The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1885-01-08

the last NOTuS HcdIu Ou ihO suDJCCt-
'Oughtn't l to know the pretty face ]
saw most every day. week in and week
out, to say nothing of sitting looking at
her all church time every Sunday, be-
cause she was such picture of lady?
Who should know her, if not me, when
it was me helped to lay her in her
coffin at the last? All, deary me! and
she looked as white and IS sweet as
lily, poor lamb.
There was nothing more to be SAID
after that, so put an end to the con-
versation, and we parted with mutuai
expressions OF esteem.
Il spent week at Hampstead. doing
nothing but looking at this likeness and
bordering over all these strange circum-
stances, till worked myself into i
mental condition impossible to describe
1t flashed upon me suddenly one even
inc, while was looking at my picture,
that if this went on should 90 mad.
This idea was as new as it was I'M
pleasant and its effects were electric.
Within forty eight hours L was journey
inc down to Derbyshire. having ac-
cepted an invitation from some very
pleasant and matter-Of-fact people.
| went down resolved to forget my
Bringley experience rs entirely as pos
Sible. and not even TO look at the pOr-
trait during my visit. had not the
strength of mind to leave it behind me.
Il suppose it was a natural result OF
that queerly spent week, and OF the hur-
~ of my final preparations, that ]
reached Mellor Hall with terrible
headache - one of those malignant
headaches which reduce You to a state
when you can't speak to any one with
out hating him, or look at anything
without cursing it-when sitting seems
worse than standing, lying down worse
than either; when, above all things,
you are impelled to fly from the face OF
man. l couldn't go down to dinner,
and | spent my evening in a violent
struggle against my desire to divert my
self in Il way l had forsworn; that is, by
weaving fools fancieS round that little
head of hers as Browning has it.
Il had been lying down. and / don't
know what time it was when thought
| would try the effect of the night air. l
threw the window open, and leaning
nv elbows on the ledge looked out. 1t
was perfect August night. The great
yellow moon hung in a cloudle5s sky.
Before me lay the beautiful garden.
Beyond it stretched rock and wood and
water, and the picture was closed in all
round BY gray Undulating hills. dotted
here and there with gray, desOlatc-
looking farms and cottages. l don't
think [ ever saw such ivory moon
light"
Members of the Psychical Society,""
I put in, fought not 10 sit in the moon
light; it is thought to have special
bearing on their complaint"
DO you reserve your criticisms OF
that society till I've done my story. Mrs.
Barry will be back directly"
Yes" 1 answered; lit would be rs
well to get the story done before she
comes in. Perhaps she doesn't take Is
much interest Us do in your reminiS-
cenceS of old fiames-even spirit ones.
Well" he went on, las | was telling
YOU. the moon was lighting up every
stick and stone in the garden. Every
leaf was distinct-more distinct than in
daylight. | almost thought | could
count the petals of the flowers. Then |
turned nv face upward to the 'plainness
and clearness without shadow of stain.
THE beauty of the night was so SUI
preme, so vast. that it carried one quite
out of ones miserable little self. | had
forgotten myself and my own troubles,
when | turned my eyes earthward again
and saw her. She was standing there
in the very middle of the lawn, with
clasped hands and face upturned. The
full splendor of the moonlight fell on
the crisp gold threads of her hair. She
was dressed in some sort of white
diaphanouS drapery. And all these de-
tails saw rs distinctly is | had seen
the upturned faces of the roses"
.Why. of course you did" L said;
''what else did YOU expect?:"
well, it may seem very remarkable
20 q person who is not 4 member of the
5. 2. r.. but il was not in the least
what did expect, and its effect was
almost TO stop my hearts beating. The
moonlight and the garden and the
flowers and that white figure seemed to
swim round. l caught at the window
frame with one hand and covered my
ewes with the other. When things
seemed to steady themselves again the
vision was gone Nor did it return
again that night"
Have YOU been taken much that way
since?" | asked, rather derisiyely.
"YeS-pretty frequently, " said Barry,
with queer smile, las You'll presently
see" The next appearance was as fol-
lows:
when | entered the breakfast-room
next morning my spirit love was there.
She had on a blue cotton gown, and was
chatting cheerfully TO my hostess, who
at once introduced me to her.
Miss Lasaller
You may guess l held on to the table
for minute or two after that introduce
ton
How grossly materialisticr' said.
rather piqued at not having foreseen this
denouement.
Yes" ne answered. The story
rather more in Your line now, isn't ii?
OF course l had to wait till my ac1uaint-
ance with Miss Lasalle and her father
rpened considerable before | could get
anv explanation of that mysterious
photograph. However. l got on very
we'll with them, and before long
learned that Mrs. Suggidge's story was
correct in all particulars save one"
Mrs LaSallc's child had been n girl,
not a boy. and this girl. grown woman.
had driven from some distance to visit
her mothers grave on the day when |
photographed it. She had been .kneel-
ING for some time behind the cross, and
being reused from her prayer or revere
b. hearing my movements, she looked
over tie arm. she saw my camera.
! - ]. y