his death, the house was shut up for
few weeks, and I went on prolonged visit
ing tour; but 60 where I would, or do what
I would. the thought of that unexpressed wish
of my father haunted me, and I felt contin-
ually increasing desire to return. Finally,
without excuse or warning, l came suddenly
back, sent for our old visitors and attempted
to live here again as I had done in my faith
er's life time. But in vain.
cit was not alone the absence of my pa
rent. had become accustomed to Loneliness
and selfreliance, from the death of my moth
or, occurring some years before, and my faith
or had been a taciturn man, spending very
little of his time at home; but it was some
thing deeper. Looking back to it now, after
the lapse of 80 long period, wonder that
it has affected me so little. But my mind,
like my body, I fear, has never given me a
reputation for anything but strength"
I made a gesture of entering protest
here; but with her habitual SIRENS smile, she
gave me no opportunity, and continued her
narrative.
"The third night after my return home I
had retired to rest; had fallen slowly asleep,
until past twelve, when I suddenly awoke and
set upright, with the sensation one experiences
on finding some person long absent unexpect-
edly near.
ut was moonlight night outside, and
some rays stole through the halfdrawn cur
tains, weaving strange, grotesque images upon
the floor. There was light enough for me to
see, had there been any human form present
beside myself but there was none.
"And yet with that sensation Of a personal
presence near me, which 1 strove to negative
by glancing about me, 1 felt a hand laid in
soothing tenderness upon my forehead, aud