Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1883-01-26
resented itself to me. had nv sketch.

presented itself to me. I had nv sketch
book in my portmanteau up stairs. and,
by fortunate chance, fixed in it was the
print in question, with TIE two pencil
sketches. l instantly brought them down
and showed them to Maria Lutte. She
looked at them for moment, turned her
eyes full upon me, and said slowly and
with something of fear in her manner,
"Where did you get these?" Then quicker
and without waiting for my answer, LET
me take them instantly to papa.' She
was away ten minutes or more when she
returned her father came with her. He
did not wait for salutations, but said, in
tone and manner I had not observed in
him before. Il was right all the time; it
was you that saw with her, and these
sketches are from her and from no one
else. I value them more than all my pos
sessions, except this dear child" The
daughter also assured me that the print
had brought to the house must be the
one taken from the book about three weeks
before, in proof of which she pointed out
to me the gum marks at the back, which
exactly corresponded with those left on
the blank leaf. From the moment the IA
Their saw these sketches his mental health
returned.
1 was not allowed to touch either of the
pencil drawings in the sketch-book, as it
was feared I might iDjure them, but an
oil picture from them was commenced im-
mediately, the father sitting by me hour
after hour directing my touches, convers-
ing nationally, and indeed cheerfully while
he did so. He avoided direct reference to
bis decisions. but from time to time led
tie conversation to the manner in which
had originally obtained the sketches. The
doctor came in the evening and, after ex-
tOlliDg the particular treatment be had
adopted, pronounced his patient decided
ly, and he believed permanently improved.
The next day being Sunday, we went to
church; the father for the first time since
his bereavement. During walk which
he took with me after luncheon he again
approached the subject of the sketches, |
and after some seeming hesitation as to |
whether he should confide in me or not, be |
said: "Your writing to me by name from |
the inn at Lichfeld was one of those in. |
applicable circumstances that suppose it |
is impossible to clear up. 1 knew you.
however, directly saw you; when those |
about me considered my intellect was dis |
ordered, and that spoke incoherently. it |
was only because l saw things that they |
did not. Since her death know with a |
certainty, that nothing will ever disturb.
that at different times l have been in the |
actual and visible presence of my daught- |
er that is gone-oftener. indeed, just after |
her death than latterly. Of the many |
times that this has occurred, l distinctly |
remember Cnce seeing her in a railway |
carriage speaking to person sitting OPP |
posite; who that person was l could not |
ascertain. as my position seemed to be i'm
mediately behind him. l next saw her at |
dinner BILE, with others, and among |
those others, unquestionably, I saw your
self ! afterwards learned that at that |
time l was considered to be in one of my |
longest and most violent paroxysms, as l
continued to see her speaking to you. in
the midst of a large assembly, for some
hours. Again saw her standing by your
side, while you were engaged either i'll
writing or drawing. saw her once again
but the next time l saw your
self was in the inn parlor."
The picture was proceeded with the
next day, and on the day after the face
was completed, ana / afterwards brought
it with me to London to finish.
I have often seen MIR. L. since that pc
Rod: his health is perfectly reestablished
and his manner and conversation are al
cheerful As can be expected within few
years of SO great bereavement.
The portrait now hangs in his bedroom
with the print and the two sketches by
the side, and written beneath IS: &c. L.,
18th September, 1858, aged twenty-five.