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diff --git a/old/ldgts10.txt b/old/ldgts10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1de3978 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/ldgts10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4871 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Ludington's Sister, by Edward Bellamy +#2 in our series by Edward Bellamy + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Miss Ludington's Sister + +Author: Edward Bellamy + +Release Date: November, 2004 [EBook #6903] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on February 10, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS LUDINGTON'S SISTER *** + + + + +Text prepared by Malcolm Farmer. + + + + + +MISS LUDINGTON'S SISTER + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +The happiness of some lives is distributed pretty evenly over the whole +stretch from the cradle to the grave, while that of others comes all at +once, glorifying some particular epoch and leaving the rest in shadow. +During one, five, or ten blithe years, as the case may be, all the +springs of life send up sweet waters; joy is in the very air we breathe; +happiness seems our native element. During this period we know what is +the zest of living, as compared with the mere endurance of existence, +which is, perhaps, the most we have attained to before or since. With men +this culminating epoch comes often in manhood, or even at maturity, +especially with men of arduous and successful careers. But with women it +comes most frequently perhaps in girlhood and young womanhood. +Particularly is this wont to be the fact with women who do not marry, and +with whom, as the years glide on, life becomes lonelier and its interests +fewer. + +By the time Miss Ida Ludington was twenty-five years old she recognised +that she had done with happiness, and that the pale pleasures of memory +were all which remained to her. + +It was not so much the mere fact that her youth was past, saddening +though that might be, which had so embittered her life, but the +peculiarly cruel manner in which it had been taken from her. + +The Ludingtons were one of the old families of Hilton, a little farming +village among the hills of Massachusetts. They were not rich, but were +well-to-do, lived in the largest house in the place, and were regarded +somewhat as local magnates. Miss Ludington's childhood had been an +exceptionally happy one, and as a girl she had been the belle of the +village. Her beauty, together, with her social position and amiability of +disposition, made her the idol of the young men, recognised leader of the +girls, and the animating and central figure in the social life of the +place. + +She was about twenty years old, at the height of her beauty and in the +full tide of youthful enjoyment, when she fell ill of a dreadful disease, +and for a long time lay between life and death. Or, to state the ease +more accurately, the girl did die--it was a sad and faded woman who rose +from that bed of sickness. + +The ravages of disease had not left a vestige of her beauty--it was +hopelessly gone. The luxuriant, shining hair had fallen out and been +replaced by a scanty growth of washed-out hue; the lips, but yesterday so +full, and red, and tempting, were thin, and drawn, and colourless, and +the rose-leaf complexion had given place to an aspect so cruelly pitted, +seamed, and scarred that even friends did not recognize her. + +The fading of youth is always a melancholy experience with women; but in +most cases the process is so gradual as to temper the poignancy of +regret, and perhaps often to prevent its being experienced at all except +as a vague sentiment. + +But in Miss Ludington's case the transition had been piteously sharp and +abrupt. + +With others, ere youth is fully past its charms are well-nigh forgotten +in the engrossments of later years; but with her there had been nothing +to temper the bitterness of her loss. + +During the long period of invalidism which followed her sickness her only +solace was a miniature of herself, at the age of seventeen, painted on +ivory, the daguerrotype process not having come into use at this time, +which was toward the close of the third decade of the present century. + +Over this picture she brooded hours together when no one was near, +studying the bonny, gladsome face through blinding tears, and sometimes +murmuring incoherent words of tenderness. + +Her young friends occasionally came to sit with her, by way of enlivening +the weary hours of an invalid's day. At such times she would listen with +patient indifference while they sought to interest her with current local +gossip, and as soon as possible would turn the conversation back to the +old happy days before her sickness. On this topic she was never weary of +talking, but it was impossible to induce her to take any interest in the +present. + +She had caused a locket to be made, to contain the ivory miniature of +herself as a girl, and always wore it on her bosom. + +In no way could her visitors give her more pleasure than by asking to see +this picture, and expressing their admiration of it. Then her poor, +disfigured face would look actually happy, and she would exclaim, "Was +she not beautiful?" "I do not think it flattered her, do you?" and with +other similar expressions indicate her sympathy with the admiration +expressed. The absence of anything like self-consciousness in the delight +she took in these tributes to the charms of her girlish self was pathetic +in its completeness. It was indeed not as herself, but as another, that +she thought of this fair girl, who had vanished from the earth, leaving a +picture as her sole memento. How, indeed, could it be otherwise when she +looked from the picture to the looking-glass, and contrasted the images? +She mourned for her girlish self, which had been so cruelly effaced from +the world of life, as for a person, near and precious to her beyond the +power of words to express, who had died. + +From the time that she had first risen from the sick-bed, where she had +suffered so sad a transformation, nothing could induce her to put on the +brightly coloured gowns, beribboned, and ruffled, and gaily trimmed, +which she had worn as a girl; and as soon as she was able she carefully +folded and put them away in lavender, like relics of the dead. For +herself, she dressed henceforth in drab or black. + +For three or four years she remained more or less an invalid. At the end +of that time she regained a fair measure of health, although she seemed +not likely ever to be strong. + +In the meanwhile her school-mates and friends had pretty much all +married, or been given in marriage. She was a stranger to the new set of +young people which had come on the stage since her day, while her former +companions lived in a world of new interests, with which she had nothing +in common. Society, in reorganizing itself, had left her on the outside. +The present had moved on, leaving her behind with the past. She asked +nothing better. If she was nothing to the present, the present was still +less to her. As to society, her sensitiveness to the unpleasant +impression made by her personal appearance rendered social gatherings +distasteful to her, and she wore a heavy veil when she went to church. + +She was an only child. Her mother had long been dead, and when about this +time her father died she was left without near kin. With no ties of +contemporary interest to hold her to the present she fell more and more +under the influence of the habit of retrospection. + +The only brightness of colour which life could ever have for her lay +behind in the girlhood which had ended but yesterday, and was yet so +completely ended. She found her only happiness in the recollections of +that period which she retained. These were the only goods she prized, and +it was the grief of her life that, while she had strong boxes for her +money, and locks and keys for her silver and her linen, there was no +device whereby she could protect her store of memories from the slow +wasting of forgetfulness. + +She lived with a servant quite alone in the old Ludington homestead, +which it was her absorbing care to keep in precisely the same condition, +even to the arrangement of the furniture, in which it had always been. + +If she could have insured the same permanence in the village of Hilton, +outside the homestead enclosure, she would have been spared the cause of +her keenest unhappiness. For the hand of change was making havoc with the +village: the railroad had come, shops had been built, and stores and new +houses were going up on every side, and the beautiful hamlet, with its +score or two of old-fashioned dwellings, which had been the scene of her +girlhood, was in a fair way to be transformed into a vile manufacturing +village. + +Miss Ludington, to whom every stick and stone of the place was dear, +could not walk abroad without missing some ancient landmark removed since +she had passed that way before, perhaps a tree felled, some meadow, that +had been a playground of her childhood, dug up for building-lots, or a +row of brick tenements going up on the site of a sacred grove. + +Her neighbours generally had succumbed to the rage for improvement, as +they called it. There was a general remodelling and modernizing of +houses, and, where nothing more expensive could be afforded, the +paint-brush wrought its cheap metamorphosis. "You wouldn't know Hilton +was the same place," was the complacent verdict of her neighbours, to +which Miss Ludington sorrowfully assented. + +It would be hard to describe her impotent wrath, her sense of outrage and +irreparable loss, as one by one these changes effaced some souvenir of +her early life. The past was once dead already; they were killing it a +second time. Her feelings at length became so intolerable that she kept +her house, pretty much ceasing to walk abroad. + +At this period, when she was between thirty and thirty-five years old, a +distant relative left her a large fortune. She had been well-to-do +before, but now she was very rich. As her expenses had never exceeded a +few hundred dollars a year, which had procured her everything she needed, +it would be hard to imagine a person with less apparent use for a great +deal of money. And yet no young rake, in the heyday of youth and the riot +of hot blood, could have been more overjoyed at the falling to him of a +fortune than was this sad-faced old maid. She became smiling and +animated. She no longer kept at home, but walked abroad. Her step was +quick and strong; she looked on at the tree-choppers, the builders, and +the painters, at their nefarious work, no more in helpless grief and +indignation, but with an unmistakable expression of triumph. + +Presently surveyors appeared in the village, taking exact and careful +measurements of the single broad and grassy street which formed the older +part of it. Miss Ludington was closeted with a builder, and engrossed +with estimates. The next year she left Hilton to the mercy of the +vandals, and never returned. + +But it was to another Hilton that she went. + +The fortune she had inherited had enabled her to carry out a design which +had been a day-dream with her ever since the transformation of the +village had begun. Among the pieces of property left her was a large farm +on Long Island several miles out of the city of Brooklyn. Here she had +rebuilt the Hilton of her girlhood, in facsimile, with every change +restored, every landmark replaced. In the midst of this silent village +she had built for her residence an exact duplicate of the Ludington +homestead, situated in respect to the rest of the village precisely as +the original was situated in the real Hilton. + +The astonishment of the surveyors and builders at the character of the +work required of them was probably great, and their bills certainly were, +though Miss Ludington would not have grudged the money had they been ten +times greater. However, seeing that the part of the village duplicated +consisted of but one broad maple-planted street, with not over thirty +houses, mostly a story and a half, and that none of the buildings, except +the school-house, the little meeting-house, and the homestead, were +finished inside, the outlay was not greater than an elaborate plan of +landscape gardening would have involved. + +The furniture and fittings of the Massachusetts homestead, to the least +detail, had been used to fit up its Long Island duplicate, and when all +was complete and Miss Ludington had settled down to housekeeping, she +felt more at home than in ten years past. + +True, the village which she had restored was empty; but it was not more +empty than the other Hilton had been to her these many years, since her +old schoolmates had been metamorphosed into staid fathers and mothers. +These respectable persons were not the schoolmates and friends of her +girlhood, and with no hard feelings toward them, she had still rather +resented seeing them about, as tending to blur her recollections of their +former selves, in whom alone she was interested. + +That her new Long Island neighbours considered her mildly insane was to +her the least of all concerns. The only neighbours she cared about were +the shadowy forms which peopled the village she had rescued from +oblivion, whose faces she fancied smiling gratefully at her from the +windows of the homes she had restored to them. + +For she had a notion that the spirits of her old neighbours, long dead, +had found out this resurrected Hilton, and were grateful for the +opportunity to revisit the unaltered scenes of their passion. If she had +grieved over the removal of the old landmarks and the change in the +appearance of the village, how much more hopelessly must they have +grieved if indeed the dead revisit earth! The living, if their homes are +broken up, can make them new ones, which, after a fashion, will serve the +purpose; but the dead cannot. They are thenceforth homeless and desolate. + +No sense of having benefited living persons would have afforded Miss +Ludington the pleasure she took in feeling that, by rebuilding ancient +Hilton, she had restored homes to these homeless ones. + +But of all this fabric of the past which she had resurrected, the central +figure was the school-girl Ida Ludington. The restored village was the +mausoleum of her youth. + +Over the great old-fashioned fireplace, in the sitting-room of the +homestead which she had rebuilt in the midst of the village, she had hung +a portrait in oil, by the first portrait-painter then in the country. It +was an enlarged copy of the little likeness on ivory which had formerly +been so great a solace to her. + +The portrait was executed with extremely life-like effect, and was fondly +believed by Miss Ludington to be a more accurate likeness in some +particulars than the ivory picture itself. + +It represented a very beautiful girl of seventeen or eighteen, although +already possessing the ripened charms of a woman. She was dressed in +white, with a low bodice, her luxuriant golden hair, of a rare sheen and +fineness, falling upon beautifully moulded shoulders. The complexion was +of a purity that needed the faint tinge of pink in the cheeks to relieve +it of a suspicion of pallor. The eyes were of the deepest, tenderest +violet, full of the light of youth, and the lips were smiling. + +It was, indeed, no wonder that Miss Ludington had mourned the vanishing +from earth of this delectable maiden with exceeding bitterness, or that +her heart yet yearned after her with an aching tenderness across the gulf +of years. + +How bright, how vivid, how glowing had been the life of that beautiful +girl! How real as compared with her own faint and faded personality, +which, indeed, had shone these many years only by the light reflected +from that young face! And yet that life, in its strength and brightness, +had vanished like an exhalation, and its elements might no more be +recombined than the hues of yesterday's dawn. + +Miss Ludington had hung the portraits of her father and mother with +immortelles, but the frame of the girl's picture she had wound with +deepest crape. + +Her father and mother she did not mourn as one without hope, believing +that she should see them some day in another world; but from the death of +change which the girl had died no Messiah had ever promised any +resurrection. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + +The solitude in which Miss Ludington lived had become, through habit, so +endeared to her that when, a few years after she had been settled in her +ghostly village, a cousin died in poverty, bequeathing to her with his +last breath a motherless infant boy, it was with great reluctance that +she accepted the charge. She would have willingly assumed the support of +the child, but if it had been possible would have greatly preferred +providing for him elsewhere to bringing him home with her. This, however, +was impracticable, and so there came to be a baby in the old maid's +house. + +Little Paul De Riemer was two years old when he was brought to live with +Miss Ludington--a beautiful child, with loving ways, and deep, dark, +thoughtful eyes. When he was first taken into the sitting-room, the +picture of the smiling girl over the fireplace instantly attracted his +gaze, and, putting out his arms, he cooed to it. This completed the +conquest of Miss Ludington, whose womanly heart had gone out to the +winsome child at first sight. + +As the boy grew older his first rational questions were about the pretty +lady in the picture, and, he was never so happy as when Miss Ludington +took him upon her knee and told him stories about her for hours together. + +These stories she always related in the third person, for it would only +puzzle and grieve the child to intimate to him that there was anything in +common between the radiant girl he had been taught to call Ida and the +withered woman whom he called Aunty. What, indeed, had they in common but +their name? and it had been so long since any one had called her Ida, +that Miss Ludington scarcely felt that the name belonged to her present +self at all. + +In their daily walks about the village she would tell the little boy +endless stories about incidents which had befallen Ida at this spot or +that. She was never weary of telling, or he of listening to, these tales, +and it was wonderful how the artless sympathy of the child comforted the +lone woman. + +One day, when he was eight years old, finding himself alone in the +sitting-room, the lad, after contemplating Ida's picture for a long time, +piled one chair on another, and climbing upon the structure, put up his +chubby lips to the painted lips of the portrait and kissed them with +right good-will. Just then Miss Ludington came in, and saw what he was +doing. Seizing him in her arms, she cried over him and kissed him till he +was thoroughly frightened. + +A year or two later, on his announcing one day his intention to marry Ida +when he grew up, Miss Ludington explained to him that she was dead. He +was quite overcome with grief at this intelligence, and for a long time +refused to be comforted. + +And so it was, that never straying beyond the confines of the eerie +village, and having no companion but Miss Ludington, the boy fell +scarcely less than she under the influence of the beautiful girl who was +the presiding genius of the place. + +As he grew older, far from losing its charm, Ida's picture laid upon him +a new spell. Her violet eyes lighted his first love-dreams. She became +his ideal of feminine loveliness, drawing to herself, as the sun draws +mist, all the sentiment and dawning passion of the youth. In a word, he +fell in love with her. + +Of course he knew now who she had been. Long before as soon as he was old +enough to understand it, this had been explained to him. But though he +was well aware that neither on earth nor in heaven, nor anywhere in the +universe, did she any more exist, that knowledge was quite without effect +upon the devotion which she had inspired. The matter indeed, presented +itself in a very simple way to his mind. "If I had never seen her +picture," he said one day to Miss Ludington, "I should never have known +that my love was dead, and I should have gone seeking her through all the +world, and wondering what was the reason I could not find her." + +Miss Ludington was over sixty years of age and Paul was twenty-two when +he finished his course at college. She had naturally supposed that, on +going out into the world, mixing with young men and meeting young women, +he would outgrow his romantic fancy concerning Ida; but the event was +very different. As year after year he returned home to spend his +vacations, it was evident that his visionary passion was strengthening +rather than losing its hold upon him. + +But the strangest thing of all was the very peculiar manner in which, +during the last vacation preceding his graduation, he began to allude to +Ida in his conversations with Miss Ludington. It was, indeed, so peculiar +that when, after his return to college, she recalled the impression left +upon her mind, she was constrained to think that she had, somehow, +totally misunderstood him; for he had certainly seemed to talk as if Ida, +instead of being that most utterly, pathetically dead of all dead +things--the past self of a living person--were possibly not dead at all: +as if, in fact she might have a spiritual existence, like that ascribed +to the souls of those other dead whose bodies are laid in the grave. + +Decidedly, she must have misunderstood him. + +Some months later, on one of the last days of June, he graduated. Miss +Ludington. would have attended the graduation exercises but for the fact +that her long seclusion from society made the idea of going away from +home and mingling with strangers intolerable. She had expected him home +the morning after his graduation. When, however, she came downstairs, +expecting to greet him at the breakfast-table, she found instead a letter +from him, which, to her further astonishment, consisted of several +closely written sheets. What could have possessed him to write her this +laborious letter on the very day of his return? + +The letter began by telling her that he had accepted an invitation from a +class-mate, and should not be home for a couple of days. "But this is +only an excuse," he went on; "the true reason that I do not at once +return is that you may have a day or two to think over the contents of +this letter before you see me; for what I have to say will seem very +startling to you at first. I was trying to prepare you for it when I +talked, as you evidently thought, so strangely, about Ida, the last time +I was at home; but you were only mystified, and I was not ready to +explain. A certain timidity held me back. It was so great a matter that I +was afraid to broach it by word of mouth lest I might fail to put it in +just the best way before your mind, and its strangeness might terrify you +before you could be led to consider its reasonableness. But, now that I +am coming home to stay, I should not be able to keep it from you, and it +has seemed to me better to write you in this way, so that you may have +time fully to debate the matter with your own heart before you see me. Do +you remember the last evening that I was at home, my asking you if you +did not sometimes have a sense of Ida's presence? You looked at me as if +you thought I were losing my wits. What did I mean, you asked, by +speaking of her as a living person? But I was not ready to speak, and I +put you off. + +"I am going to answer your question now. I am going to tell you how and +why I believe that she is neither lost nor dead, but a living and +immortal spirit. For this, nothing less than this, is my absolute +assurance, the conviction which I ask you to share. + +"But stop, let us go back. Let us assume nothing. Let us reason it all +out carefully from the beginning. Let me forget that I am her lover. Let +me be stiff; and slow, and formal as a logician, while I prove that my +darling lives for ever. And you, follow me carefully, to see if I slip. +Forget what ineffable thing she is to you; forget what it is to you that +she lives. Do not let your eyes fill; do not let your brain swim. It +would be madness to believe it if it is not true. Listen, then:-- +You know that men speak of human beings, taken singly, as individuals. +It is taken for granted in the common speech that the individual is the +unit of humanity, not to be subdivided. That is, indeed, what the +etymology of the word means. Nevertheless, the slightest reflection will +cause any one to see that this assumption is a most mistaken one. The +individual is no more the unit of humanity than is the tribe or family; +but, like them, is a collective noun, and stands for a number of distinct +persons, related one to another in a particular way, and having certain +features of resemblance. The persons composing a family are related both +collaterally and by succession or descent, while the persons composing an +individual are related by succession only. They are called infancy, +childhood, youth, manhood, maturity, age, and dotage. + +"These persons are very unlike one another. Striking physical, mental, +and moral differences exist between them. Infancy and childhood are +incomprehensible to manhood, and manhood not less so to them. The youth +looks forward with disgust to the old age which is to follow him, and the +old man has far more in common with other old men, his own +contemporaries, than with the youth who preceded him. How frequently do +we see the youth vicious and depraved, and the man who follows him +upright and virtuous, hating iniquity! How often, on the other hand, is a +pure and innocent girlhood succeeded by a dissolute and shameless +womanhood! In many cases age looks back upon youth with inexpressible +longing and tenderness, and quite as often with shame and remorse; but in +all cases with the same consciousness of profound contrast, and of a +great gulf fixed between. + +"If the series of persons which constitutes an individual could by any +magic be brought together and these persons confronted with one another, +in how many cases would the result be mutual misunderstanding, disgust, +and even animosity? Suppose, for instance, that Saul, the persecutor of +the disciples of Jesus, who held the garments of them that stoned +Stephen, should be confronted with his later self, Paul the apostle, +would there not be reason to anticipate a stormy interview? For there is +no more ground to suppose that Saul would be converted to Paul's view +than the reverse. Each was fully persuaded in his own mind as to what he +did. + +"But for the fact that each one of the persons who together constitute an +individual is well off the field before his successor comes upon it, we +should not infrequently see the man collaring his own youth, handing him +over to the authorities, and prefering charges against him as a rascally +fellow. + +"Not by any means are the successive persons of an individual always thus +out of harmony with one another. In many, perhaps in a majority, of +cases, the same general principles and ideals are recognized by the man +which were adopted by the boy, and as much sympathy exists between them +as is possible in view of the different aspects which the world +necessarily presents to youth and age. In such cases, no doubt, could the +series of persons constituting the individual be brought together, a +scene of inexpressibly tender and intimate communion would ensue. + +"But, though no magic may bring back our past selves to earth, may we not +hope to meet them hereafter in some other world? Nay, must we not expect +so to meet them if we believe in the immortality of human souls? For if +our past selves, who were dead before we were alive, had no souls, then +why suppose our present selves have any? Childhood, youth, and manhood +are the sweetest, the fairest, the noblest, the strongest of the persons +who together constitute an individual. Are they soulless? Do they go down +in darkness to oblivion while immortality is reserved for the withered +soul of age? If we must believe that there is but one soul to all the +persons of an individual it would be easier to believe that it belongs to +youth or manhood, and that age is soulless. For if youth, strong-winged +and ardent, full of fire and power, perish, leaving nothing behind save a +few traces in the memory, how shall the flickering spirit of age have +strength to survive the blast of death? + +"The individual, in its career of seventy years, has not one body, but +many, each wholly new. It is a commonplace of physiology that there is +not a particle in the body to-day that was in it a few years ago. Shall +we say that none of these bodies has a soul except the last, merely +because the last decays more suddenly than the others? + +"Or is it maintained that, although there is such utter diversity--physical, +mental, moral--between infancy and manhood, youth and age, nevertheless, +there is a certain essence common to them all, and persisting unchanged +through them all, and that this is the soul of the individual? But such +an essence as should be the same in the babe and the man, the youth and +the dotard, could be nothing more than a colourless abstraction, without +distinctive qualities of any kind--a mere principle of life like the +fabled jelly protoplasm. Such a fancy reduces the hope of immortality to +an absurdity. + +"No! no! It is not any such grotesque or fragmentary immortality that God +has given us. The Creator does not administer the universe on so +niggardly a plan. Either there is no immortality for us which is +intelligible or satisfying, or childhood, youth, manhood, age, and all +the other persons who make up an individual, live for ever, and one day +will meet and be together in God's eternal present; and when the several +souls of an individual are in harmony no doubt He will perfect their +felicity by joining them with a tie that shall be incomparably more +tender and intimate than any earthly union ever dreamed of, constituting +a life one yet manifold--a harp of many strings, not struck successively +as here on earth, but blending in rich accord. + +"And now I beg you not to suppose that what I have tried to demonstrate +is any hasty or ill-considered fancy. It was, indeed, at first but a +dream with which the eyes of my sweet mistress inspired me, but from a +dream it has grown into a belief, and in these last months into a +conviction which I am sure nothing can shake. If you can share it the +long mourning of your life will be at an end. Per my own part I could +never return to the old way of thinking without relapsing into +unutterable despair. To do so would be virtually to give up faith in any +immortality at all worth speaking of. For it is the long procession of +our past selves, each with its own peculiar charm and incommunicable +quality, slipping away from us as we pass on, and not the last self of +all whom the grave entraps, which constitutes our chief contribution to +mortality. What shall it avail for the grave to give up its handful if +there be no immortality for this great multitude? God would not mock us +thus. He has power not only over the grave, but over the viewless +sepulchre of the past, and not one of the souls to which he has ever +given life will be found wanting on the day when he makes up his jewels." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + +To understand the impression which Paul's letter produced upon Miss +Ludington imagine, in the days before the resurrection of the dead was +preached, with what effect the convincing announcement of that doctrine +would have fallen on the ears of one who had devoted her life to hopeless +regrets over the ashes of a friend. + +And yet at no time have men been wholly without belief in some form of +survival beyond the grave, and such a bereaved woman of antiquity would +merely have received a more clear and positive assurance of what she had +vaguely imagined before. But that there was any resurrection for her +former self--that the bright youth which she had so yearned after and +lamented could anywhere still exist, in a mode however shadowy, Miss +Ludington had never so much as dreamed. + +There might be immortality for all things else; the birds and beasts, and +even the lowest forms of life, might, under some form, in some world, +live again; but no priest had ever promised, nor any poet ever dreamed, +that the title of a man's past selves to a life immortal is as +indefeasible as that of his present self. + +It did not occur to her to doubt, to quibble, or to question, concerning +the grounds of this great hope. From the first moment that she +comprehended the purport of Paul's argument, she had accepted its +conclusion as an indubitable revelation, and only wondered that she had +never thought of it herself, so natural, so inevitable, so +incontrovertible did it seem. + +And as a sunburst in an instant transforms the sad fields of November +into a bright and cheerful landscape, so did this revelation suddenly +illumine her sombre life. + +All day she went about the house and the village like one in a dream, +smiling and weeping, and reading Paul's letter over and over, through +eyes swimming with a joy unutterable. + +In the afternoon, with tender, tremulous fingers, she removed the crape +from the frame of Ida's picture, which it had draped for so many years. +As she was performing this symbolic act, it seemed to the old lady that +the fair young face smiled upon her. "Forgive me!" she murmured. "How +could I have ever thought you dead!" + +It was not till evening that her servants reminded her that she had not +eaten that day, and induced her to take food. + +The next afternoon Paul arrived. He had not been without very serious +doubt as to the manner in which his argument for the immortality of past +selves might impress Miss Ludington. A mild melancholy such as hers +sometimes becomes sweet by long indulgence. She might not welcome +opinions which revolutionized the fixed ideas of her life, even though +they should promise a more cheerful philosophy. If she did not accept his +belief, but found it chimerical and visionary, the effect of its +announcement upon her mind could only be unpleasantly disturbing. It was, +therefore, not without some anxiety that he approached the house. + +But his first glimpse of her, as she stood in the door awaiting him, +dissipated his apprehensions. She wore a smiling face, and the deep black +in which she always dressed was set off, for the first time since his +knowledge of her, with a bit or two of bright colour. + +She said not a word, but, taking him by the hand, led him into the +sitting-room. + +That morning she had sent into Brooklyn for immortelles, and had spent +the day in festooning them about Ida's picture, so that now the sweet +girlish face seemed smiling upon them out of a veritable bower of the +white flowers of immortality. + +In the days that followed, Miss Ludington seemed a changed woman, such +blitheness did the new faith she had found bring into her life. The +conviction that the past was deathless, and her bright girlhood immortal, +took all the melancholy out of retrospection. Nay, more than that, it +turned retrospection into anticipation. She no longer viewed her +youth-time through the pensive haze of memory, but the rosy mist of hope. +She should see it again, for was it not safe with God? Her pains to guard +the memory of the beautiful past, to preserve it from the second death of +forgetfulness, were now all needless; she could trust it with God, to be +restored to her in his eternal present, its lustre undimmed, and no trait +missing. + +The laying aside of her mourning garb was but one indication of the +change that had come over her. + +The whole household, from scullion to coachman, caught the inspiration of +her brighter mood. The servants laughed aloud about the house. The +children of the gardener, ever before banished to other parts of the +grounds, played unrebuked in the sacred street of the silent village. + +As for Paul, since the revelation had come to him that the lady of his +love was no mere dream of a life for ever vanished, but was herself alive +for evermore, and that he should one day meet her, his love had assumed a +colour and a reality it had never possessed before. To him this meant all +it would have meant to the lover of a material maiden, to be admitted to +her immediate society. + +The sense of her presence in the village imparted to the very air a fine +quality of intoxication. The place was her shrine, and he lived in it as +in a sanctuary. + +It was not as if he should have to wait many years, till death, before he +should see her. As soon as he gave place to the later self which was to +succeed him, he should be with her. Already his boyish self had no doubt +greeted her, and she had taken in her arms the baby Paul who had held his +little arms out to her picture twenty years before. + +To be in love with the spirit of a girl, however beautiful she might have +been when on earth, would doubtless seem to most young men a very +chimerical sort of passion; but Paul, on the other hand, looked upon the +species of attraction which they called love as scarcely more than a +gross appetite. During his absence from home he had seen no woman's face +that for a moment rivalled Ida's portrait. Shy and fastidious, he had +found no pleasure in ladies' society, and had listened to his classmates' +talk of flirtations and conquests with secret contempt. What did they +know of love? What had their coarse and sensuous ideas in common with the +rare and delicate passion to which his heart was dedicated--a love asking +and hoping for no reward, but sufficient to itself? + +He had spent but a few weeks at home when Miss Ludington began to talk +quite seriously to him about studying for some profession. He was rather +surprised at this, for he had supposed she would be glad to have him at +home, for a while at lease, now that he had done with college. To Paul, +at this time, the idea of any pursuit which would take him away from the +village was extremely distasteful, and he had no difficulty in finding +excuses enough for procrastinating a step for which, indeed, no sort of +urgency could be pretended. + +He was to be Miss Ludington's heir, and any profession which he might +adopt would be purely ornamental at most. + +Finding that he showed no disposition to consider a profession she +dropped that point and proposed that he should take six months of foreign +travel, as a sort of rounding off of his college course. To the +advantages of this project he was, however, equally insensible. When she +urged it on him, he said, "Why, aunty, one would say you were anxious to +get rid of me. Don't we get on well together? Have you taken a dislike to +me? I'm sure I'm very comfortable here. I don't want to do anything +different, or to go off anywhere. Why won't you let me stay with you?" + +And so she had to let the matter drop. + +The truth was she had become anxious to get him away; but it was on his +account, not hers. + +In putting his room to rights one day since his return from college she +had come upon a scrap of paper containing some verses addressed "To Ida." +Paul had rather a pretty knack at turning rhymes, and the tears came to +Miss Ludington's eyes as she read these lines. They were an attempt at a +love sonnet, throbbing with passion, and yet so mystical in some of the +allusions that nothing but her knowledge of Paul's devotion to Ida would +have given her a clue to his meaning. She was filled with apprehension as +she considered the effect which this infatuation, if it should continue +to gain strength, might have upon one of Paul's dreamy temperament and +excessive ideality. That she had devoted her own lonely and useless life +to the cult of the past did not greatly matter, although in the light of +her present happier faith she saw and regretted her mistake; but as for +permitting Paul's life to be overshadowed by the same influence she could +not consent to it. Something must be done to get him away from home, or +at least to divert the current of his thought. The failure of her efforts +to induce him to consider any scheme that involved his leaving the +village threw her into a state of great uneasiness. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + +At about this time it chanced that Miss Ludington drove into Brooklyn one +morning to do some shopping. She was standing at a counter in a large +store, examining goods, when she became aware that a lady standing at +another counter was attentively regarding her. The lady in question was +of about her own height and age, her hair being nearly white, like Miss +Ludington's; but it was evident from the hard lines of her face and her +almost shabby dress that life had by no means gone so easily with her as +with the lady she was regarding so curiously. + +As Miss Ludington looked up she smiled, and, crossing the store, held out +her hand. "Ida Ludington! don't you know me?" Miss Ludington scanned her +face a moment, and then, clasping her outstretched hand, exclaimed, +delightedly, "Why, Sarah Cobb, where did you come from?" and for the next +quarter of an hour the two ladies, quite oblivious of the clerks who were +waiting on them, and the customers who were jostling them, stood absorbed +in the most animated conversation. They had been school-girls together in +Hilton forty-five years before, and, not having met since Miss +Ludington's removal from the village, had naturally a great deal to say. + +"It is thirty years since I have seen any one from Hilton," said Miss +Ludington at last, "and I'm not going to let you escape me. You must come +out with me to my house and stay overnight, and we will talk old times +over. I would not have missed you for anything." + +Sarah Cobb, who had said that her name was now Mrs. Slater, and that she +lived in New York, having removed there from Hilton only a few years +previous, seemed nothing loth to accept her friend's invitation, and it +was arranged that Miss Ludington should send her carriage to meet her at +one of the Brooklyn ferries the day following. Miss Ludington wanted to +send the carriage to Mrs. Slater's residence in New York, but the latter +said that it would be quite as convenient for her to take it at the +ferry. + +After repeated injunctions not to fail of her appointment, Miss Ludington +finally bade her old school-mate good-by and drove home in a state of +pleased expectancy. + +She entertained Paul at the tea-table with an account of her adventure, +and gave him an animated history of the Cobb family in general and Sarah +in particular. She had known Sarah ever since they both could walk, and +during the latter part of their school life they had been inseparable. +The scholars had even christened them "The Twins," because they were so +much together and looked so much alike. Their secrets were always joint +property. + +The next afternoon Miss Ludington went herself in the carriage to fetch +her friend from the ferry. She wanted to be with her and enjoy her +surprise when she first saw the restored Hilton on entering the grounds. +In this respect her anticipations were fully justified. + +The arrangement of the grounds was such that a high board fence protected +the interior from inquisitive passers-by on the highway, and the gate was +set in a corner, so that no considerable part of the enclosure was +visible from it. The gravelled driveway, immediately after entering the +grounds, took a sharp turn round the corner of the gardener's cottage, +which answered for a gatekeeper's lodge. The moment, however, it was out +of sight from the highway it became transformed into a country road, with +wide, grassy borders and footpaths close to the rail fences, while just +ahead lay the silent village, with the small, brown, one-storey, +one-roomed school-house on one side of the green, and the little white +box of a meeting-house, with its gilt weathercock, on the other. + +As this scene burst upon Mrs. Slater's view, her bewilderment was amusing +to witness. Her appearance for a moment was really as if she believed +herself the victim of some sort of magic, and suspected her friend of +being a sorceress. Reassured on this point by Miss Ludington's smiling +explanation, her astonishment gave place to the liveliest interest and +curiosity. The carriage was forthwith stopped and sent around to the +stables, while the two friends went on foot through the village. Every +house, every fence-corner, every lilac-bush or clump of hollyhocks, or +row of currant-bushes in the gardens, suggested some reminiscence, and +the two old ladies were presently laughing and crying at once. At every +dwelling they lingered long, and went on reluctantly with many backward +glances, and all their speech was but a repetition of, "Don't you +remember this?" and "Do you remember that?" + +Mrs Slater, having left Hilton but recently, was able to explain just +what had been removed, replaced, or altered subsequent to Miss +Ludington's flight. The general appearance of the old street, Mrs. Slater +said, remained much the same, despite the changes which had driven Miss +Ludington away; but new streets had been opened up, and the population of +the village had trebled, and become largely foreign. + +In their slow progress they came at last to the school-house. + +The door was ajar, and they entered on tiptoe, like tardy scholars. With +a glance of mutual intelligence they hung their hats, each on the one of +the row of wooden pegs in the entry, which had been hers as a +school-girl, and through the open door entered the silent school-room and +sat down in the self-same seats in which two maidens, so unlike them, yet +linked to them by so strangely tender a tie, had reigned as school-room +belles nearly half a century before. In hushed voices, with moist eyes; +and faces shining with the light of other days, those grey-haired women +talked together of the scenes which that homely old room had witnessed, +the long-silent laughter, and the voices, no more heard on earth, with +which it had once echoed. + +There in the corner stood a great wrought-iron stove, the counterpart of +the one around whose red-hot sides they had shivered, in their short +dresses, on cold winter mornings. On the walls hung the quaint maps of +that period whence they had received geographical impressions, strangely +antiquated now. Along one side of the room ran a black-board, on which +they had been wont to demonstrate their ignorance of algebra and geometry +to the complete satisfaction of the master, while behind them as they sat +was a row of recitation benches, associated with so many a trying ordeal +of school-girl existence. + +"Do you ever think where the girls are in whose seats we are sitting?" +said Mrs. Slater, musingly. "I can remember myself as a girl, more or +less distinctly, and can even be sentimental about her; but it doesn't +seem to me that I am the same person at all; I can't realize it." + +"Of course you can't realize it. Why should you expect to realize what is +not true?" replied Miss Ludington. + +"But I am the same person," responded Mrs. Slater. + +Miss Ludington regarded her with a smile. + +"You have kept your looks remarkably, my dear," she said. "You did not +lose them all at once, as I did; but isn't it a little audacious to try +to pass yourself off as a school-girl of seventeen?" + +Mrs. Slater laughed. "But I once was she, if I am not now," she said. +"You won't deny that." + +"I certainly shall deny it, with your permission," replied Ludington. "I +remember her very well, and she was no more an old woman like you than +you are a young girl like her." + +Mrs. Slater laughed again. "How sharp you are getting, my dear!" she +said. "Since you are so close after me, I shall have to admit that I have +changed slightly in appearance in the forty odd years since we went to +school at Hilton, and I'll admit that my heart is even less like a girl's +than my face; but, though I have changed so much, I am still the same +person, I suppose." + +"Which do you mean?" inquired Miss Ludington. "You say in one breath that +you are a changed person, and that you are the same person. If you are a +changed person you can't be the same, and if you are the same you can't +have changed." + +"I should really like to know what you are driving at," said Mrs. Slater, +calmly. "It seems to me that we are disputing about words." + +"Oh, no, not about words! It is a great deal more than a question of +words," exclaimed Miss Ludington. "You say that we old women and the +girls who sat here forty years and more ago are the same persons, +notwithstanding we are so completely transformed without and within. I +say we are not the same, and thank God, for their sweet sakes, that we +are not. Surely that is not a mere dispute about words." + +"But, if we are not those girls, then what has become of them?" asked +Mrs. Slater. + +"You might better ask what had become of them if you had to seek them in +us; but I will tell you what has become of them, Sarah. It is what will +become of us when we, in our turn, vanish from earth, and the places that +know us now shall know us no more. They are immortal with God, and we +shall one day meet them over there." + +"What a very odd idea!" exclaimed Mrs. Slater, regarding her friend with +astonishment. + +Miss Ludington flushed slightly as she replied, "I don't think it half so +odd, and not nearly so repulsive, as your notion, that we old women are +the mummies of the girls who came before us. It is easier, as well as far +sweeter, for me to believe that our youth is somewhere immortal, than +that it has been withered, shrivelled, desiccated into our old age. Oh, +no, my dear, Paradise is not merely a garden of withered flowers! We +shall find the rose and lily of our life blooming there." + +The hours had slipped away unnoticed as the friends talked together, and +now the lengthening shadows on the school-room floor recalled Miss +Ludington to the present, and to the duties of a hostess. + +As they walked slowly across the green toward the homestead, she told her +friend more fully of this belief in the immortality of past selves which +had so recently come to her, and especially how it had quite taken away +the melancholy with which she had all her life before looked back upon +her youth. Mrs. Slater listened in silence. + +"Where on earth did you get that portrait?" she exclaimed, as Miss +Ludington, after taking her on a tour through the house before tea, +brought her into the sitting-room. + +"Whom does it remind you of?" asked Miss Ludington. + +"I know whom it reminds me of," replied Mrs. Slater; "but how it ever got +here is what puzzles me." + +"I thought you would recognize it," said Miss Ludington, with a pleased +smile. "I suppose you think it odd you should never have seen it, +considering whom it is of?" + +"I do, certainly," replied Mrs. Slater. + +"You see," explained Miss Ludington, "I did not have it painted till +after I left Hilton. You remember that little ivory portrait of myself at +seventeen, which I thought so much of after I lost my looks? Well, this +portrait I had enlarged from that. I have always believed that it was +very like, but you don't know what a reassurance it is to me to have you +recognize it so instantly." + +At the tea-table Paul appeared, and was introduced to Mrs. Slater, who +regarded him with considerable interest. Miss Ludington had informed her +that he was her cousin and heir, and had told her something of his +romantic devotion to the Ida of the picture. Paul, who from Miss +Ludington had learned all there was to be known about the persons and +places of old Hilton, entered with much interest into the conversation of +the ladies on the subject, and after tea accompanied them in their stroll +through that part of the village which they had not inspected before. + +When they returned to the house it was quite dark, and they had lights in +the sitting-room, and refreshments were served. Mrs. Slater's eyes were +frequently drawn toward the picture over the fireplace, and some +reference of hers to the immortelles in which it was framed, turned the +conversation upon the subject that Miss Ludington and she had been +discussing in the school-house. + +Mrs. Slater, whose conversation showed her to be a woman of no great +culture, but unusual force of character and intelligence, expressed +herself as interested in the idea of the immortality of past selves, but +decidedly sceptical. Paul grew eloquent in maintaining its truth and +reasonableness, and, indeed, that it was the only intelligible theory of +immortality that was possible. The idea that the same soul successively +animated infancy, childhood, youth, manhood, and maturity, was, he +argued, but a modification of the curious East Indian dream of +metempsychosis, according to which every soul is supposed to inhabit in +turn innumerable bodies. + +"You almost persuade me," said Mrs. Slater, at last. "But I never heard +of the spirit of anybody's past self appearing to them. If there are such +spirits, why have they never manifested themselves? Nobody every heard of +the spirit of one's past self appearing at a spiritualist seance, for +instance." + +"There is one evidence among others," replied Paul. "that spiritualism is +a fraud. The mediums merely follow the vulgar superstition in the kind of +spirits that they claim to produce." + +"Very likely you are right," said Mrs. Slater. "In fact, I presume you +are quite right. And yet, if I really believed as you do, do you know +what I would do? I would go to some of the spirit mediums over in New +York, of whom the papers are giving such wonderful accounts, and let them +try to materialize for me the spirit of my youth. Probably they couldn't +do it, but possibly they might; and a mighty little sight, Mr. De Riemer, +is more convincing than all the belief in the world. If I could see the +spirit of my youth face to face, I should believe that it had a separate +existence from my own. Otherwise, I don't believe I ever could." + +"But the mediums are a set of humbugs!" exclaimed Paul; and then he +added, "I beg your pardon. Perhaps you are a spiritualist?" + +"You need not beg my pardon," said Mrs. Slater, good-humouredly. "I am +not a spiritualist beyond thinking--and that is only lately--that there +may possibly be something in it, after all. Perhaps there may be, for +example, one part of truth to a hundred parts of fraud. I really don't +believe there is more. Now, as you think the mediums humbugs, and I am +sure most of them are, their failure to accomplish anything would not +shake your faith in your theory, and you would only have lost an evening +and the fee you paid the medium. On the other hand, there is a bare +possibility--mind you, I think it is no more than that--a bare +possibility, say the smallest possible chance, but a chance--that you +would see--her," and Mrs. Slater glanced at the portrait. + +Paul turned pale. + +Miss Ludington, with much agitation, exclaimed, "If I thought there was +any possibility of that, do you suppose, Sarah, that I would consider +time or money?" + +"I don't suppose you would," replied Mrs. Slater. "You would not need to; +but the money is something which I should have to consider, if it were my +case. The best materializing mediums charge pretty well. Mrs. Legrand, +who I believe is considered the leading light just now, charges fifty +dollars for a private seance. Now, fifty dollars, I suppose, does not +seem a large sum to you, but it would be a great deal for a poor woman +like me to spend. And yet if I believed this wonderful thing that you +believe, and I thought there was one chance in a million that this woman +could demonstrate it to me by the assurance of sight, I would live on +crusts from the gutter till I had earned the money to go to her." + +Paul rose from his chair, and, after walking across the floor once or +twice, stood leaning his arm on the mantelpiece. He cleared his throat, +and said: + +"Have you ever seen this Mrs. Legrand yourself? I mean, have you ever +been present at one of her seances?" + +"Not on my own account," replied Mrs. Slater. "It was a mere accident my +chancing to know anything about her. I have a friend, a Mrs. Rhinehart, +who has recently lost her husband, and she got in a way of going to this +Mrs. Legrand's seances to see him, and once she took me with her." + +Miss Ludington and Paul waited a moment, and then, perceiving that she +was not going to say anything more, exclaimed in the same breath, "Did +you see anything?" + +"We saw the figure of a fine-looking man," replied Mrs. Slater. "We could +distinguish his features and expression very plainly, and he seemed to +recognize my friend. She said that it was her husband. Of course I know +nothing about that. I had never seen him alive. It may all have been a +humbug, as I was prepared to believe it; but I assure you it was a +curious business, and I haven't got over the impression which it made on +me, yet. I'm not given to believing in things that claim to be +supernatural, but I will admit that what I saw that night was very +strange. Humbug or no humbug, what she saw seemed to comfort my poor +friend more than all the religions or philosophies ever revealed or +invented could have done. You see, these are so vague, even when we try +to believe them, and that was so plain." + +A silence followed Mrs. Slater's words, during which she sat with an +absent expression of countenance and a faraway look, as if recalling in +fancy the scene which she had described. Miss Ludington's hands trembled +as they lay together in her lap, and she was regarding the picture of the +girl over the fireplace with a fixed and intense gaze, apparently +oblivious of all else. + +Paul broke the silence. "I am going to see this woman," he said, quietly. +"You need not think of going with me, aunty, unless you care to. I will +go alone." + +"Do you think I shall let you go alone?" replied Miss Ludington, in a +voice which she steadied with difficulty. "Am I not as much concerned as +you are, Paul?" + +"Where does this Mrs. Legrand live?" Paul asked Mrs. Slater. + +"I really can't tell you that, Mr. De Riemer," she said. "It was sometime +ago that I attended the seance I spoke of, and all I recall is that it +was somewhere in the lower part of the city, on the east side of the +Broadway, if I am not mistaken." + +"Perhaps you could ascertain her address from the friend of whom you +spoke, if it would not be too much trouble?" suggested Miss Ludington. + +"I might do that," assented Mrs. Slater. "If she still goes to the +seances she would know it. But these mediums don't generally stay long in +one place, and it is quite possible that this Mrs. Legrand may not be in +the city now, But if I can get her address for you I will. And now, my +dear, as I am rather tired after our walk about the village, and probably +you are too, will I go to my room." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + +Mrs. Slater went away the next morning. On the following day but one Miss +Ludington received a letter from her. She told her friend how glad she +was that she had not postponed her visit to her, for if she had set it +for a single day later she could not have made it at all. When she +returned home she found that her husband had received an offer of a +lucrative business position in Cincinnati, contingent on his immediate +removal there. + +They had been in a whirl of packing ever since, and were to take that +night's train for Cincinnati, and whether they ever again came East to +live was very doubtful. In a postscript, written crosswise, she said: + +"I have been in such a rush ever since I came home that I declare I had +clean forgotten till this moment about my promise to hunt up Mrs. +Legrand's address for you. Very likely you have also forgotten by this +time our talk about her, and if so it will not matter. But it vexes me to +fail in a promise, and, if possible, I will snatch a moment before we +leave to send a note to the friend I spoke of, and ask her to look the +woman up for you." + +Instead of being disappointed, Miss Ludington was, on the whole, relieved +to get this letter, and inclined to hope that Mrs. Slater had failed to +find the time to write her friend. In that case this extraordinary +project of visiting a spiritualist medium would quietly fall through, +which was the best thing that could happen. + +The fact is, after sleeping on it, she had seen clearly that such a +proceeding for a person of her position and antecedents would not only be +preposterous, but almost disreputable. She was astonished at herself to +think that her feelings could have been so wrought upon as to cause her +seriously to contemplate such a step. All her life she had held the +conviction, which she supposed to be shared by all persons of culture and +respectability, that spiritualism was a low and immoral superstition, +invariably implying fraud in its professors, and folly in its dupes: +something, in fact, quite below the notice of persons of intelligence or +good taste. As for the idea that this medium could show her the spirit of +her former self, or any other real spirit, it was simply imbecile to +entertain it for a moment. + +If, however, Miss Ludington was relieved by Mrs. Slater's letter, Paul +was keenly disappointed. His prejudice against spiritualism was by no +means so deeply rooted as hers. In a general way he had always believed +mediums to be frauds, and their shows mere shams, but he had been ready +to allow with Mrs. Slater, that, mixed up in all this fraud, there might +be a very little truth. + +His mind admitted a bare possibility that this Mrs. Legrand might be able +to show him the living face and form of his spirit-love. That possibility +once admitted had completely dominated his imagination, and it made +little difference whether it was one chance in a thousand or one in a +million. He was like the victim of the lottery mania, whose absorption in +contemplating the possibility of drawing the prize renders him quite +oblivious of the nine hundred and ninety-nine blank tickets. + +Previous to Mrs. Slater's visit he had been quite content in his devotion +to an ideal mistress, for the reason that any nearer approach to her had +not occurred to him as a possibility. But now the suggestion that he +might see her face to face had so inflamed his imagination that it was +out of the question for him to regain his former serenity. He resolved +that, in case they should fail to hear from Mrs. Slater's friend, he +would set about finding Mrs. Legrand himself, or, failing that, would go +to some other medium. There would be no solace for the fever that had now +got into his blood, until experiment should justify his daring hope, or +prove it baseless. + +However, the third day after Mrs. Slater's letter there came one from her +friend, Mrs. Rhinehart. She said that she had received a note from Mrs. +Slater, who had suddenly been called to Cincinnati, telling that Miss +Ludington desired the address of Mrs. Legrand, with a view to securing a +private seance. She could have sent the address at once, as she had it; +but Mrs. Legrand was so overrun with business that an application to her +by letter, especially from a stranger like Miss Ludington, might not have +any result. And so Mrs. Rhinehart, who had been only too happy to oblige +any friend of Mrs. Slater's, had called personally upon Mrs. Legrand to +arrange for the seance. The medium had told her at first that she was +full of previous engagements for a month ahead, and that it would be +impossible to give Miss Ludington a seance. When, however, Mrs. Rhinehart +told her that Miss Ludington's purpose in asking for the seance was to +test the question whether our past selves have immortal souls distinct +from our present selves, Mrs. Legrand became greatly interested, and at +once said that she would cancel a previous appointment, and give Miss +Ludington a seance the following evening, at her parlours, No.-East Tenth +Street, at nine o'clock. Mrs. Legrand had said that while she had never +heard a belief in the immortality of past selves avowed, there had not +been lacking in her relations with the spirit-world some mysterious +experiences that seemed to confirm it. She should, therefore, look +forward to the issue of the experiment the following evening with nearly +as much confidence, and quite as much interest, as Miss Ludington +herself. Mrs. Rhinehart hoped that the following evening would be +convenient for Miss Ludington. She had assumed the responsibility of +making the engagement positive, as she might have failed in securing a +seance altogether had she waited to communicate with Miss Ludington. +Hoping that "the conditions would be favourable," she remained, &c. &c.. + +When Miss Ludington had read this letter to Paul, she intimated, though +rather faintly, that it was still not too late to withdraw from the +enterprise; they could send Mrs. Legrand her fee, say that it was not +convenient for them to come on the evening fixed, and so let the matter +drop. Paul stared at her in astonishment, and said that, if she did not +feel like going, he would go alone, as he had at first proposed. Upon +this Miss Ludington once more declared that they would go together, and +said nothing further about sacrificing the appointment. + +The fact is she did not really wish to sacrifice it. She was experiencing +a revulsion of feeling; Mrs. Rhinehart's letter had affected her almost +as strongly as Mrs. Slater's talk. The fact that Mrs. Legrand had at once +seen the reasonableness and probability of the belief in the immortality +of past selves made it difficult for Miss Ludington to think of her as a +mere vulgar impostor. The vague hint of the medium's as to strange +experiences with the spirit world, confirmatory of this belief, appealed +to her imagination in a powerful manner. Of what description might the +mysterious monitions be, which, coming to this woman in the dim +between-world where she groped, had prepared her to accept as true, on +its first statement, a belief that to others seemed so hard to credit? +What clutchings of spirit fingers in the dark! What meanings of souls +whom no one recognised! + +The confidence which Mrs. Legrand had expressed that the seance would +prove a success affected Miss Ludington very powerfully. It impressed her +as the judgment of an expert; it compelled her to recognize not only as +possible, but even as probable, that, on the evening of the following +day, she should behold the beautiful girl whom once, so many years +before, she had called herself; for so at best would words express this +wonder. + +With a trembling ecstasy, which in vain she tried to reason down, she +began to prepare herself for the presence of one fresh from the face of +God and the awful precincts of eternity. + +As for Paul, there was no conflict of feeling with prejudice in his case; +he gave himself wholly up to a delirious expectation. How would his +immortal mistress look? How would she move? What would be her +stature--what her bearing? How would she gaze upon him? If not with love +he should die at her feet. If with love how should he bear it? + +Mrs. Rhinehart's letter had been received in the morning, and during the +rest of the day Miss Ludington and Paul seemed quite to forget each other +in their absorption in the thoughts suggested by the approaching event. +They sat abstracted and silent at table, and, on rising, went each their +own way. In the exalted state of their imaginations the enterprise they +had in hand would not bear talking over. + +When she retired to bed Miss Ludington found that sleep was out of the +question. About two o'clock in the morning she heard Paul leave his room +and go downstairs. Putting on dressing-gown and slippers she softly +followed him. There was a light in the sitting-room and the door was +ajar. Stepping noiselessly to it she looked in. + +Paul was standing before, the fireplace, leaning on the mantelpiece, and +looking up into the eyes of the girl above, smiling and talking softly to +her, Miss Ludington entered the room and laid her hand gently on his arm. +Her appearance did not seem to startle him in the least. "Paul, my dear +boy!" she said, "you had better go to bed," + +"It's no use," he said; "I can't sleep, and I had to come down here and +look at her, Think, just think, aunty, that to-morrow we shall see her." + +The young fellow's nervous excitement culminated in a burst of ecstatic +tears, and soon afterwards Miss Ludington induced him to go to bed. + +How much more he loved the girl than even she did! She was filled with +dread as she thought of the effect which a disappointment of the hope he +had given himself up to might produce. And what folly, after all, it was +to expect anything but disappointment! + +The spectacle of Paul's fatuous confidence had taken hers away. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + + +As the drive over to East Tenth Street was a long one, the carriage had +been ordered at seven o'clock, and soon after tea, of which neither Miss +Ludington nor Paul had been able to take a mouthful, they set out. + +"I am afraid we are doing something very wrong and foolish," said Miss +Ludington, feebly, as the carriage rolled down the village street. + +During the drive of nearly two hours not another word was said. + +The carriage at length drew up before the house in Tenth Street. It stood +in a brick block, and there was no sign of the business pursued within, +except a small white card on the door bearing the words, "Mrs. Legrand. +Materializing, Business, and Test Medium. Clairvoyant." + +An old-looking little girl of ten or twelve years of age opened the door. +The child's big black eyes, and long snaky locks falling about a pale +face, gave her an elfish look quite in keeping with the character of the +house. She at once ushered the callers into the front parlour, where a +lady and gentleman were sitting, who proved to be Mrs. Legrand and her +manager and man of business, Dr. Hull. + +The latter was a tall person, of highly respectable and even imposing +appearance, to which a high forehead, a pair of gold-bowed spectacles, +and a long white beard considerably added. He looked like a scholar, and +his speech was that of a man of education. + +Mrs. Legrand was a large woman, with black hair sprinkled with grey and +worn short like a man's. She had a swarthy complexion, and her eyes were +surrounded by noticeably large dark rings, giving an appearance of +wretched ill-health. Her manner was extremely languid, as of a person +suffering from nervous exhaustion. She kept her eyes half shut, and spoke +as if with an effort, + +"Did Mrs. Rhinehart tell you," she said to Miss Ludington, "of the +interest which I feel in your theory, that the souls of our past selves +exist in spirit-land? If my seance to-night realizes your expectations, +spirit science will have taken a great step forward." + +"My conviction will remain the same whatever the result may be to night," +said Miss Ludington. + +"I am glad to hear you say so," replied Mrs. Legrand languidly; "but I +feel that we shall be successful, and my intuitions rarely deceive me." + +A trembling came over Paul at these words. + +There was a little more general conversation, and the silence which +followed was interrupted by Dr. Hull. + +"I suppose there is no reason why the seance should not proceed, Mrs. +Legrand?" + +"I know of none," assented that lady in lifeless tones. "Please show our +friends the cabinet." + +Dr. Hull rose. "It is usual," he said, "for those who attend our seances +to be asked to satisfy themselves that deception is impossible by an +examination of the apartment which Mrs. Legrand occupies during her +trance, and from which the materialized spirit appears. Will you kindly +step this way?" + +The room in which they sat was a long apartment, divided by double +sliding-doors into a front and back parlour, the former of which had been +the scene of the preceding conversation. + +Dr. Hull now conducted the two visitors into the back parlour, which +proved to be of similar size and appearance to the front parlour, except +that it contained no furniture whatever. There was only one window in the +back parlour, and this was firmly closed by inside blinds. + +It was also uncurtained, and in plain view from the front parlour. +Besides the connection with the front parlour, there was but one door in +the back parlour. This opened into a small apartment, about six feet by +five, which had been taken out of the right-hand rear corner of the back +parlour, and was separated from it by a partition reaching to the +ceiling. This was the cabinet. It had neither window nor door, except the +one into the back parlour. A sofa was its only article of furniture, and +this was of wicker-work, so that nothing could be concealed beneath it. + +"Mrs. Legrand lies upon this sofa while in a state of trance, during +which the spirit is materialized, and appears to us," explained Dr. Hull. + +A rug lay on the floor of the cabinet, the walls were of hard-finished +white plaster, quite bare, and the ceiling, like that of the parlours, +was plain white, without ornament. + +There seemed no possibility of introducing any person into the cabinet or +the back parlour without the knowledge of those in the front parlour. But +Dr. Hull insisted upon making assurance doubly sure by pounding upon the +walls and pulling up the rug in the cabinet, to prove that no sliding +panel or trap-door trick was possible. There was something calculated to +make an unbeliever very uneasy in the quiet confidence of these people, +and the business-like way in which they went to work to make it +impossible to account for any phenomenon that might appear, on any other +but a supernatural theory. No doubt whatever now remained in the mind of +Miss Ludington or Paul that the wonderful mystery which they had hardly +dared to dream of was about to be enacted before them. They followed Dr. +Hull on his tour of inspection as if they were in a dream, mechanically +observing what he pointed out, but replying at random to his remarks, +and, indeed, barely aware of what they were doing. The sense of the +unspeakably awful and tender scene so soon to pass before their eyes +absorbed every susceptibility of their minds. + +Nor indeed would this detective work have had any interest for them in +any case. They would have been willing to concede the medium all the +machinery she desired. There was no danger that they could be deceived as +to the reality of the face and form that for so many years had been +enshrined in their memories. + +There might be as many side entrances to the cabinet as desired, but she +whom they looked for could come only from the spirit-land. + +The front parlour, too, having been investigated, to show the +impossibility of any person's being concealed there, Dr. Hull proceeded +to close and lock the hall-door, that being the only exit connecting this +suite of rooms with the rest of the house. Having placed a heavy chair +against the locked door for further security, he gave the key to Paul. + +Mrs. Legrand now rose, and without a word to any one passed through the +back parlour and disappeared in the cabinet. + +As she did so a wild desire to fly from the room and the house came over +Miss Ludington. Not that she did not long inexpressibly to see the vision +that was drawing near, whose beautiful feet might even now be on the +threshold, but the sense of its awfulness overcame her. She felt that she +was not fit, not ready, for it now. If she could only have more time to +prepare herself, and then could come again. But it was too late to draw +back. + +Dr. Hull had arranged three chairs across the broad doorway between the +back and front parlours, and facing the former. He asked Miss Ludington +to occupy the middle chair, and, trembling in every limb, she did so. +Paul took the chair by her side, the other being apparently for Dr. Hull. + +The elfish little girl, whom they called Alta, and who appeared to be the +daughter of Mrs. Legrand, meanwhile took her place at a piano standing in +the front parlour. + +All being now ready, Dr. Hull proceeded to turn the gas in the two +parlours very low. The jets in both rooms were controlled by a stop-cock +in the wall by the side of the doorway between them. There were two jets +in the back parlour, fastened to the wall dividing it from the front +parlour, one on each side of the door, so as to throw light on any figure +coming out of the cabinet. The light they diffused, after being turned +down; was enough to render forms and faces sufficiently visible for the +recognition of acquaintances, though a close study of features would have +been difficult. + +It now appeared that the glass shades of the jets in the back parlour +were of a bluish tint, which lent a peculiarly weird effect to the +illumination. + +Dr. Hull now took the remaining chair by Miss Ludington's side, and a +perfect silence of some moments ensued, during which she could perfectly +hear the beating of Paul's heart. Then Alta began, with a wonderfully +soft touch, to play a succession of low, dreamy chords, rather than any +set composition--music that thrilled the listeners with vague suggestions +of the unfathomable mystery and unutterable sadness of human life. She +played on and on. It seemed to two of the hearers that she played for +hours, although it was probably but a few minutes. + +At last the music flowed slower, trickled, fell in drops, and ceased. + +They had a sensation of being breathed upon by a faint, cool draught of +air, and then appeared in the door-way of the cabinet the figure of a +beautiful girl, which, after standing still a moment, glided forth, by an +imperceptible motion, into the room. + +The light, which had before seemed so faint, now proved sufficient to +bring out every line of her face and form. Or was it that the figure +itself was luminous by some light from within? + +Paul heard Miss Ludington gasp; but if he had known that she was dying he +could not have taken his eyes from the apparition. + +For it was Ida who stood before him; no counterfeit of the painter now, +but radiant with life. + +Her costume was exactly that of her picture, white, with a low bodice; +but how utterly had the artist failed to reproduce the ravishing contours +of her young form, the enchanting sweetness of her expression. The golden +hair fell in luxuriant tresses about the face and down the dazzling +shoulders. The lips were parted in a pleased smile as, with a gliding +motion, she approached the rapt watchers. + +Her eyes rested on Miss Ludington with a look full of recognition and a +tenderness that seemed beyond the power of mortal eyes to express. + +Then she looked at Paul. Her smile was no longer the smile of an angel, +but of a woman. The light of her violet eyes burned like delicious flame +to the marrow of his bones. + +She was so near him that he could have touched her. Her beauty overcame +his senses. Forgetting all else, in an agony of love, he was about to +clasp her in his arms, but she drew back with a gentle gesture of denial. + +Then a sudden and indescribable wavering passed over her face, like the +passing of the wind over a field of rye, and slowly, as if reluctantly +obeying an unseen attraction, she retreated, still facing them, across +the room, and disappeared within the cabinet, + +Instantly Alta touched the piano, playing the same slow, heavy chords as +before. But this time she played but a few moments, and when she ceased, +Mrs. Legrand's voice was heard faintly calling her. She glided between +the chairs in the door-way and entered the cabinet, drawing a _portiere_ +across its door behind her. + +As she did so, Dr. Hull touched the stopcock in the wall by his side, +turning on the gas in both parlours, and proceeded to unlock and open the +hall-door. + +"It was the most successful seance I have ever witnessed," he said. "The +conditions must have been unusually favourable. How were you pleased, +Miss Ludington?" + +The abrupt transition from the shadows of the between-world to the glare +of gas-light, from the communion of spirits to the brisk business-like +tones of Dr. Hull, was quite too much for the poor lady, and with a +piteous gesture, she buried her face in her hands. Alta now came out of +the cabinet, and said that her mother would like them to examine it once +more. + +Miss Ludington took no notice of the request, but Paul, who had continued +to sit staring into vacancy, as if for him the seance were still going +on, sprang up at Alta's invitation and accepted it with alacrity. The +eagerness with which he peered into the corner of the cabinet, and the +disappointment which his face showed when he perceived no trace of any +person there save Mrs. Legrand and Alta, might naturally have suggested +to them that he suspected fraud; but the fact was very different. His +conduct was merely the result of a confused hope that he might gain +another glimpse of Ida by following her to the place within which she had +vanished. + +When Paul looked into the cabinet, Mrs. Legrand was lying upon the +lounge, and Alta was administering smelling salts to her. As he turned +away disappointed, the medium rose, and leaning on her daughter, returned +to the front parlour. She looked completely overcome. Her face was +deathly pale, and the dark rings around her eyes were larger and darker +than ever. She leaned back in her chair, which had a special rest for her +head, and closed her eyes. + +As neither Dr. Hull nor Alta showed any surprise at her condition, it was +apparently the ordinary result of a seance. + +To her faint inquiry whether the materialization had been satisfactory to +Miss Ludington, the latter replied that it had been all, and more than +all, she had dared dream of. Dr. Hull, in a very enthusiastic manner, +went on to describe the manifestation more particularly. He declared that +the present evening a new world of spirit-life had been revealed, and a +new era in spiritualism had opened. + +"I have been devoted to the study of spiritualism for thirty years," he +exclaimed; "but I have never been present at so wonderful a seance as +this. I grow dizzy when I think of the field of speculation which it +opens up. The spirits of our past selves--? And yet why not, why not? +Like all great discoveries it seems most simple when once brought to +light. It accounts, no doubt, for the throng of unknown spirits of which +mediums are so often conscious, and for the many materializations and +communications which no one recognizes." + +Meanwhile the wretched appearance of the medium aroused Miss Ludington's +sympathies, in spite of the distracted condition of her mind. + +"Is Mrs. Legrand always prostrated in this manner after a seance?" she +asked. + +Dr. Hull answered for the medium. "Not generally quite so much so," he +said; "the strain on her vitality is always very trying, but it is +especially so when a new spirit materializes, as to-night. Out of her +being, somehow, and just how, I know no better than you, is woven the +veil of seeming flesh, yes, and even the clothing which the spirit +assumes in order to appear. The fact that Mrs. Legrand suffers from heart +disease makes seances not only more exhausting for her than for other +mediums, but really dangerous. I have told her, as a physician, and other +physicians have told her, that she is liable at any time to die in a +trance." + +Paul now spoke for the first time since the conclusion of the seance. +"What do you fancy would be the effect on the spirit if a medium should +die during a materialization, as you have supposed?" he inquired. + +"That can only be a matter of theory," replied Dr. Hull; "the accident +has never happened." + +"But it might happen." + +"Yes, it might happen." + +"Is not the spirit as much dependent on the medium for dematerializing +and resuming the spirit-form, as for materializing?" asked Paul. + +"I see what you mean," said Dr. Hull. "You think that in case the medium +should die during a materialization, the spirit might be left in a +materialized state. How does it strike you, Mrs. Legrand?" + +"I don't know," replied that lady, with her eyes closed. "Spirits require +our aid as much to lay aside their bodies as to assume them. If the +medium died meantime, I should think that the spirit might find some +trouble in dematerializing." + +"Is it not possible," said Paul, "that it might be unable to +dematerialize at all? Would not the medium's death close against it the +only door by which it could return to the spirit-world, shutting it out +in this life with us henceforth? More than that: would not the already +materialized spirit be in a position to succeed to the physical life +which the medium relinquished? Already possessed of a part of the +medium's vitality, would not the remainder naturally flow to it when +given up in death, and thus complete its materialization?" + +"And give it an earthly body like ours?" exclaimed Miss Ludington. + +"Yes, like ours," replied Paul. "I suppose it would simply take up its +former life on earth where it had been left off, ceasing to possess a +spirit's powers, and knowing only what and whom it knew at the point when +its first life on earth had ceased." + +"After what I have seen to-night, nothing will ever seem impossible to me +again," said Miss Ludington. + +"As Miss Ludington suggests," observed Dr. Hull, "in spiritualism one +soon ceases to consider whether a thing be wonderful or not, but only if +it be true. And so as to this matter. Now, if the death of a medium +should be absolutely instantaneous, the spirit might, indeed, be unable +to dematerialize, and might even succeed to the medium's earth life, as +you suggest. The trouble with the theory--and it seems to me a fatal +one--is, that death is almost never, if indeed it is ever, absolutely +instantaneous but only comparatively so; and it seems to me that the +least possible interval of time would be sufficient to enable the spirit +to dematerialize. Consequently, it strikes me, that while the result you +suppose is theoretically possible, it could, practically, never occur. +Still, the subject is one of mere conjecture at most, and one opinion is, +perhaps, as good as another." + +"I think you are probably right," said Paul; "it was only a fancy I had." + +"Why does Mrs. Legrand persist in giving seances if she is not in a fit +condition?" said Miss Ludington. + +"Well," replied Dr. Hull, "you see we spiritualists do not regard death +as so serious a matter as do many others. Our mediums, especially, who +stand with one hand clasped by spirits and the other by mortals, are +almost indifferent which way they are drawn; besides, you see, she is +recognized as the most fully developed medium in the United States +to-day, and many spirits, which cannot materialize through other mediums, +are dependent upon her; she feels that she has a duty to discharge +towards the spirit-world, at whatever risk to herself. I doubt if +to-night's seance, for example, would have been successful with any other +medium." + +Immediately after this conversation Miss Ludington and Paul took their +departure. Dr. Hull went, out with them to the carriage, and was obliged +to remind them of the little matter of Mrs. Legrand's fee, which they had +entirely forgotten. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + +Now, before she ever had heard of Mrs. Legrand, Miss Ludington had fully +believed that her former self had an immortal existence, apart and +distinct from her present self, and Paul, to whom she was indebted for +this belief, held it even more firmly than she. + +But there is a great difference between the strongest form of faith and +the absolute assurance of sight. The effect of the vision which they had +witnessed in Mrs. Legrand's parlours was almost as startling as if they +had not expected to see it. + +Very little was said in the carriage going home, but, as they were +crossing the ferry, Miss Ludington exclaimed, in an awestruck voice, + +"O Paul! was it not strange!" + +"Strange? Strange?" he echoed, in strong, exultant tones. "How oddly you +use the word, aunty! You might well say how strange, if we mortals were +isolated here on this little island of time, with no communication with +the mainland of eternity; but how can you call it strange when you find +out that we are not isolated? Surely it is not strange, but supremely +reasonable, right, and natural." + +"I suppose it is so," said Miss Ludington, "but if I had let you go alone +to-night, and stayed at home, I could never have fully believed you when +you told me what you had seen any more than I shall ever expect any one +to believe me. Think, Paul, if I had not gone, if I had not seen her, if +she had not given me that look! I knew, of course, if she appeared that I +should recognize her, but I did not dare to be sure that she would +recognize me. I remember her, but she never saw me on earth." + +"It was as a spirit that she knew you, and that is the way she knew me, +and knew that I loved her," said Paul, with a sudden huskiness in his +voice. + +"Surely that makes it clear," said Miss Ludington, "that the spirits of +our past selves love us who follow them, as we, in looking back, yearn +after them, and not merely await us at the end, but are permitted to +watch over us as we complete the journey which they began. I am sure that +if people knew this they would never feel lonely or forlorn again." + +It was a relief to Paul when they reached home and he could be alone. + +In an ecstasy of happiness that was like a delicious pain, he sat till +morning in his unlighted chamber, gazing into the darkness with a set +smile, motionless, and breathing only by deep, infrequent inhalations. +What were the joys of mortal love to the transports that were his? What +were the smoky fires of earthly passion to his pure, keen flame, almost +too strong for a heart of flesh to bear? + +As he strove to realize what it was to be beloved by an immortal, the +veil between time and eternity was melted by the hot breath of his +passion, and the confines of the natural and the supernatural were +confounded. + +As the east grew light he began to feel the weariness of the intense +mental strain which had led up to, and culminated in, the transcendent +experience of the previous evening. A tranquil happiness succeeded his +exalted mood, and, lying down, he slept soundly till noon, when he went +downstairs to find Miss Ludington anxiously waiting for him to reassure +her that her recollection of the last night was not altogether a dream, +as she had half convinced herself since waking. + +Paul had to go into Brooklyn to do some business for Miss Ludington that +day, but the men he dealt with seemed to him shadows. + +After finishing with them he went over to New York, and presently found +himself on East Tenth Street. He had not intended to go there. His feet +had borne him involuntarily to the spot. He could not resist the +temptation of drawing near to the place where she had been only a few +hours before. He walked to and fro before Mrs. Legrand's house for an +hour, and then stood a long time on the opposite side, looking at the +closed windows of the front parlour, quite unconscious that he had become +an object of curiosity to numerous persons in adjoining houses, and of +marked suspicion to the policeman at the corner. + +Finally he crossed the street, mounted the steps, and rang the bell. The +door was opened, after a considerable interval, by Alta, the elfish +little girl. Paul asked for Mrs. Legrand. Alta said that her mother was +ill to-day, and not able to see any one. Paul then asked for Dr. Hull. He +was not in. + +"I wanted to arrange for another seance," he said. + +"Will you write, or will you call to-morrow?" asked Alta, in a +business-like manner. + +Paul said he would call. Then he hesitated. + +"Excuse me," he said, "but may I ask you if there is any one now in the +parlour where we were last night?" + +"No one is there," replied the little girl. + +"Could you let me just go in and see where she was?" asked Paul, humbly. +"I would not keep you a moment." + +Alta, in her character of door-keeper to this house of mystery, was, +doubtless, in the habit of seeing queer people, bent on queer errands. +She merely asked him to step within the hall, saying that she would speak +to her mother. Presently she returned with the desired permission, and, +producing a key, unlocked the parlour door, and ushered Paul in. + +It was late in the afternoon, and the heavy curtains and blinds left the +rooms almost dark. There was barely light enough to see that all was just +as it had been the night before. The sounds of the street penetrated the +closed apartments but faintly. With the step of one on holy ground, Paul +advanced to the spot where he had been seated when the vision appeared to +him the night before. + +Aided by the darkness, the silence, and by the identity of the +surroundings, the memory of that vision returned to him as he stood there +with a vividness which, in the overwrought condition of his nerves, it +was impossible for him to distinguish from reality. Once more a radiant +figure glided noiselessly from the cabinet, which was darkly outlined in +the corner of the room, and stood before him. Once more her eyes burned +on his, until, forgetting all but her beauty, he put forth his arms to +clasp her. A startled exclamation from Alta banished the vision, and he +perceived that he was smiling upon the empty air. + +He went away from the house ecstatically happy. He believed that he had +really seen her. He had no doubt that, aided by the mediumship of love, +she had actually appeared to him a second time in a form only a little +less material than the night before. + +Of this experience he did not tell Miss Ludington. This interview, which +Ida had granted to him alone, he kept as a precious secret. + +The next day, as he had promised, Paul called at Mrs. Legrand's and saw +Dr. Hull. That gentleman was unable to promise him anything definite +about a seance, on account of Mrs. Legrand's continued illness. + +"Is she seriously sick?" asked Paul, with a new terror. + +"I think not," said Dr. Hull; "but her trouble is of the heart, the +result of the nervous crises which a trance medium is necessarily subject +to, and a disease of the heart may at any time take an unexpected turn." + +"Has she the best advice?" asked Paul. "Excuse me; but if she has not, +and if her pecuniary means do not enable her to afford it, I beg you will +let me secure it for her." + +Dr. Hull thanked him, but said that he was a physician himself, and that, +on account of his acquaintance with her constitutional peculiarities, +Mrs. Legrand considered him, and he considered himself, better able to +treat her than any strange physician. "You seem to be very much +interested in her case," added the doctor, with a slight intonation of +surprise. + +"Can you wonder?" replied Paul. "Is she not door-keeper between this +world and the world of spirits where my love is? Don't think me brutal if +I confess to you that what I think of most is that her death might close +that door." + +"I do not think you brutal," replied Dr. Hull; "what you feel is very +natural." + +"Is it not strange--is it not hard to bear," cried Paul, giving way to +his feelings, "that the key of the gate between the world of spirits and +of men should be intrusted to a weak and sickly woman?" + +"It is hard to bear, no doubt," replied Dr. Hull; "but it is not strange. +It is in accordance with the laws by which this world has always been +conducted. From the beginning has not the power of calling spirits out of +the unknown into this earth life been intrusted to weak and sickly women? +What the world loosely calls spiritualism is no isolated phenomenon or +set of phenomena. The universe is spiritual. Much as we claim for our +mediums, the mediumship of motherhood is far more marvellous. Our mediums +can enable spirits already alive, and able by their own wills to +cooperate, to pass before our eyes for a moment. To hold them longer in +our view exceeds their power. But these other women, these mothers, call +souls out of nothingness, and clothe them with bodies, so that they +speak, walk, work, love, and hate, some forty, some fifty, some seventy +years." + +"You are right," said Paul bowing his head. "It is not strange though it +is hard to bear." + +The effect of the seance at Mrs. Legrand's upon Miss Ludington had been +far less disturbing than upon Paul. To her it had been a lofty spiritual +consolation, setting the seal of absolute assurance upon a faith that had +been before too great, too strange, too beautiful for her to fully +realize. + +When Paul brought word that Mrs. Legrand was sick and might die, and that +if she died that first vision of Ida might also prove the last to be +vouchsafed them on earth, although she was deeply grieved, yet the +thought did not seem so intolerable to her as to him. She had, indeed, +hoped that from time to time she should see Ida again; still, her life +was mostly past, and it was chiefly upon the communion they would enjoy +in heaven, not momentary and imperfect as here, but perennial and +complete, that her heart was set. + +Very different was it with Paul. He was young; heaven was very far off, +and the way thither, unless cheered by occasional visitations of his +radiant mistress, seemed inexpressibly long and dreary. The nature of his +sentiment for Ida had changed since he had seen her clothed in a living +form, from the worship of a sweet but dim ideal to the passion which a +living woman inspires. He thought of her no more as a spirit, lofty and +serene, but as a beautiful maiden with the love-light in her eyes. + +He was not able to find his former inspiration in the picture above the +fireplace. Its still enchantment was gone. The set smile, that had ever +before seemed so sweet, palled upon him. The eyes, that had always been +so tender, now lacked expression. The lips that the boy had climbed up to +kiss, how had the artist failed to intimate their exquisite curves! The +whole picture had suffered a subtle deterioration, and looked hard, +wooden, lifeless, and almost, unlike. The living woman had eclipsed the +portrait. Fortunate it is for the fame of painters that their originals +do not oftener return to earth. + +If Mrs. Legrand had been his own mother Paul could not have been more +assiduous in his calls and inquiries as to her condition, nor could his +relief have been greater when, a few days later, Dr. Hull told him that +the case had taken a favourable turn, and according to her previous +experience with such attacks, she would probably be as well as usual by +the following day. Dr. Hull said that she had heard of Paul's frequent +inquiries for her, and while she did not flatter herself that his +interest in her was wholly on her own account, she was, nevertheless, so +far grateful that she would give him the first seance which she was able +to hold, and that would be, if she continued to improve, on the following +evening. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + +If Miss Ludington's desire for another glimpse of Ida had lacked the +passionate intensity of Paul's, she had, notwithstanding, longed for it +very ardently, and when at nine o'clock the next night the carriage drew +up before Mrs. Legrand's door, she was in a transport of sweet +anticipation. + +As for Paul he had dressed himself with extreme care for the occasion, +and looked to his best advantage. He had said to himself, "Shall I not +show her as much observance as I would pay to a living woman?" And who +can say--for very odd, sometimes, are the inarticulate processes of the +mind--that there was not at the bottom of his thoughts something of the +universal lover's willingness to let his mistress see him at his best? + +They found the front parlour occupied as before by Mrs. Legrand and Dr. +Hull, when Alta showed them in. The medium was, as previously, the +picture of ill-health, and if she did not look noticeably worse than +before her sickness, it was merely because she had looked as badly as +possible then. In response to inquiries about her health she admitted +that she did not really feel equal to resuming her seances quite so soon, +and but for disliking to disappoint them would have postponed this +evening's appointment. Dr. Hull had, indeed, urged her to do so. + +"You must not think of giving a seance if there is any risk of injury to +your health," said Miss Ludington, though not without being sensible of a +pang of disappointment. "We could not think of letting you do that, could +we, Paul?" + +Paul's reply to this humane suggestion was not so prompt as it should +have been. In his heart he felt at that moment that he was as bad as a +murderer. He knew that he was willing this woman should risk not only her +health, but even her life, rather than that he should fail to see Ida. He +was striving to repress this feeling, so far at least as to say that he +would not insist upon going on with the seance, when Mrs. Legrand, with a +glance through her half-shut eyelids, intimating that she perfectly +understood his thoughts, said, in a tone which put an end to the +discussion, "Excuse me, but I shall certainly give the seance. I am much +obliged for your interest in me; but I am rather notional about keeping +my promises, and it is a peculiarity in which my friends have to indulge +in. I daresay I shall be none the worse for the exertion." + +"Doctor," she added, "will you allow our friends to inspect the cabinet?" + +"That is quite needless," said Paul. + +"Our friends are often willing to waive an inspection," replied Dr. Hull. +"We are grateful for the confidence shown, but, in justice to ourselves, +as well as for their own more absolute assurance, we always insist upon +it. Otherwise, suspicions of fraud not entertained, perhaps, at the time, +might afterwards occur to the mind, or be suggested by others, to which +they would have no conclusive answer." + +Upon this Miss Ludington and Paul permitted themselves to be conducted +upon the same tour of inspection that they had made the former evening. +They found everything precisely as it had been on that occasion. There +was no possibility of concealing any person in the cabinet or the back +parlour, and no apparent or conceivable means by which any person could +reach those apartments, except through the front parlour. + +On their return to the latter apartment the proceedings followed the +order observed at the previous seance. Mrs. Legrand rose from her chair +and walked feebly through the back parlour into the cabinet. Dr. Hull +then locked and braced a chair against the door opening into the hall, +giving the key to Paul. Then, having arranged the three chairs as before, +across the double door between the parlours, he seated Miss Ludington and +Paul, and, having turned the gas down, took the third chair. + +All being ready, Alta, who was at the piano, struck the opening chords of +the same soft, low music that she had played at the previous seance. + +It seemed to Miss Ludington that she played much longer than before, and +she began to think that either there was to be some failure in the +seance, or that something had happened to Mrs. Legrand. + +Perhaps she was dead. This horrible thought, added to the strain of +expectancy, affected her nerves so that in another moment she must have +screamed out, when, as before, she felt a faint, cool air fan her +forehead, and a few seconds later Ida appeared at the door of the cabinet +and glided into the room. + +She was dressed as at her former appearance, in white, with her shoulders +bare, and the wealth of her golden hair falling to her waist behind. + +From the moment that she emerged from the shadows of the cabinet Paul's +eyes were glued to her face with an intensity quite beyond any ordinary +terms of description. + +Fancy having not over a minute in which to photograph upon the mind a +form the recollection of which is to furnish the consolation of a +lifetime. The difficulties of securing this second seance, and the doubt +that involved the obtaining of another, had deeply impressed him. He +might never again see Ida on earth, and upon the fidelity with which his +memory retained every feature of her face, every line of her figure, his +thoughts by day, and his dreams by night, might have to depend for their +texture until he should meet her in another world. + +The lingering looks that are the lover's luxury were not for these +fleeting seconds. His gaze burned upon her face and played around her +form like lightning. He grudged the instantaneous muscles of the eye the +time they took to make the circuit of her figure. + +But when, as on that other night, she came close up to him and smiled +upon him, time and circumstance were instantly forgotten, and he fell +into a state of enchantment in which will and thought were inert. + +He was aroused from it by an extraordinary change that came over her. She +started and shivered slightly in every limb. The recognition faded out of +her eyes and gave place to a blank bewilderment. + +Then came a turning of her head from side to side, while, with dilated +eyes, she explored the dim recesses of the room with the startled +expression of an awakened sleep-walker. She half turned toward the +cabinet and made an undecided movement in that direction, and then, as if +the invisible cord that drew her thither had broken, she wavered, +stopped, and seemed to drift toward the opposite corner of the room. + +At that moment there was a gasp from the cabinet. + +Dr. Hull leaped to his feet and sprang toward it, at the same time, by a +turn of the stopcock by his side, setting the gas in both rooms at full +blaze. + +Alta, with a loud scream, rushed after him, and Miss Ludington and Paul +followed them. + +The pupils of their eyes had been dilated to the utmost in order to +follow the movements of the apparition in the nearly complete darkness, +and the first effect of the sudden blaze of gaslight was to dazzle them +so completely that they had actually to grope their way to the cabinet. + +The scene in the little apartment of the medium was a heartrending one. + +Mrs. Legrand's body and lower limbs lay on the sofa, which was the only +article of furniture, and Dr. Hull was in the act of lifting her head +from the floor to which it had fallen. Her eyes were half open, and the +black rings around them showed with ghastly plainness against the awful +pallor which the rest of her face had taken on. One hand was clenched. +The other was clutching her bodice, as if in the act of tearing it open. +A little foam flecked the blue lips. + +Alta threw herself upon her mother's body, sobbing, "Oh, mamma, wake up! +do! do!" + +"Is she dead?" asked Miss Ludington, in horrified accents. + +"I don't know; I fear so. I warned her; I told her it would come. But she +would do it," cried the doctor incoherently, as he tried to feel her +pulse with one hand while he tore at the fastenings of her dress with the +other. He set Paul at work chafing the hands of the unconscious woman, +while Miss Ludington sprinkled her face and chest with ice-water from a +small pitcher that stood in a corner of the cabinet, and the doctor +himself endeavoured in vain to force some of the contents of a vial +through her clenched teeth. "It is of no use," he said, finally; "she is +past help--she is dead!" + +At this Miss Ludington and Paul stood aside, and Alta, throwing herself +upon her mother's form, burst into an agony of tears. "She was all I +had," she sobbed. + +"Had Mrs. Legrand friends?" asked Miss Ludington, conscience-stricken +with the thought that she had indirectly been in part responsible for +this terrible event. + +"She had friends who will look after Alta," said Dr. Hull. + +Their assistance being no longer needed, Miss Ludington and Paul turned +from the sad scene and stepped forth from the cabinet into the back +parlour. + +The tragedy which they had just witnessed had to a great extent driven +from their thoughts the events of the seance which it had broken off so +abruptly. The impression left on their minds was that the spirit-form of +Ida had vanished in the blinding flood of gas-light through which they +had groped their way to the cabinet on hearing the death-rattle of the +medium. + +But now in the remotest corner of the room, towards which they had last +seen the form of the spirit drifting, there stood a young girl. She was +bending forward, shielding her eyes with her right hand from the flaring +gas, as she peered curiously about the room, her whole attitude +expressive of complete bewilderment. + +It was Ida; but what a change had passed upon her! This was no pale +spirit, counterfeiting for a few brief moments, with the aid of darkness, +the semblance of mortal flesh, but an unmistakable daughter of earth. Her +bosom was palpitating with agitation, and, instead of the lofty serenity +of a spirit, her eyes expressed the trouble of a perplexed girl who is +fast becoming frightened. + +As Paul and Miss Ludington stepped forth from the cabinet she fixed upon +them a pair of questioning eyes. There was not a particle of recognition +in their expression. Presently she spoke. Her voice was a mezzo-soprano, +low and sweet, but just now sharpened by an accent of apprehension. + +"Where am I?" she asked. + +After a moment, during which their brains reeled with an amazement so +utter that they doubted the evidence of their senses--doubted even their +own existence and identities, there had simultaneously flashed over the +minds of Paul and Miss Ludington the explanation of what they beheld. + +The prodigy, the theoretical possibility of which they had discussed +after the seance of the week before, and scarcely thought of since, had +come to pass. Dr. Hull had proved wrong, and Paul had proved right. A +medium had died during a materialization, and the materialized spirit had +succeeded to her vitality, and was alive as one of them. + +It was no longer the spirit of Ida, knowing them by a spirit's intuition, +which was before them, but the girl Ida Ludington, whose curious, +unrecognizing glance testified to her ignorance of aught which the Hilton +school-girl of forty years ago had not known. + +It was with an inexpressible throb of exultation, after the stupor of +their first momentary astonishment, that they comprehended the miracle by +which in the moment when the hope of ever beholding Ida again had seemed +taken from them, had restored her not only to their eyes, but to life. +But how should they accost her, how make themselves known to her, how go +about even to answer the question she had asked without terrifying her +with new and deeper mysteries? + +While they stood dumb, with hearts yearning toward her, but powerless to +think of words with which to address her, Dr. Hull, hearing the sound of +her voice, stepped out from the cabinet. At the sight of Ida he started +back astounded, and Paul heard him exclaim under his breath, "I never +thought of this" + +Then he laid his hand on Paul's arm and said, in an agitated whisper, +"You were right. It has happened as you said. My God, what can we say to +her?" + +Meanwhile, Ida was evidently becoming much alarmed at the strange looks +bent upon her. "Perhaps, sir," she said, addressing Dr. Hull, with an +appealing accent, "you will tell me how I came in this place?" + +Then ensued an extraordinary scene of explanation, in which, seconding +one another's efforts, striving to hit upon simpler analogies, plainer +terms, Paul the doctor, and Miss Ludington sought to make clear to this +waif from eternity, so strangely stranded on the shores of Time, the +conditions and circumstances under which she had resumed an earthly +existence. + +For a while she only grew more terrified at their explanations, appearing +to find them totally unintelligible, and, though her fears were gradually +dissipated by the tenderness of their demeanour, her bewilderment seemed +to increase. For a long time she continued to turn her face, with a +pathetic expression of mental endeavour, from one to another, as they +addressed her, only to shake her head slowly and sadly at last. + +"I seem to have lost myself," she said, pressing her hand to her +forehead. "I do not understand anything you say." + +"It is a hard matter to understand," replied Dr. Hull. "Understanding +will come later. Meanwhile, look in at the door of this room and you will +see the body of the woman to whose life you have succeeded. Then you will +believe us though you do not understand us." + +As he spoke he indicated the door of the cabinet. + +Ida stepped thither and looked in, recoiling with a sharp cry of horror. +The terror in her face was piteous, and in a moment Miss Ludington was at +her side, supporting and soothing her. Sobbing and trembling Ida +submitted unresistingly to her ministrations, and even rested her head on +Miss Ludington's shoulder. + +The golden hair brushed the grey locks; the full bosom heaved against the +shrunken breast of age; the wrinkled, scarred, and sallow face of the old +woman touched the rounded cheek of the girl. + +Fully as Paul believed that he had realized the essential and eternal +distinction between the successive persons who constitute an +individuality, he grew dizzy with the sheer wonder of the spectacle as he +saw age thus consoling youth, and reflected upon the relation of these +two persons to each other. + +Presently Ida raised her head and said, "It may be as you say. My mind is +all confused. I cannot think now. Perhaps I shall understand it better +after a while." + +"If you will come home with me now," said Miss Ludington, "before you +sleep I will convince you what we are to each other. Will you come with +me?" + +"Oh, yes!" exclaimed the girl. "Let us go. Let us leave this awful +place;" and she glanced with a shudder at the door of the cabinet. + +A few moments later the house of death had been left behind, and Miss +Ludington's carriage, with its three passengers was rolling homewards. + +Before leaving, Miss Ludington had told Dr. Hull that he might command +her so far as any pecuniary assistance should be needed either with +reference to the funeral or in connection with providing for Alta. She +said that it would be a relief to her to be allowed to do anything she +could. Dr. Hull thanked her and said that, as Mrs. Legrand had friends in +the city, it would probably be unnecessary to trouble her. If for no +other purpose, however, he said that he should possibly communicate with +her hereafter with a view to informing himself as to the future of the +young lady who had that night assumed the earth-life which his dear +friend, Mrs. Legrand, had laid aside. + +It was an incident of this extraordinary situation that Miss Ludington +found herself at disadvantage even in expressing the formal condolence +she proffered. With Ida before her eyes it was impossible that she should +honestly profess to deplore the event, however tragical, which had +brought her back to earth. As for Paul he said nothing at all. + +The rattling of the wheels on the stony pavement was enough of itself to +make conversation difficult in the carriage; even if it would otherwise +have flowed easily in a company so strangely assorted. As the light of +the street lamps from time to time flashed in at the windows Paul saw +that Ida's face continued to wear the look of helpless daze which it had +assumed from the moment that the sight of the dead woman in the cabinet +had convinced her that she could not trust her own knowledge as to the +relations of those about her. + +But when at last the carriage rolled through the gates of Miss +Ludington's estate, and the houses of the mimic village began to glance +by, her manner instantly changed. With an exclamation of joyful surprise, +she put her head out at the window, and then looking back at them, cried, +delightedly, "Why it's Hilton! You have brought me home! There's our +house!" No sooner had she alighted than she ran up the walk to the door, +and tried to open it. Paul, hurrying after, unlocked it, and she burst +in, while he and Miss Ludington followed her, wondering. + +The servants had gone to bed, leaving the lower part of the house dimly +lighted. Ida hurried on ahead from room to room with the confident step +of one whose feet knew every turning. It was evident that she needed no +one to introduce her there. + +When Miss Ludington and Paul followed her into the sitting-room, she was +standing before her own picture in an attitude of utter astonishment. + +"Where did they get that picture of me?" she demanded. "I never had a +picture painted." + +For a few moments there was no reply. Those she addressed were engrossed +in comparing the portrait with its original. The resemblance was striking +enough, but it was no wonder that after once seeing the living Ida, Paul +had found the canvas stiff and hard and lifeless. + +"No," said Miss Ludington, "you never had a picture painted. It was not +till many years after you had left the world that this picture was +painted. It was enlarged from this portrait of you. Do you remember it?" +and taking the locket containing the ivory portrait of Ida from her neck +where she had worn it so many years, she opened and gave it to the girl. + +"Why, it is my ivory portrait!" exclaimed Ida. "How did you come by it? +What do you mean about my leaving the world? Something strange has +happened to me, I know, but did I die? I don't remember dying. Oh, can't +somebody explain what has happened to me?" + +The dazed look which had disappeared from her face since her recognition +of the village and the homestead had come back, and her last words were a +bitter cry that went to the hearts of the listeners. + +Now, all the time they had been in the carriage, Paul had been trying to +think of some mode of setting her relationship to Miss Ludington in a +light so clear that she must comprehend it, for it was evident that the +confused explanations at Mrs. Legrand's had availed little, if anything, +to that end. Unless this could be done she seemed likely to remain +indefinitely in this dazed mental state, which must be so exquisitely +painful to her, and was scarcely less so to them. + +"If you will listen to me patiently," he said, "I will try to explain. +You know that some strange thing has happened to you, and you must expect +to find the explanation as strange as the thing itself; but it is not +hard to understand." + +Ida's eyes were fixed on him with the expression of one listening for her +life. + +"Do you remember being a little girl of nine or ten years old?" he asked. + +"Oh, yes!" she answered. "I remember that perfectly well." + +"You are now a young woman," he went on. "Where is that little girl whom +you remember? What has become of her?" + +"Why, I don't know," replied Ida. "I suppose she is somewhere in me." + +"But you don't look like a little girl, or think or act or feel like one. +How can she be in you?" + +"Where else could she be?" replied Ida. + +"Oh, there is no lack of room for her," said Paul; "the universe is big +enough for all the souls that ever lived in it. Suppose, now, you +believed her to be still alive as a spirit, just as she was, still alive +somewhere in the land of spirits, not transformed into the young lady +that you are at all, you understand, for that would only be another way +of saying that she was dead, but just as she was, a child, with a child's +loves, a child's thoughts, a child's feelings, and a child's face--can +you suppose such a thing, just as an effort of imagination?" + +"Oh, yes!" said Ida; "I can suppose that." + +"Well, then," said Paul, "suppose also that you remembered this little +girl very tenderly, and longed to look on her face again, although +knowing that she was a spirit now. Suppose that you went to a woman +having a mysterious power to call up the spirits of the departed, and +suppose that she called up the spirit of this child-self of yours, and +that you recognized it, and suppose that just at that moment the woman +died, and her earthly life was transferred to the spirit of the child, so +that instead of being a spirit, she became again a living child, but +unable to recognize you who loved her so well, because when she lived on +earth, you, of course, had not yet come into existence. Suppose you +brought this child home with you----" + +"What do you mean?" interrupted Ida, with dilating eyes. "Am I----" + +"You are to that woman," broke in Paul, indicating Miss Ludington, "what +the child would have been to you. You are bound to her by the same tie by +which that little girl would have been bound to you. She remembers and +loves you as you would remember and love that child; but you do not know +her any more than that child would know you. You both share the name of +Ida Ludington, according to the usage of men as to names; but I think +there is no danger of your being confounded with each other, either in +your own eyes or those of lookers-on." + +Ida had at last comprehended. The piercing look, expressive of mingled +attraction and repulsion, which she fixed upon Miss Ludington, left no +doubt of that. It implied alarm, mistrust, and something that was almost +defiance, yet with hints of a possible tenderness. + +It was such a look as a daughter, stolen from her cradle and grown to +maidenhood among strangers, might fix upon the woman claiming to be her +mother, except that not only was Miss Ludington a stranger to Ida, but +the relation which she claimed to sustain to her was one that had never +before been realized between living persons on earth, however it might +be, in heaven. + +"Do you understand?" said Paul. + +"I--think--I--do. But how--strange--it is!" she replied, in lingering +tones, her gaze continuing to rest, as if fascinated, upon Miss +Ludington. + +The latter's face expressed a great elation, an impassioned tenderness +held in check through fear of terrifying its object. + +"I do not wonder it seems strange," she said, very softly. "You have yet +no evidence as to who I am. I remember you--oh, how well!--but you cannot +remember me, nor is there any instinct answering to memory by which you +can recognize me. You have a right to require that I should prove that I +am what I claim to be; that I am also Ida Ludington; that I am your later +self. Do not fear, my darling. I shall be able to convince you very +soon." + +She made Ida sit down, and then went to an ancient secretary, that stood +in a corner of the room, and unlocked a drawer, the key to which she +always carried on her person. + +Paul remembered from the time he was a little boy seeing her open this +drawer on Sunday afternoons and cry over the keepsakes which it +contained. + +She took out now a bundle of letters, a piece of ribbon, a locket, a +bunch of faded flowers, and a few other trifles, and brought them to Ida. + +Paul left the room on tiptoe. This was a scene where a third person, one +might almost say a second person, would be an interloper. + +When, a long time after, he returned, Miss Ludington was sitting in the +chair where Ida had been sitting, smiling and crying, and the girl, with +eyes that shone like stars, was bending over her, and kissing the tears +away. + +The night was now almost spent, and the early dawn of midsummer, peering +through the windows, and already dimming the lights, warned them that the +day would soon be at hand. + +"You shall have your own bedroom," said Miss Ludington. The face of the +old lady was flushed, and her high-pitched and tremulous voice betrayed +an exhilaration like that of intoxication. "You will excuse me for having +cluttered it up with my things; to-morrow I will take them away. You see +I had not dared hope you would come back to me. I had expected to go to +you." + +"I and you--you and I." The girl repeated the words after her, slowly, as +if trying to grasp their full meaning as she uttered them. Then a sudden +terror leaped into her eyes, and she cried shudderingly: "Oh, how strange +it is!" + +"You do not doubt it? You do not doubt it still?" exclaimed Miss +Ludington, in anguished tones. + +"No, no!" said the girl, recovering herself with an evident effort. "I +cannot doubt it. I do not," and she threw her aims about Miss Ludington's +neck in an embrace in which, nevertheless, a subtle shrinking still +mingled with the impulse of tenderness which had overcome it. + +When presently Miss Ludington and Ida went upstairs together, the latter, +with eager, unhesitating step, led the way through a complexity of +roundabout passages, and past many other doors, to that of the chamber +which had been the common possession of the girl and the woman. Miss +Ludington followed her, wondering, yet not wondering. + +"It seems so strange to see you so familiar with this house," she said, +with a little hysterical laugh, "and yet, of course, I know it is not +strange." + +"No," replied the girl, looking at her with a certain astonishment, "I +should think not. It would be strange, indeed, if I were not familiar +here. The only strange thing is to feel that I am not at home here, that +I am a guest in this house." + +"You are not a guest," exclaimed Miss Ludington, hurriedly, for she saw +the dazed look coming again into the girl's eyes. "You shall be mistress +here. Paul and I ask nothing better than to be your servants." + +To pass from the waking to the dreaming state is in general to exchange a +prosaic and matter-of-fact world for one of fantastic improbabilities; +but it is safe to assume that the three persons who fell asleep beneath +Miss Ludington's roof that morning, just as the birds began to twitter, +encountered in dreamland no experiences so strange as those which they +had passed through with their eyes open the previous evening. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + +The day following, Paul was downstairs before either Ida or Miss +Ludington. He was sitting on the piazza, which was connected with the +sitting-room by low windows opening like doors, when he heard a scream, +and Ellen, the housemaid, who had been busy in the sitting-room, ran out +upon the piazza with a face like a sheet. + +"What's the matter?" he demanded. + +"Sure I saw a ghost!" gasped Ellen. "I was on a chair dusting the +picture, as I always does mornings, an' I looked up, an' there in the +door stood the very same girl that's in the picture, kind of smiling +like. And so I give a yell an' run." + +As she spoke Ida stepped out upon the piazza, and precipitately +sheltering herself behind Paul, Ellen whispered, "Sure there she is now!" + +On seeing that, instead of sharing her terror, he cordially greeted the +ghost, the girl's face showed such comical bewilderment that Ida smiled +and Paul laughed outright. + +"This is no ghost, Ellen. This lady is Miss Ida Ludington, a relative of +Miss Ludington's, who came to live here last night." + +"I hope ye'll not mind me takin' ye for a ghost, miss," said Ellen, +confusedly; "but sure ye are the livin' image of the picture, and me not +knowin' anybody was in the house more than the family;" and she +disappeared to tell her story in the kitchen. + +Ida's appearance was noticeably calmer than the night before. There was, +indeed, no indication of excitement in her manner. Paul inquired how she +had slept. + +"I should think you might have had strange dreams," he said. + +"I did not dream at all. I slept soundly," she replied. "But this morning +when I woke up and recognized the familiar features of the room I have +always slept in--the same books, the same pictures, the furniture just as +ever--I had to sit down a long time to collect my thoughts and remember +what had happened. I could remember it well enough, but to realize it was +very hard. And then, when I went to the window and looked out and saw the +meeting-house and the school-house and the neighbours' houses, just where +I have seen them from that window all my life since I was a baby, I had +to sit down and think it all over, again before I could believe that I +was not in Hilton, and last night all a dream." + +She spoke in a low, even tone, which was so evidently the result of an +effort at self-control, that it impressed Paul more than any display of +mental perturbation would have done. + +At this moment Miss Ludington appeared on the piazza with a white, +excited face, which, however, as soon as she saw Ida, became all smiles. + +She had scarcely slept at all. The thought had kept her awake that Ida +might vanish as mysteriously as she had come, and be gone at morning. +From sheer weariness, however, she had at last fallen into a doze. On +awaking she had gone to call Ida, and finding her chamber empty, had +hurried downstairs full of apprehension. + +Immediately after breakfast, Miss Ludington, to whom Ellen's mistake; if +mistake it could be called, had been related, took Ida upstairs, land +made her exchange her white dress of the fashion of half a century before +for one of her own, in order that her appearance might excite less remark +among the servants pending the obtaining of a suitable wardrobe from the +city. + +There was another consideration which made the change of costume not only +desirable, but necessary. + +Ida's dress, which had not seemed the night before, to casual +examination, to differ from other cloth, had begun to crumble away in a +very curious manner. The texture seemed strangely brittle and +strengthless. It fell apart at a touch, and was reduced to a fine powder +under the pressure of the fingers. She could not possibly have worn it +even one day. + +The dress of Miss Ludington's, for which she exchanged it, had been made +for that lady when considerably stouter than at present, but was with +difficulty enlarged sufficiently for the full figure of the girl. Like +all but the latest of Miss Ludington's dresses, it was of deepest black, +and, strikingly beautiful as Ida had been in white, the funereal hue set +off the delicacy of her complexion, the pure expression of her face, and +the golden lustre of her hair, like fresh revelations. + +Paul was left pretty much to himself during the day. A large part of it +was spent by the ladies in an upstairs chamber, which Miss Ludington had +devoted to a collection of mementoes of the successive periods of her +life from infancy. + +"Come," she had said to Ida, "I want to introduce you to the rest of the +family. I want to make you acquainted with the other Miss Ludingtons who +have borne the name between your time and mine." + +Having been an only child, Miss Ludington's garments, toys, school-books, +and other belongings had not been handed down to younger brothers and +sisters, and eventually to destruction. It had been an easy matter to +preserve them, and, consequently, the collection was large and curious, +including samples of the wardrobe appertaining to every epoch, from the +swaddling-clothes of the infant to a black gown of the last year. + +After the period of youth, however, which Ida represented, the number and +interest of the mementoes rapidly decreased, and for many years had +consisted of nothing more than a few dresses and a collection of +photographs, one or two for each year, arranged in order. They numbered +not less than fifty in all and covered thirty-seven years, from a +daguerreotype of Miss Ludington at the age of twenty-five to a photograph +taken the last month. Between these two pictures there was not enough +resemblance to suggest to a casual observer that they were pictures of +the same individual. + +To trace the gradual process of change from year to year during the +intervening period, was an employment which never lost its pensive +fascination for Miss Ludington. For each of these faces, with their so +various expressions, represented a person possessing a peculiar identity +and certain incommunicable qualities--a person a little different from +any one of those who came before or after her, and from any other person +who ever lived on earth. + +As now the grey head and the golden head bent together over one picture +after another, Miss Ludington related all she could remember of the +history and personal peculiarities of the original. + +"There is, really, not much to say about them," she said. "They lived +very quiet, uneventful lives, and to anybody but us would, doubtless, +seem entirely uninteresting persons. All wore black dresses, and had sad +faces, and all found in their thoughts of you the source at once of their +only consolation and their keenest sorrow. For they fully believed--think +of it!--fully and unquestionably believed that you were dead; more +hopelessly dead than if you were in your grave, dead, with no possibility +of resurrection." + +"This is the one," she said, presently, as she took up the picture of a +woman of thirty-five, "who had the fortune left to her, which has come +down to me. I want you to like her. Next to you I think more of her than +I do of any of the rest. It was she who cut loose from the old life at +Hilton which had become so sour and sad, and built this new Hilton here, +where life has been so much calmer, and, on the whole, happier, than it +had got to be at home. It was she who had the portrait of you painted +which is downstairs." + +Ida took up a picture of the Miss Ludington of twenty-six or seven. + +"Tell me something about her," she said. "What kind of a person was she?" + +The elder woman's manner, when she saw what picture it was that Ida had +taken up, betrayed a marked embarrassment, and first she made no reply. + +Noticing her confusion and hesitation, Ida said, softly, "Don't tell me +if it is anything you don't like to speak of. I do not care to know it." + +"I will tell you," replied Miss Ludington, with determination. "You have +as good a right to know as I have. She cannot blame me for telling you. +She knows your secrets as I do, and you have a right to know hers. She +had a little escapade. You must not be too hard on her. It was the +outcome of the desperate dulness and life-weariness that came over her +with the knowledge that youth and its joys were past, leaving nothing in +their place. The calm and resignation to a lonely existence, empty of all +that human hearts desire, which came in after-years, she could not yet +command. Oh, if you could imagine, as I remember, the bitterness of that +period, you would not be too hard upon her for anything she might have +done I But, really, it was nothing very bad. People would not call it so, +even if it had ever become known." And then, with blushing cheeks and +shamed eyes, Miss Ludington poured into Ida's ears a story that would +have disappointed any one expectant of a highly sensational disclosure, +but which stood out in her memory as the one indiscretion of an otherwise +blameless life. That she imparted it to Ida was the most striking +evidence she could have given of the absolute community of interests +which she recognized as existing between them. She was greatly comforted +when Ida, instead of appearing shocked, declared that she sympathized +with the culprit more than she blamed her, and that her misconduct was +venial. + +"I suppose," said Miss Ludington, "every one, in looking back upon their +past selves, sees some whom they condemn, and, perhaps, despise, and +others whom they admire and sympathize with. And I confess I sympathize +with this poor girl. Those I don't like are some whom I remember to have +lacked softness of heart, to have been sour and ungenerous; these, for +instance," indicating certain pictures. "But it is hardly fair," she +added, laughing, "for us two to get together and abuse the rest of the +family, who, no doubt, if they were present, would have something to say +for themselves, and some criticisms to offer on us--that is, on me. None +of them would criticize you. You were the darling and pride of us all." + +"If I do say it," Miss Ludington presently resumed, "we have been a very +respectable lot on the whole. The Ida Ludingtons have been good babies, +good children, good girls, good women, and, I hope, will prove to have +been respectable old women, In the spirit land, when we all meet +together, there will be no black sheep among us, nor even anybody that we +shall need to send to Coventry: But I do not see why special affinities +should not assert themselves there as here, and Cliques form among us. +You will belong to them all, of course, but next to you I know that I +shall be fondest of that poor girl I told you about, of her and of the +Ida Ludington who built this new Hilton thirty years ago." + +"And now," she said, as they finished looking over the pictures and +talking about them, "I have introduced you to all who have borne our name +from your day to mine. As to those who came before you, the baby Ida and +the child Ida, you remember them even better than I do, no doubt. I would +give anything if I had their pictures, but the blessed art of photography +was not then invented. These keepsakes are all I have of them." And +taking Ida over to another part of the room, she showed her a cradle, +several battered dolls, fragments of a child's pewter tea-set, and a +miscellaneous collection of toys. + +They took up and handled tenderly pairs of little shoes, socks nearly as +long as one's fingers, and baby dresses scarcely bigger than a man's +mittens. Lying near were the shoes, and gowns, and hoods, now grown a +little larger, of the child, with the coral necklace, and first precious +ornaments, the dog's-eared spelling-books, and the rewards of merit, +testifying of early school-days. + +"I can barely remember the baby and this little girl," said Miss +Ludington, "but I fancy they will be the pets of all the rest of us up +there, don't you?" + +After Miss Ludington had shown Ida all the contents of the room, and they +were about to leave it, she said to the girl, "And now what do you think +of us other Ida Ludingtons, who have followed you, present company not +excepted? Confess that you think the acquaintances I have introduced to +you were scarcely worth the making. You need not hesitate to say so; it +is quite my own opinion. We have amounted to very little, taken +altogether." + +"Oh, no!" said Ida, quietly; "I do not think that; I would not say that; +but your lives have all been so different from what I have always dreamed +my life as a woman would be." + +"You have a right to be disappointed in us," said Miss Ludington. "We +have, indeed, not turned out as you expected--as you had a right to +expect." But Ida would not admit in any derogatory sense that she was +disappointed. + +"You are sweeter, and kinder, and gentler, than I supposed I ever could +be," she said; "but you see, I thought, of course, I should be married, +and have children, and that all would be so different from what it has +been; but not that I should ever be better than you are, or nearly so +sweet. Oh, no!" + +"Thank you, my darling!" said the old lady, kissing Ida's hand, as if she +were a queen who had conferred an order of merit upon her. "I think that +to have to confess to their youthful selves their failures to fulfil +their expectations must be the hardest part of the Day of Judgment for +old folks who have wasted their lives. All will not find so gentle a +judge as mine." + +Her eyes were full of happy tears. + +In the latter part of the afternoon they took a walk in the village, and +Ida pressed her companion with a multitude of inquiries about the members +of the families which had occupied the houses, forty and fifty years +before, and what had since become of them; to reply to which taxed Miss +Ludington's memory not a little. + +As they came to the schoolhouse Ida ran on ahead, and when her companion +entered, was already seated in Miss Ludington's old seat. Nothing, +perhaps, could have brought home to the latter more strongly the nature +of her relationship to Ida than to stand beside her as she sat in that +seat. + +As they fell to talking of the scholars who had sat here and there, Miss +Ludington began gently to banter Ida about this and that boyish +sweetheart, and divers episodes connected with such topics. + +"This is unfair," said the girl, smiling. "It is a very one-sided +arrangement that you should remember all my secrets while I know none of +yours. It is as if you had stolen my private journal." + +A subtle coyness, an air of constraint, and of shy, curious observance, +which had marked Ida's manner toward Miss Ludington in the early part of +the day, had noticeably given way under the influence of the latter's +blithe affectionateness, and it was with arms about each other's waists +that the two sauntered back to the house, in the twilight. + +"I scarcely know what to call you," said Ida. "For me to call you Ida, as +you call me, would be and, besides, you are so much older than I it would +seem hardly fitting." + +Miss Ludington laughed softly. + +"On the score of respect, my darling, you need not hesitate," she said, +"for it is you who are the elder Miss Ludington, and I the younger, in +spite of my white hair. You are forty years older than I. It is I who owe +you the respect due to years. You are right, however; it would be +confusing for us to call each other by the same name, and still there is +no word in human language that truly describes our relationship." + +"It seems to me it is more like that of sisters than any other," +suggested Ida, with a certain timidity. + +Miss Ludington reflected a moment, and then exclaimed, delightedly: + +"Yes, we will call each other sister, for our relation is certainly a +kind of sisterhood. We are, like sisters, not connected directly, but +indirectly, though our relation to our common individuality, as if we +were fruit borne by the same tree in different seasons. To be sure," she +added regarding her blooming companion with a smile of tender admiration, +"we can scarcely be said to look as much alike as sisters commonly do, +but that is because there is not often a difference of more than forty +years in the ages of sisters." + +And so it was agreed that they should call each other sister. + +Although it was but one day that these two had been known to each other, +yet so naturally had Ida seemed drawn towards Miss Ludington, and so +spontaneous had been the outflow of the latter's long-stored tenderness +toward the girl, that they were already like persons who have been bosom +friends and confidants for years. + +In this wonderfully rapid growth of a close and tender intimacy, Miss +Ludington exultingly recognized the heart's testimony to the reality of +the mystic tie between them. + +So fit and natural had the presence of Ida under her roof already come to +seem, that she found herself half-forgetting, at times, the astounding +and tragic circumstances to which it was due. + +Absorbed in the wonder and happiness of her own experience, Miss +Ludington had barely given a thought to Paul during the day. Having been +constantly with Ida she had not, indeed, seen him, save at table, and had +failed to take note of his wobegone appearance. At any other time it +would have aroused her solicitude; but it was not strange that on this +day she should have had no thought save for herself and her other self. + +It had, indeed, been a day of strangely mingled emotions for Paul. + +Supposing a lover were separated from his mistress, and that the +privilege of being with her, and spending his days in sight of her, were +offered him by some fairy, but only on condition that all memory of him +should be blotted from her mind, and that she should see in him merely a +stranger--is it probable, however great might be the desire of such a +lover to behold his mistress, that he would consent to gratify it on +these terms? + +But it was with Paul as if he had done just this. That the sight of his +idol should have fallen to his lot on earth; that he should hear the +sound of her voice, and breathe the same air with her, was, on the one +hand, a felicity so undreamed of, a fortune so amazing, that he sometimes +wondered how he could enjoy it, and still retain his senses. + +But when he met her, and she returned his impassioned look with a mere +smile of civil recognition; when he spoke to her, and she answered him in +a tone of conventional politeness--he found it more than he could bear. + +The eyes of her picture were kinder than hers. He had, at least, been +able to comfort himself with the belief that, as a spirit, she had known +of his love, and accepted it. Now, by her incarnation, while his eyes had +gained their desire, his heart had lost its consolation. + +His condition of mind rapidly became desperate. He could not bear to be +in Ida's presence. Her friendly, formal accent was unendurable to him. +Their blank, unrecognizing expression, as they rested on him in mere +kindliness, made her lovely eyes awful to him as a Gorgon's. + +In the early evening he found Miss Ludington alone, and broke out to her: + +"For God's sake, can't you help me? I shall go mad if you don't!" + +"Why, what do you mean?" she exclaimed, in astonishment. +"Don't you see?" he cried. "She does not know me. I have lost her instead +of finding her. I, who have loved her ever since I was a baby, am no more +than a stranger to her. Can't you see how she looks at me? She has +learned to know you, but I am a stranger to her." + +"But how could she know you, Paul? She did not know me till it was +explained to her." + +"I know," he said. "I don't blame her, but at the same time I cannot +stand it. Can't you help me with her? Can't you tell her how I have loved +her, so that she may understand that at least?" + +"Poor Paul!" said Miss Ludington, soothingly. "In my own happiness I had +almost forgotten you. But I can see how hard it must be for you. I will +help you. I will tell her all the story. Oh, Paul! is she not beautiful? +She will love you, I know she will love you when she hears it, and how +happy you will be--happier than any man ever was! I will go to her now." + +And, leaving Paul vaguely encouraged by her confidence, she went to find +Ida. + +She came upon her in the sitting-room, intently pondering the picture +above the fireplace. + +"I want to tell you a love story, my sister,". she said. + +"Whose love story?" asked Ida. + +"Your own." + +"But I never had a love story or a lover. Nobody can possibly know that +better than you do." + +"I will show you that you are mistaken," said Miss Ludington, smiling. +"No one ever bad so fond or faithful a lover as yours. Sit down and I +will tell you your own love story, for the strangest thing of all is that +you do not know it yet." + +Beginning with Paul's baby fondness for her picture, she related to Ida +the whole story of his love for her, which had grown with his growth, +and, from a boyish sentiment, become the ruling passion of the man, +blinding him to the charms of living women, and making him a monk for her +sake. + +She described the effect upon him of the first suggestion that it might +be possible to communicate with her spirit, and how her presence on earth +was due to the enthusiasm with which he had insisted upon making the +attempt. + +Then she asked Ida to imagine what must be the anguish of such a lover on +finding that she did not know him--that he was nothing more than a +stranger to her. She told her how, in his desperation, he had appealed to +her to plead his case and to relate his story, that his mistress might at +least know his love, though she might not be able to return it. + +Ida had listened at first in sheer wonder, but as Miss Ludington went on +describing this great love, which all unseen she had inspired, to find +awaiting her full-grown on her return to earth, her cheek began to flush, +a soft smile played about her lips, and her eyes were fixed in tender +reverie. + +"Tell him to come to me," she said, gently, as Miss Ludington finished. + +When Paul entered, Ida was alone, standing in the centre of the room. + +He threw himself at her feet, and lifted the hem of her dress to his +lips. + +"Paul, my lover," she said softly. + +At this he seized her hand and covered it with kisses. She gently drew +him to his feet. He heard her say, "Forgive me, Paul; I did not know." + +Her warm breath mingled with his, and she kissed him on the lips. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +In the days that followed, Ida was the object of a devotion on the part +of Miss Ludington and Paul which it would be inadequate to describe as +anything less than sheer idolatry. Her experience was such as a goddess's +might be who should descend from heaven and take up her abode in bodily +form among her worshippers, accepting in person the devotion previously +lavished on her effigy. + +With Miss Ludington this devotion was the more intense as it was but a +sublimed form of selfishness, like that of the mother's to her child, +whom she feels to be a part, and the choicest part, of her own life. The +instinct of maternity, never gratified in her by the possession of +children, asserted itself toward this radiant girl, whose being was so +much closer to hers than even a child's could be, whose life was so +wonderfully her own and yet not her own, that, in loving her, self-love +became transfigured and adorable. She could not have told whether the +sense of their identity or their difference were the sweeter. + +Her delight in the girl's loveliness was a transcendent blending of a +woman's pleasure in her own beauty and a lover's admiration of it. She +had transferred to Ida all sense of personal identity excepting just +enough to taste the joy of loving, admiring, and serving her. + +To wait upon her was her greatest happiness. There was no service so +menial that she would not have been glad to perform it for her, and which +she did not grudge the servants the privilege of rendering. The happiness +which flooded her heart at this time was beyond description. It was not +such a happiness as enabled her to imagine what that of heaven might be, +but it was the happiness of heaven itself. + +As might be expected, the semi-sacredness attaching to Ida, as a being +something more than earthly in the circumstances of her advent, lent a +rare strain to Paul's passion. + +There is nothing sweeter to a lover than to feel that his mistress is of +a higher nature and a finer quality than himself. With many lovers, no +doubt, this feeling is but the delusion of a fond fancy, having no basis +in any real superiority on the part of the loved one. But the mystery +surrounding Ida would have tinged the devotion of the most prosaic lover +with an unusual sentiment of awe. + +Paul compared himself with those fortunate youths of antiquity who were +beloved by the goddesses of Olympus, and in whose hearts religious +adoration and the passion of love blended in one emotion. + +Ever since that night when her heart had been melted by the story of his +love, Ida had treated him with the graciousness which a maiden accords to +an accepted lover. But far from claiming the privileges which he might +apparently have enjoyed, it seemed to him presumption enough and +happiness enough to kiss her dress, her sleeve, a tress of her hair, or, +at most, her hand, and to dream of her lips. + +The dazed appearance, as of one doubtful of herself and all about her, +which Ida had worn the night when she was brought home, had now wholly +passed away. But a certain pensiveness remained. Her smiles were the +smiles of affection not of gaiety, and there was always a shadow in her +eyes. It was as if the recollection of the mystery from which her life +had emerged were never absent from her mind. + +Still she took so much pleasure in her daily drives with Miss Ludington +that the latter ordered a pony chaise for her special use, and when Paul +arranged a croquet set on the village green, she permitted him to teach +her the game, and even showed some interest in it. + +When the first dresses which had been ordered for her came home, she was +delighted as any girl must have been, for they were the richest and most +beautiful fabrics that money could buy; but Miss Ludington seemed, of the +two, far the more pleased. + +For herself she had cared nothing for dress. In forty years she had not +given a thought to personal adornment, but Ida's toilet became her most +absorbing preoccupation. On her account she became a close student of the +fashion-papers, and but for the girl's protests would have bought her a +new dress at least every day. + +She would have liked Ida to change her costume a dozen times between +morning and evening, and asked no better than to serve as her +dressing-maid. To brush and braid her shining hair, stealthily kissing it +the while; to array her in sheeny satins and airy muslins; to hang jewels +upon her neck, and clasp bracelets upon her wrists, and to admire and +caress the completed work of her hands, constituted an occupation which +she would have liked to make perpetual. + +When Miss Ludington's mother had died she had left to her daughter, then +a young girl, all her jewels, including a rather flue set of diamonds. +When one day Miss Ludington took the gems from the box in which they had +been hidden away for half a lifetime, and hung them upon Ida, saying, +"These are yours, my sister," the girl protested, albeit with +scintillating eyes, against the greatness of the gift. + +"Why, my darling, they are yours," replied Miss Ludington. "I am not +making you a gift. It was to you that mother gave them. I only return you +your own. When you left the world I inherited them from you, and now that +you have come back I return them to you." + +And so the girl was fain to keep them. + +Thus it had come about that before Ida had been in the house a week it +was no longer as a mystery, or, at least, as an awe-inspiring mystery, +but as an ineffably dear and precious reality, that her presence was +felt. Had a stranger chanced to come there on a visit, at that time, he +would doubtless have been struck with the fact that a young girl was the +central figure of the household, around whom its other members revolved; +but it is probable that this fact, in itself not unparalleled in American +households, would have seemed to such an observer sufficiently explained +by the unusual gentleness and beauty of the girl herself. The necessity +of a supernatural explanation certainly would not have occurred to him. + +The servants had been merely informed that Ida was a relative of Miss +Ludington's, and though they were very curious as to what connection she +might be, their speculations did not extend beyond the commonly +recognized modes of relationship. The housekeeper, indeed, who had been +in Miss Ludington's employ many years, and supposed she knew all about +the family, thought it strange that she could recall no young lady +relative answering to Ida's description. But as she found that her most +ingenious efforts entirely failed to extract any information on the +subject from Miss Ludington, Paul, or Ida herself, she was obliged, like +the rest, to accept the bare fact that the new-comer was Miss Ida +Ludington, and that she was somehow related to Miss Ludington; a fact +speedily supplemented by the discovery that to please Miss Ida was the +surest way to the favour of Miss Ludington and Mr. Paul. + +On that score, however, there was no need of any special inducement, +Ida's sweet face, and gracious, considerate ways, having already made her +a favourite with all who were attached to the household. + +It was ten days or a fortnight after Ida had been in the house that Miss +Ludington received a letter from Dr. Hull, in which that gentleman said +that he should do himself the honour of calling on her the following day. + +He said she might be interested to know that he had already received +several communications from Mrs. Legrand, through mediums, in which she +had declared herself well content to have died in demonstrating so great +a truth as that immortality is not individual, but personal. She +considered herself to be most fortunate in that her death had not been a +barren one, as most deaths are; but that in dying, she had been permitted +to become the second mother of another, and far brighter life than hers +had been. She felt that she had made a grand barter for her own earthly +existence, which had been so sick and weary. + +The bulk of Dr. Hull's letter, which was quite a long one, consisted of +further quotations from Mrs. Legrand's communications. + +She said that she had been welcomed by a great multitude of spirits, who +to her had owed the beginning of their recognition on earth, and that +their joy over this discovery, which should bring consolation to many +mournful mortals, as well as to themselves, was only equalled by their +wonder that it had not been made years before. It appeared that, since +intercourse between the two worlds had first begun, it had been the +constant effort of the spirits to teach this truth to men; but the stupid +refusal of the latter to comprehend had till now baffled every attempt. +How it had been possible that men who had reached the point of believing +in immortality at all should be content to rest in the inadequate and +preposterous conception that it only attached to the latest phase of the +individual, was the standing wonder of the spirit world. + +It was as if one should throw away the contents of a cup of wine, and +carefully preserve the dregs in the bottom. + +That so loose an association of personalities as the individual, and +those personalities so utterly diverse, no two of them even alive at the +same time, should have impressed even the most casual observer as a unit +of being--a single person--was accounted a marvel by the angels. If men +had believed all the members of a family to have but one soul among them, +their mistake would have been more excusable, for the members of a family +are, at least, alive at the same time, while the persons of an individual +are not even that. + +Dr. Hull said that he had gathered from Mrs. Legrand's communications +that she had seen many things which would teach mortals not to grieve for +their departed friends, as for shades exiled to a world of strangers. To +such mourners she sent word that their own past selves, who have likewise +vanished from the earth, are keeping their dear dead company in heaven. +And far more congenial company to them are these past selves than their +present selves would be, who, through years and changes since their +separation, have often grown out of sympathy with the departed, as they +will find when they shall meet them. The aged husband, who has mourned +all his life the bride taken from him in girlhood, will find himself +well-nigh a stranger to her, and his mourning to have been superfluous; +for all these years his own former self, the husband of her youth, has +borne her company. + +Dr. Hull said, in closing, that, as probably Miss Ludington would +presume, his particular motive in making bold to break in upon her +privacy was a desire, which he was sure she would not confound with +vulgar curiosity, to see again the young lady who had succeeded to his +friend's earthly life in so wonderful a manner, and to learn, what, if +any, were the later developments in her case. He was preparing a book +upon the subject, in which, of course without giving the true names, he +intended to make the facts of the case known in the world. Its +publication, he felt assured, would mark a new departure in spiritualism. + +Miss Ludington read the letter aloud to Ida and Paul, as all three sat +together in the gloaming on the piazza. As Paul from time to time, during +the reading, glanced at Ida he noticed that she kept her face averted. + +"I am glad," said Miss Ludington, as she finished the letter, "that Mrs. +Legrand is happy. It is so hard to realize that about the dead. The +feeling that, our happiness was purchased by her death has been the only +cloud upon it. And yet it would be strange indeed if she were not happy. +As she says, she did not die a barren death, but in giving birth. And it +was no tiny infant's existence, of doubtful value, that she exchanged her +life for, but a woman's in the fulness of her youth and beauty. Such a +destiny as hers never fell to a mother before." + +"Never before," echoed Paul, rising to his feet in an access of +enthusiasm; "but who shall say that it may not often fall to the lot of +women in the ages to come, as the relations between the worlds of men and +of spirits, become more fully known? The dark and unknown path that Ida +trod that night back to our world will, doubtless, in future times, +become a beaten and lighted way. This woman through whom she lives again +did not die of her own choice; but I do not find it incredible that many +women will hereafter be found willing and eager to die as she did, to +bring back to earth the good, the wise, the heroic, and beloved. The +world will never need to lose its heroes then, for there will never lack +ardent and devoted women to contend for such crowns of motherhood." + +He stopped abruptly, for be had observed that Ida's face betrayed acute +distress. + +"Forgive me," he said. "You do not like us to talk of this." + +"I think I do not," she replied, in a low voice, without looking up. "It +affects me very strangely to think about it much. I would like to forget +it if I could and feel that I am like other people." + +She had, in fact, shown a marked and increasing indisposition almost from +the first to discuss the events of that wonderful night at Mrs. +Legrand's. After having had the circumstances once fully explained to +her, she had never since referred to them of her own accord. + +She apparently had the shrinking which any person, and especially a +woman, would naturally have from the idea of being regarded as something +abnormal and uncanny, and mingled with this was, perhaps, a certain +sacred shamefacedness, at the thought that this most intimate and vital +mystery of her second birth had been witnessed and was the subject of +curious speculations. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +The ladies were out driving, the following afternoon, when Dr. Hull +arrived, but Paul was at home. He brought out some cigars, and they made +themselves comfortable on the piazza. + +Dr. Hull was full of questions about Ida? how she appeared; what +relations had established themselves between Miss Ludington and her; +whether she showed any memory whatever of her disembodied state; whether +the knowledge of the mystery involving her seemed in any way to affect +her spirits or temper, or to set her apart in her own estimation from +others, with many other acute and carefully considered queries calculated +to elicit the facts of her mental and spiritual condition? + +"There is one point," said the doctor, "about which I am particularly +curious. How is it with her memory of her former life on earth? Does it +break off suddenly, as if on some particular day or hour her spirit had +made way for its successor, and passed away from earth?" + +"On the contrary," said Paul, "she has intimated, in talking over the +past with Miss Ludington, that the memory of her life on earth is clear +and precise during its earlier portions, but that toward the last it +grows hazy and indistinct." + +"Exactly," broke in the doctor. "Just as if her personality had a little +overlapped and melted at the edge into that which followed it. Yes, it is +as I thought it might be. Youth, or childhood, or infancy, or any other +epoch of life, does not abruptly cease and give place to another. Their +souls are gradually withdrawn as the light is withdrawn from the sky at +evening, and a space of twilight renders the transition from one to the +other perceptible only in the result, not in the process. This I think is +a view of the matter, that is corroborated by the testimony of our own +consciousness, don't you, Mr. De Riemer?" + +"On the whole, yes," replied Paul. "And still, if she had said that the +severing of her personality from that which succeeded it was sharp and +clearly defined, so that up to a certain day, or even hour, her memory +was full and distinct, and then became a blank, there are passages in my +own experience, and I think in that of many persons, which her statement +would have made comprehensible. I think that to many, perhaps to all +persons of reflective turn of mind, there come days, even hours, when +they feel that they have suddenly passed from one epoch of life into +another. A voice says in their hearts with unmistakable clearness, +'Yesterday I was young; to day I am young no longer.' There is also +sometimes a day, I think, when the middle-aged man becomes suddenly aware +that he is old. Who shall deny the truth of these intuitions, or say that +it is not in that very day and hour that the spirit of youth or of +maturity takes its flight?" + +"By the way," said Dr. Hull, "have you ever speculated on the probable +number of the souls of an individual? It is an interesting question." + +"I suppose that the number may greatly differ in different Individuals," +replied Paul. "In individuals of many-sided minds and versatile +dispositions, there are, perhaps, more distinct personalities than +constitute an individual of less complex character. But how many in +either case only God can tell. Who can say? It may be that with every +breath which I expire a soul or spiritual impression of myself is sent +forth. The universe is large enough even for that. Such may at least be +the case in moments of special intensity, when we live, as we say, a year +in an hour." + +They smoked on awhile in silence. Presently Paul said, "When the world +comes to recognize the composite character of the individual, that it is +composed of not one, but many persons, a new department will be added to +ethics, relating to the duties of the successive selves of an individual +to one another. It will be recognized, on the one hand, that it is the +duty of a man to fulfil all reasonable obligations incurred by his past +selves, on the same principle that a pious son fulfils the equitable +obligations incurred by a parent. This duty is, indeed, recognized +to-day, although not on the correct basis. As regards the ethical +relation of a man to the selves who succeed him, a wholly new idea will +be introduced. It will be seen that the duty of a man to lead a wise +life, to be prudent, to make the most of his powers, to maintain a good +name, is not a duty to himself, merely an enlightened selfishness, as it +is now called, but a genuine form of altruism, a duty to others, as truly +as if those others bore different names instead of succeeding to his +name. It will be seen that a man's duty to his later selves is like the +duty of a father to his helpless children: to provide for their +inheritance, to see that he leaves them a sound body and a good name, if +nothing more. It will be perceived that the man who is charitably called +'his own worst enemy,' is not only no better, but worse, than if he were +the enemy of his neighbours, because he is blasting coming lives that +have a far nearer claim upon him than any neighbour can have. + +"There will arise, also, in that day, I fancy," said Paul, some rather +delicate questions, as to how far a man may properly bind his future +selves by pledges and engagements which he has no means of knowing will +meet with their approval, and which may quite possibly prove intolerable +yokes to them." + +"Ah!" exclaimed the doctor, "that is indeed an interesting point. And, +meanwhile, I should say the intelligible discussion of these questions +will involve a modification in grammatical usage. If we believe that our +present selves are distinct persons from our past selves, it is +manifestly improper to use the first person in speaking of our past +selves. Either the third person must be used, or some new grammatical +form invented." + +"Yes," said Paul. "If entire accuracy is sought the first person cannot +be properly employed by any one in referring either to his past or his +future selves, to what has been done or to what will be done by them." + +At this moment the carriage drew up before the house, and Paul helped the +ladies out. + +Miss Ludington greeted Dr. Hull cordially, and stopped upon the piazza in +hat and shawl to talk with him. But Ida merely bowed stiffly, with +lowered eyes, and passed within. + +Before they were called to tea Paul found an opportunity to tell the +doctor how sensitive Ida was to any discussion of the mystery connected +with her, and to suggest that at table any direct reference to the +subject should be avoided. + +The expression of disappointment on Dr. Hull's countenance seemed to +indicate that he had anticipated thoroughly cross-questioning her in the +interest of spiritual science; but he said that he would regard Paul's +suggestion, and even admitted that it was, perhaps, natural she should +feel as she did, although he had not anticipated it. + +At the table, therefore, Ida was spared any direct reference to herself +as a phenomenon, and although Dr. Hull talked of nothing hut spiritualism +and the immortality of past selves, it was in their broad and general +aspects that the subjects were discussed. + +"Your nephew," he said to Miss Ludington, "has evidently given much time +and profound thought to these matters; and although I am an old man, and +have been more interested in the spiritual than the material universe for +these many years, I was glad of an opportunity to sit at his feet this +afternoon." + +Turning to Paul, he added, "What you were saying about the possibility +that souls, or, at least, spiritual impressions, destined to eternity, +are given forth by us constantly, as if at every breath, is wonderfully +borne out in a passage from a communication I had from Mrs. Legrand +yesterday, to which I meant to have alluded at the time you were +speaking. She said that those who supposed that the spirit-land contained +only one soul for every individual that had. ever lived had no conception +of its vastness, and that the stream of souls constantly ascending is +like a thick mist rising from all the earth. The phrase struck me as +strangely strong, but I can conceive now how she might have come to use +it. + +"What is your conjecture, or have you none at all," he added, after a +moment's thought, still addressing Paul, "as to the relation which will +exist in the spirit-land among the several souls of the same individual?" + +"It seems to me," said Paul, "that the souls of an individual, being +contemporaneous over there, and all together in the eternal present, will +be capable of blending in a unity which here on earth, where one is gone +before another comes, is impossible. The result of such a blending would +be a being which, in stead of shining with the single ray of a soul on +earth, would blaze from a hundred facets simultaneously. The word +"individual," as applied here on earth, is a misuse of language. It is +absurd to call that an individual which every hour divides. The, earthly +stage of human life is so small that there is room for but one of the +persons of an individual upon it at one time. The past and future selves +have to wait in the side scenes. But over there the stage is larger. +There will be room for all at once. The idea of an individual, all whose +personalities are contemporaneous, may there be realized, and such an +individual would be, by any earthly measurement, a god. + +"But there are many individuals," he pursued after a pause, "of which we +cannot imagine a blending of the successive persons to be possible. +There, for instance, are cases where there exist radical and bitter +oppositions and differences of character, and propensity between the +youth and the manhood of the individual. In the case of such ill-assorted +personalities a divorce _ex vinculo individui_ may be the only remedy; +and, possibly, the parties to it maybe sent back to earth, to take their +chances of finding more congenial companions." + +Ida had not said a word during the time they had sat at table. She had, +indeed, scarcely lifted her eyes from her plate. + +As they rose she challenged Paul to a game at croquet, for which the +twilight left ample opportunity. + +Miss Ludington and Dr. Hull sat upon the piazza in full view of the +players. + +"What do you call her?" he asked, abruptly, after a pause in their +conversation. + +"Why, we call her Ida, of course," replied Miss Ludington, with some +surprise. "What else could we call her? Is not her name Ida Ludington?" + +"On my own account," said Dr. Hull, "I should not have needed to ask you, +because I am acquainted with the circumstances of the reassumption of her +earthly life and name, but how would you introduce her to one who was not +so acquainted--to any one, in fact, besides yourself, your nephew, and +myself?" + +"In the same way, I suppose," replied Miss Ludington. + +"Precisely," said the doctor "but if they were acquainted with your +family, or if they took any special interest in her, would they not want +to know what was the nature of her relationship to you? She could not be +your daughter. They would ask what was her connection with your family. +To tell them the truth would be of no use at all, for no one on earth +would believe what we know to be true, nor could I blame them, for I, +myself, would not have believed it if I had not been a witness." + +Miss Ludington was silent a while. Then she said: "It does not matter; we +see few, I may say no strangers, or even acquaintances; we live alone. It +is enough that we know her." + +"Yes," replied the doctor. "It is, indeed, quite another thing to what it +would be if you had a large circle of acquaintances. So long as you live, +it is not important, and I presume that your health is good." + +"What is it that is not important?" demanded Miss Ludington. + +"Why that she should have a name," replied the doctor, lifting his +eyebrows with an expression of slight surprise. "Unfortunately, the +courts do not recognize such a relation as exists between you and this +young lady. You are the only Miss Ludington in the eye of the law, and +she is non-existent, or, at least, an anonymous person. She has not so +much as a-name sign on a hotel-register. But so long as you live to look +after her she is not likely to suffer." + +"But I may die!" exclaimed Miss Ludington. + +"In that case it would be rather awkward for her," said the doctor. "She +would die with you in the eye of the law" and here he branched off into +rather a fantastical discourse on the oddities and quiddities of the law +and lawyers, against whom he seemed to have a great grudge. + +"But, Dr. Hull, what can I do about it?" said Miss Ludington, as he +quieted down. + +"Excuse me. About what?" + +"How can I give her a name in the eye of the law?" + +"Oh--ah--exactly? Well, that's easy enough; there are two ways. You can +adopt her, or some young fellow can marry her, and if I were a young +man--if you'll excuse an old gentleman for the remark--it would not be my +fault if she were not provided with a legal title very soon." + +Declining Miss Ludington's proposal to send him to the ferry in her +carriage, the doctor, soon after, took his leave. + +He paused as he passed the croquet-ground and stood watching the players. +It came Ida's turn, and he waited to see her play. It was a very easy +shot which she had to make; she missed it badly. He bade them +good-evening, and went on. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + +It was but a few days after Dr. Hull's visit that Miss Ludington had a +sudden illness, lasting several days, which, during its crisis, caused +much alarm. + +Ida turned all the servants out of the sick-room and constituted herself +nurse, watcher, and chambermaid, if she lay down at all it was only after +leaving a substitute charged to call her upon the slightest occasion. +Light and quick of step, strong and gentle of hand, patient, tireless, +and tender, she showed herself an angel of the sick-room. + +There was, indeed, something almost eager in the manner in which she +seized upon this opportunity of devoting herself to Miss Ludington, and +the zeal with which she made the most of every possibility of rendering +her a service. She seemed, in fact, almost sorry when the patient had no +further need of her especial attendance. + +To Miss Ludington the revelation that she was so dear to Ida was +profoundly affecting. It was natural that she should adore Ida, but that +Ida should be correspondingly devoted to her touched her in proportion to +its unexpectedness. "I should be glad to be sick always, with you to +nurse me, my sister," she said. Whenever she addressed Ida by this title +of sister her voice lingered upon the syllables as if she were striving +to realize all the mysterious closeness and tenderness of the relation +between them which its use implied. + +The period of convalescence, during which Miss Ludington sat in her room, +lasted several days, and one evening she sent for Paul. She was alone +when he came in, and after he had inquired after her condition, she +motioned him to a chair. + +"Sit down, Paul," she said; "I want to have a little talk with you." + +He sat down and she went on: "I find that I have been greatly enfeebled +by this attack, and though the doctor tells me I may regain reasonable +health, he warns me that I shall not live for ever, and that when I die I +may die without much warning." + +Expressions of mingled grief, surprise, and incredulity from Paul +interrupted her at this point, but she presently went on:-- + +"It is really nothing to distress yourself over, my dear child. He does +not say that I may not live on indefinitely, but only that when death +comes he is likely to enter without knocking, and I'm sure any sensible +person would much rather have it so. It was of Ida that I wanted to speak +to you. Since I have been sick, and especially since what the doctor told +me, I have been thinking what would become of her if I should die. Did +you ever consider, Paul, that she has not even a name? The world does not +recognize the way by which she came back into it, and in the eye of the +law she has no right to the name of Ida Ludington, or to any other." + +"I suppose not," said Paul. + +"It does not matter while I live," pursued Miss Ludington; "but what if I +should die?" + +"Let us not talk of that," replied Paul, "or think of it. Yet even in +that event I should be here to protect her." + +Miss Ludington regarded the young man for some moments without speaking, +and then, as a slight colour tinged her cheek she said, "Paul, do you +love her?" + +"Do you need to ask me that?" he answered. + +"No, I do not," she replied; and then as she cast down her eyes, and the +colour in her cheek grew deeper, she went on: "You know, Paul, that, as +society is constituted, there is but one way in which a young man can +protect a young girl who is not his relative, and that is by marrying +her. Have you thought of that?" + +Paul's face flushed a deep crimson, and his forehead reddened to the +roots of the hair; after which the colour receded, and he became quite +pale; and then he flushed again deeper than before, till his eyes became +congested, and he saw Miss Ludington sitting there before him, with +downcast eyes and a spot of colour in either cheek, as through a fiery +mist. + +Yes, he had thought of it. + +The idea that, being of mystery though she was, Ida was still a woman, +and that he might one day possess her as other men possess their wives, +had come to him, but it had caused such an ungovernable ferment in his +blood, and savoured withal of such temerity, that he had been fairly +afraid to indulge it. In the horizon of his mind it had hovered as a +dream of unimaginable felicity which might some day in the far future +come to pass; but that was all. + +Finally he said, in a husky voice, "I love her." + +"I know you do," replied Miss Ludington. "No one but myself knows how you +have loved her. You are the only man in the world worthy of her, but you +are worthy even of her." + +"But she would not marry me," said Paul. "She is very good to me, but she +has never thought of such a thing. It is I that love her, and she is very +good to let me; but she does not love me. How should she?" + +"I think she does," said Miss Ludington, with a tone of quiet assurance. +"I have never said anything to her about it; but I have observed her. A +woman can generally read a woman in that particular, and it would be +especially strange if I could not read her. I do not think that you need +to be afraid of her answer. I shall not urge her by a word; but if she is +willing to be your wife, it will be by far the best way her future could +be provided for. Then, however soon I might die, she would not miss me." + +Paul had heard distinctly only her first words, in which she had stated +her belief that Ida loved him and would probably be his wife. This +intimation had set up such a turmoil in his brain that he had not been +able to follow what she had subsequently said. There was a roaring in his +ears. Her voice seemed to come from very far away, nor did he remember +how long afterwards it was that he left her. + +As he went downstairs the door of the sitting-room stood open, and he +looked in. Ida sat there reading. + +The weather was very warm, and her dress was some gauzy stuff of a +pale-green tint which set off her yellow hair and bare arms and throat +with sumptuous effect. She was a ravishing symphony in white, pale green, +and gold. + +She had not heard his approach, and was unconscious of his gaze. As he +thought of her as the woman who might be his wife, he grew so faint with +love, so intimidated with a sense of his presumption in hoping to possess +this glorious creature, that, not daring to enter, he fled out into the +darkness to compose himself. + +No experience of miscellaneous flirtations, or more or less innocent +dalliance, had ever weakened the witchery of woman's charms to him, or +dulled the keenness of his sensibility to the heaven she can bestow. For +an hour he wandered about the dark and silent village street, waiting for +the tumult of his emotions to subside sufficiently to leave him in some +degree master of himself. When at last he returned to the house, his +nerves strung with the resolution to put his fortune to the test, Ida was +still in the sitting-room where he had left her. + +Miss Ludington's conversation with Paul had left her in a mood scarcely +less agitated than his. The sensation with which she had watched his +devotion to Ida during the past weeks had been a sort of double-consciousness +as if it were herself whom Paul was wooing, although at the same time she +was a spectator. The thoughts and emotions which she ascribed to Ida +agitated her almost as if they had been experienced in her proper person. + +It was a fancy of hers that between herself and Ida there existed a +species of clairvoyance, which enabled her to know what was passing in +the latter's mind--a completeness of rapport never realized between any +other two minds, but nothing more than might be expected to attend such a +relationship as theirs, being a foretaste of the tie that joins the +several souls of an individual in heaven. She had never bad a serious +love affair in her life, but now, in her old age, she was passing through +a genuine experience of the tender passion through her sympathetic +identification with Ida. + +As she sat in her chamber after Paul had gone, fancying herself in Ida's +place, imagining what she would hear him say, what would be her feelings, +and what she would answer, her cheeks flushed, her breath came quickly, +and there was a dew like that of dreaming girlhood in her faded eyes. + +She was still flushing and trembling when there came a soft knock on her +door, and Paul and Ida stood before her. + +Ida was blushing deeply, with downcast face, and the long lashes hid her +eyes. She stood slightly bending forward, her long beautifully moulded +arms hanging straight down before her. She looked like a beautiful +captive, and Paul, as he clasped her waist with his arm, and held one of +her hands in his, looked the proudest of conquerors. + +"I did not know but I might be dreaming it," he said, "and so I brought +her for you to see. She says she will be my wife" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + +Paul's courtship of Ida really began the night when he took her in his +arms as his promised wife, for although she had called him her lover +before, his devotion, while impassioned enough, had been too distant and +wholly reverential to be called a wooing. But the night of their +betrothal his love had caught from her lips a fire that was of earth, and +it was no longer as a semi-spiritual being that he worshipped her, but as +a woman whom it was no sacrilege to kiss a thousand times a day, not upon +her hand, her sleeve, or the hem of her dress, but full upon the soft +warm mouth. + +This transformation of the devotee into the lover on his part was +attended by a corresponding change in Ida's manner toward him. A model +relieved from a strained pose could not show more evident relief than she +did in stepping down from the pedestal of a tutelary saint, where he had +placed her, to be loved and caressed like an ordinary woman, for if the +love had at first been all on his side, it certainly was not now. + +"I'm so glad," she said one day, "that you have done with worshipping me. +Think of your humbling yourself before me, you who are a hundred thousand +times better, and wiser, and greater than I. Oh, Paul it is I who ought +to worship you, and who am not good enough to kiss you," and before he +could prevent her she had caught his hand, and, bowing her face over it, +had kissed it. As he drew it away he felt that there were tears upon it. +It was evening, and he could not see her face distinctly. + +"Darling," he exclaimed, "what is the trouble?" + +"Oh, nothing at all!" she replied. "It is because I am in love, I +suppose." + +Whether it was because she was in love or not it is certain that she took +to crying very often during these days. Her manner with her lover, too, +was often strangely moody. Sometimes she would display a gaiety that was +almost feverish, and shortly after, perhaps, he would surprise her in +tears. But she always declared that she was not unhappy; and, unable to +conceive of any reason why she should be, Paul was fain to conceive that +she was merely nervous. + +The absorption of the lovers in each other's society naturally left Miss +Ludington more often alone than before; but Ida was very far from +neglecting her for her lover. Her care for her since her sickness was +such as a daughter might give to a beloved and invalid mother. It was an +attention such as the lonely old lady had never enjoyed in her life, or +looked for, and would have been most grateful to have had from any one, +but how much more from Ida! + +The village street was a rarely romantic promenade on moonlight evenings, +and the twanging of Paul's guitar was often heard till after midnight +from the meeting-house steps, which were a favourite resort with the +lovers. Those steps, in the Hilton of Miss Ludington's girlhood, had been +a very popular locality with sentimental couples, and she well remembered +certain short-lived romances of Ida's first life on earth with which they +had been associated. One night, when the young people had lingered there +later than usual, Miss Ludington put on her shawl and stepped across the +green to warn them that it was time for even lovers to be abed. + +As she approached, Paul was seated on the lower step, touching his +guitar, and facing Ida, who sat on the step above leaning back against a +pillar. A blotch of moonlight fell upon her dreamy, upturned face. One +hand lay in her lap, and the fingers of the other were idly playing with +a tress of hair that had fallen over her bosom. How well Miss Ludington +remembered that attitude, and even the habit of playing with her hair +which Ida had in the days so long gone by. + +She stood in the shadow watching her till Paul ceased playing. Then she +advanced and spoke to them. + +"I have been standing here looking at you, my sister," she said. "I have +been trying to imagine how strangely it must come over you that forty +years ago you sat here as you sit here now, just as young and beautiful +then as now, and Paul not then born, even his parents children at that +time." + +Ida bent down her head and replied, in scarcely audible tones, "I do not +like to think of those days." + +"And I don't like to think of them," echoed Paul, with a curious +sensation of jealousy, not the first of the kind that he had experienced +in imagining the former life of his darling. "I do not like to think who +may have sat at her feet then. I, too, would like to forget these days." + +Ida bent her head still lower and said nothing. It was Miss Ludington who +spoke. + +"You have no ground to feel so," she said. "I can bear her witness--and +what better witness could you have?--that till now she never knew what it +is to love, It is true she sat here then as now, and there were others at +her feet, drawn by the same beauty that has drawn you, but their voices +never touched her heart. She had to come back again to earth to learn +what love is." + +Paul bent contritely, and kissed Ida's feet as she sat above him, +murmuring, "Forgive me!" Her hand sought his and pressed it with +convulsive strength. + +They walked home in silence, gentle Miss Ludington inwardly reproaching +herself for the embarrassment her words had seemed to cause Ida. She +examined her memory afresh. It was very long ago; she was growing old, +and it was natural to suppose that her memory might be losing in +distinctness. Perhaps some, of the sweethearts of that far away time had +been a little nearer, a little dearer, to Ida than to her own fading +memory they seemed to have been. Perhaps she had done a stupid thing in +referring to those days. + +Meanwhile, despite of circumstances that would seem peculiarly favourable +to a young girl's happiness, Ida's tendency to melancholy was increasing +upon her at a rate which began to cause Miss Ludington as well as Paul +serious anxiety. She had indeed been pensive from the first, but the +expression of her face, when in repose, had of late become one of +profound dejection. The shadow which they had never been able to banish +from her eyes had deepened into a look of habitual sadness. Coming upon +her unexpectedly, both Miss Ludington and Paul had several times found +her in tears, which she would not or could not explain. Not infrequently, +when she was alone with her lover, and they had been silent awhile, he +had looked up to find her eyes fixed upon him and brimming with tears, +and at other times, when he was in the very act of caressing her, she +would burst out crying, and sob in his arms. + +But her unaccountable reluctance to consent to any definite arrangement +for her marriage with the man she tenderly loved, and had promised to +wed, was the most marked symptom of something hysterical in her +condition. + +Some three weeks had elapsed since she had given her word to be Paul's +wife, but though he had repeatedly begged her to name a day for their +wedding, he had entirely failed to obtain any satisfactory reply. When he +grew importunate, the only effect was to set her to crying, as if her +heart would break. He was completely perplexed. If she did not love him +her conduct would be readily explainable; but that she was in love with +him, and very much in love with him, he had increasing evidence every +day. + +She gave nothing that could be called a reason for refusing to say when +she would marry him, though she talked feebly of its being so soon, and +of not being ready; but when he reminded her of the special +considerations that made delay inexpedient, of her own peculiarly +unprotected condition, and of Miss Ludington's uncertain health, and +desire to see them married as soon as possible, she attempted no reply, +but took refuge in tears, leaving him no choice but to relinquish the +question, and devote himself to soothing her. + +When, finally, Miss Ludington asked Paul what were their plans, and he +told her of Ida's strange behaviour, they took troubled counsel together +concerning her. + +It was evident that she was in a state of high nervous tension, and her +conduct must be attributed to that. Nor was it strange that the +experiences through which she had passed in the last month or two, +supplemented by the agitations of so extraordinary a love affair, should +have left her in a condition of abnormal excitability. + +"She must not be hurried," said Miss Ludington. "She has promised to be +your wife, and you know that she loves you; that ought to be enough to +give you patience to wait. Why, Paul, you loved her all your life up to +the last month without even seeing her, and did not think the time long." + +"You forget," he replied, "that it is seeing her which makes it so hard +to wait." + +A day or two later, when she chanced to be sitting alone with her in the +afternoon, Miss Ludington said: "When are you and Paul to be married?" + +"It is not decided yet," Ida replied, falteringly. + +"Has not Paul spoken to you about it?" + +"Oh, yes!" + +"I had hoped that you would have been married before this," said Miss +Ludington, after a pause. "You know why I am so anxious that there should +be no delay in assuring your position. The time is short I know, but the +reasons against postponement are strong, and if you love him I. cannot +see why you should hesitate. Perhaps you are not quite sure that you do +love him. A girl ought to be sure of that." + +"Oh, I am quite sure of that! I love him with all my heart," exclaimed +Ida, and began to cry. + +Miss Ludington sat down beside her, and, drawing the girl's head to her +shoulder, tried to soothe her; but her gentleness only made Ida sob more +vehemently. + +Presently the elder lady said, "You are nervous, my little sister, don't +cry, now. We won't talk about it any more. I did not intend to say a word +to urge you against your wishes, but only to find out what they were. You +shall wait as long as you please before marrying him, and he shall not +tease you. Meanwhile I will see to it that, if I should die, you will be +left secure and well provided for, even if you never marry any one." + +"What do you mean?" asked Ida, raising her head and manifesting a sudden +interest. + +"I will adopt you as my daughter," said Miss Ludington, cheerily. "Won't +it be odd, pretending that you are my daughter, and that instead of +coming into the world before me you came in after me? But it is the only +way by which I can give you a legal title to the name of Ida Ludington, +although it is yours already by a claim prior to mine. I would rather see +you Paul's wife, and under his protection, but this arrangement will +secure your safety. You see, until you have a legal name I cannot make +you my heir, or even leave you a dollar." + +"Do you mean that you want to make me your heir?" exclaimed Ida. + +"Of course," said Miss Ludington. "What else could I think of doing? Even +if you had married Paul, do you suppose I would have wished to have you +dependent on him? I should then have left you a fortune under the name of +Mrs. De Riemer. As it is, I shall leave it to my adopted daughter, Ida +Ludington. That is the only difference. + +"But, Paul?" + +"Don't fret about Paul," replied Miss Ludington. "I shall not neglect +him. I have a great deal of money, and am able to provide abundantly for +you both." + +"Oh, do not do this thing! I beg you will not," cried Ida, seizing Miss +Ludington's hands, and looking into her face with an almost frenzied +expression of appeal. "I do not want your money. Don't give it to me. I +can't bear to have you. You have given me so much, and you are so good to +me!--and that I should rob Paul, too! Oh, no I you must not do it; I will +never let you." + +"But, my darling," said Miss Ludington, soothingly, "think what you are +to me, and what I am to you. Of course you cannot be conscious of our +relation, in the absolute way I am; through the memory I have of you. I +can only prove what I am to you by argument and evidence, but surely I +have fully proved it, and you must not let yourself doubt it; that would +be most cruel. To whom should I leave my money if not to you? Are we not +nearer kin than two persons ever were on earth before? What have been the +claims of all other heirs since property was inherited compared with +yours? Have I not inherited from you all I am--my very personality--and +should not you be my heir? + +"And remember," she went on, "it is not only as my heir that you have a +claim on me; your claim would be almost as great if you were neither near +nor dear to me. It was through my action that you were called back, +without any will of your own, to resume the life which you had once +finished on earth. I did not intend or anticipate that result, to be +sure, but I am not the less responsible for it and being thus +responsible, though you had been a stranger to me instead of my other +self, I should be under the most solemn obligation to guard and protect +the life I had imposed on you." + +While Miss Ludington was speaking Ida's tears had ceased to flow, and she +had become quite calm. She seemed to have been impressed by what Miss +Ludington had said. At least she offered no further opposition to the +plan proposed. + +"I am very anxious to lose no time," said Miss Ludington, presently, "and +I think we had better drive into Brooklyn the first thing to-morrow +morning, and see my lawyer about the necessary legal proceedings." + +"Just as you please," said Ida, and presently, pleading a nervous +headache, she went to her room and remained there the rest of the +afternoon. + +Meanwhile Paul had seen Miss Ludington, and she had told him of her talk +with Ida, and its result. The young man was beside himself with chagrin, +humiliation, and baffled love. The fact that Ida had consented to the +plan of adoption showed beyond doubt that she had given up all idea of +being his wife, at least for the present, and possibly of ever marrying +him at all. + +Why had she dealt with him so strangely? Why had she used him with such +cruel caprice? Was ever a man treated so perversely by a woman who loved +him? Miss Ludington could only shake her head as be poured out his +complaints to her. Ida's contradictory behaviour was as much a puzzle to +her as to him, and she deplored it scarcely less. But she insisted that +he should not trouble the girl by demanding explanations of her, as that, +by vexing her, would only make matters worse. + +If, indeed, Paul had any disposition to take the attitude of an aggrieved +person, it vanished when he met Ida at the tea-table. The sight of her +swollen eyes and red lids, and the piteous looks, of deprecating +tenderness which from time to time she bent on him, left room for nothing +in his heart but a great love and compassion. Whatever might be the +secret of this strange caprice it was evidently no mere piece of +wantonness. She was suffering from it as much as he. + +He tried to get a chance to talk with her; but Miss Ludington, feeling +slightly ill, went to her room directly after tea, and Ida accompanied +her to see that she was properly cared for, and got comfortably to bed. +After waiting a long while for her to come downstairs, Paul concluded +that she did not intend to appear again, and went off for a walk, in the +hope thereby of regaining something of his equanimity. + +It was about ten o'clock when he returned home. As he came in sight of +the house he saw by the light reflected from the sitting-room windows +that there was some one upon the piazza. As he came nearer he perceived +that it was Ida. She was sitting sidewise upon a long, cane-bottomed +settee, and her arms were thrown upon the back of it to form a sort of +pillow on which her head rested. His tread upon the turf was inaudible, +and she neither saw nor heard him as he approached, nor when, softly +mounting the steps, he stood over her. + +She was indeed sobbing with such violence that she could not have been +easily sensible of anything external. Paul had never heard such piteous +weeping. He had never seen much of women's crying, and he did not know +what abandonment of grief their tender frames can sustain--grief that +seemingly would kill a man if he could feel it. Long, gurgling sobs +followed one another as the waves of the sea sweep over the head of a +straggling swimmer. Every now and then they were interrupted by sharp +cries of exquisite anguish, such as might be wrung out by the sudden +twist of a rack, and then would come a low, shrill crooning sound, almost +musical, beyond which it seemed grief could not go. + +The violence of the paroxysm would pass, and she would grow calmer, +drawing long, shuddering breaths as she struggled back to self-control. +Then a quick panting would begin and grow faster and faster, till another +burst of sobs shook her like a leaf in the storm. + +In very awe of such great grief Paul stood awhile silently over her, the +tears filling his own eyes and running down his cheeks unheeded. She had +wept something like this, though nothing like so long or so bitterly, on +former occasions, when be had urged her with special vehemence to fix a +day when she would fulfil her promise to be his wife. + +Now, as he pondered the piteous spectacle before him, the thought came +over him that his first reverential instinct concerning her, that despite +her resumption of a mortal form she was something more than mortal, was +true, and that he had done wrong in so far forgetting it as to urge her +to be his wife as if she were merely a woman like others. She herself did +not know it, but surely this exceeding cruel crying was nothing else but +the conflict between the love of the woman which went out to her earthly +lover, and would fain make him happy, and the nature of the inhabitant of +heaven, where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage. This was +the key to her inexplicable sorrow during the past weeks. This explained +why, though she loved him so tenderly, the thought of becoming his wife +was so intolerable to her. + +So be it. Her nature could not sink to his, but his should rise to hers. +This brief dream of earthly passion must pass. Better a thousand times +that he should be disappointed in all that is dear to the heart of a man, +than that he should grieve her thus. In that moment it did not seem hard +to him to sacrifice the hopes of the man to the devotion of the lover. By +one great effort he rose again to the level of the ascetic passion that +had glorified his life up to these last delirious weeks. She had brought +heaven to earth for him, but it should still be heaven, since her +happiness demanded it. + +And having reasoned thus, at last, for there seemed no end of her +weeping, or any diminution of its bitterness, he touched her. She +started, and turned her streaming eyes to him, then, seeing who it was, +threw her arms around his neck, and, as he sat beside her, laid her head +on his shoulder clinging to him convulsively. + +"You don't believe I love you, Paul; and I can't blame you for it, I +can't blame you," she sobbed; "but I do, oh, I do!" + +"I do believe it. I know it," he said. "Don't think that I doubt it, and +don't cry now, for after this your love shall be enough for me. I will +not trouble you any more with importunings to be my wife. I have been +very cruel to you." + +"It is because I love you that I will not marry you," she sobbed. +"Promise me you will never doubt that. Don't ask me to explain to you why +it is; only believe me." + +"I think I understand why it is already," he replied, gently. "I was very +dull not to know before. If I had known, I should not have caused you so +much grief." + +She raised her head from his shoulder. + +"What is it that you know?" she asked, quickly. + +He thereupon proceeded to tell her, in tenderest words of reverence, +what, in his opinion, was the mystical cause, unsuspected, perhaps, even +by herself, of her unconquerable repugnance to the idea of being his +wife, truly as he knew she loved him. He blamed himself that he had not +recognized the sacred instinct which had held her back, but in his +selfish blindness had gone on urging her to do violence to her nature. +Now that his eyes were opened he would not grieve her any more. Her love +alone should satisfy and bless him. Earthly passion should no more vex +her serenity. + +When he first began to speak she had regarded him with evident +astonishment. As the meaning of his words became clear to her she had +turned her face away from him and covered it with both her hands, as a +person does under an overpowering sense of shame. She did not remove them +until he had finished, when she rose abruptly. + +Light enough came from the windows behind them for him to see that her +cheeks and forehead were crimson. + +"I think I may as well go now," she said. "Good-bye." And in another +moment he found himself alone, not a little astonished at the suddenness +of her departure. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + +Ida passed with a quick step through the sitting-room and upstairs to her +bedroom, where she locked the door and threw herself upon the bed in a +paroxysm of tearless sobbing. + +"I believe I have no more tears left," she whispered, as at last she +raised herself and arranged her dishevelled hair. + +She sat awhile in woful reverie upon the edge of the bed, and then +crossed the room to a beautiful writing-desk which Miss Ludington had +given her. She opened it, and, taking out several sheets of paper, +prepared to write. "If I had not run upstairs that moment," she murmured, +"I must have told him the whole horrible story. But it is better this +way. I believe it would have killed me to see the look on his face. Oh, +my darling, my darling! what will you think of me when you know?" and +then she sat down to write. + +She stopped so many times to cry over it that it was midnight when the +writing was finished. It was a letter, and the superscription read as +follows:-- + +"To my lover, Paul, who will never love me any mere after he reads this, +but whom I shall love for ever:-- + +"This letter will explain to you why my room is empty this morning. I +could stand it no longer: to be loved and almost worshipped, by those +whom I was basely deceiving. And so I have fled. You will never see me or +hear from me again, and you will never want to after you have read this +letter. All the jewellery and dresses, and everything that Miss Ludington +has given me, I have left behind, except the clothes I had to have to go +away in, and these I will return as soon as I get where I am going. Oh, +my poor Paul! I am no more Ida Ludington than you are. How could you ever +believe such a thing? But let me tell my shameful story in order. Perhaps +it was not so strange that you were deceived. I think any one might have +been who held the belief you did at the outset. + +"I am Ida Slater, Mrs. Slater's daughter, whom she named after Miss +Ludington, because she thought her name so pretty when they went to +school together as children in Hilton. I was born in Hilton twenty-three +years ago, several years after Miss Ludington left the village. My father +is Mr. Slater, of course, but he is the person you know as Dr. Hull, +which is an assumed name. Mrs. Legrand, who is no more dead than you are, +is a sister of my father. Her husband is dead, and father acts as her +manager, and mother helps about the seances, and does what she can in any +way to bring a little money. We have always been very poor, and it has +been very, very hard for us to get a living. Father is a man of +education, and had tried many things before we came to this, but nothing +succeeded. We grew poorer and poorer, and when this business came in our +way he had to take up with it or send us to the almshouse. It is not an +honest business, at least as we conducted it; but, oh, Paul! none of you +that are rich understand that to a very poor man the duty of supporting +his family seems sometimes as if it were the only duty in the world. + +"Well, when mother came to visit Miss Ludington, and saw that picture +which is so much like me, and so little, mother says, like what Miss +Ludington ever was, and when she found out about your belief in the +immortality of past selves, the idea first came to her of deceiving you. + +"That story of mother's going to Cincinnati was a lie, to prevent your +suspecting that she had anything to do with the business. Mrs. Rhinehart +is an imaginary person. At first, the idea was only to get you interested +in the seances, for the profit of the fees; but when they saw how +entirely deceived you were by my resemblance to the picture, the scheme +of getting me into this house occurred to them. + +"Or rather it did not occur to them at all. It was you, Paul, yourself, +who suggested it, when you said that night after the first seance, that +if a medium died in a trance, you believed the materialized spirit could +not dematerialize but would return to earth. But for that the idea would +never have occurred to them. + +"It seemed a daring plot, but many things favoured it. I had lived in +Hilton up to within a few years, and knew every stick and stone of the +old as well as the new part of the village. I had wandered all over the +old Ludington homestead time and again. Mother knew as much about Miss +Ludington's early life as she did herself, and could post me on the +subject, and there was my wonderful resemblance to the picture, which, of +itself, would be almost enough to carry me through. + +"It was for my sake entirely that they proposed this scheme. My father +and mother may be looked down upon by the world as a very poor kind of +people, but they have always been very good to me. I will not have you +blame them except as you blame me with them. They thought that in this +way I could be rescued from the hard and questionable life which they +were living, and in which they did not wish me to grow up. If the plan +succeeded, and you were deceived and took me here, thinking me the true +Ida, they believed that I would be secured a life of happiness and +luxury. They had seen, too, how you were in love with the true Ida, and +made no question that you would love me and marry me. + +"It was that more than all, Paul, that decided me to do it. I had fallen +in love with you that night of the first seance when I stood before you +and you looked at me with such boundless, adoring love. I think it would +have turned almost any girl's head to be looked at in that way. And then, +Paul, you are very handsome. + +"I always had a taste for acting. They used to say I would have done well +on the stage, and the idea of playing a role so fine and so bold as this +took my fancy from the start. It was that, Paul, that, and the notion of +your making love to me, more than any thought of the wealth and luxury I +might get a share in, which made me consent to the plan. + +"That sickness of Mrs. Legrand's between the seances--I am telling you +all, Paul--was only a sham, so that we might see how much in earnest you +were, and to get time for me to learn by heart all mother could teach me +about the Hilton of forty years ago and Miss Ludington's girlhood. There +were so many lists of names to be kept in mind, and school-room +incidents, picnics, and flirtations; but it was as interesting as a +romance, and being a Hilton girl, it did not take me long to make myself +as much at home with the last generation as with my own. Sometimes mother +would say to me, 'Ida, if I did not know that you are a good girl, and +would be good to Miss Ludington, I would not betray my old friend this +way. I would not do it for any one but you, and if I did not believe that +in deceiving her you would make her very happy--far happier than now.' + +"I think, in spite of all, she was very fond of Miss Ludington, for she +made me promise, again and again, that I would be very good to her, as if +I could have helped being good to such a gentle, tender-hearted person as +she. + +"You see, in our business, we had shown to so many sad people what they +believed to be the forms and faces of their dead friends, and had sent +them away comforted, that we had come to feel our frauds condoned by the +happiness they caused, and that we were, after all, doing good. + +"As for you, Paul, mother had no scruples. She said that I was a good +girl, and any man was lucky to get me. I was not sure of that, but I knew +that any girl would be fortunate whom you loved. She had a dress cut for +me in the exact pattern of that in the picture--a very old-fashioned +pattern, but very becoming to me--and all was ready. You know the rest. + +"I forgot to say that the reason the dress all fell to pieces the day +after I came here was that it had been treated with a chemical +preparation, which had completely rotted the texture of the cloth. Indeed +I had trouble to keep it together that first night. Father saw to this +part. He understands chemistry, and indeed, everything else except how to +make a living. + +"There was no trap-door in the floor in Tenth Street, but the whole +ceiling of the cabinet was a trap-door, the edges hidden by the breadth +of the boards forming the partition which enclosed it. It rose on oiled +hinges, with a pulley and a counter-weight, at a touch of a finger, and +the person who was to appear, unless it was a part that the medium +herself could take, descended in an instant by letting down a short light +ladder, wrapped in cloth, so as to make no sound. The draught of air just +before the appearance, which Miss Ludington had spoken of in her talks +with me, was something that we never thought of, and was caused, I +suppose, by the drawing of the air up through the raised ceiling. + +"It was all so easy, so easy; we need not have taken half the precautions +we did; you were so absolutely convinced from the first moment that I was +the Ida of the picture. From the time I came home with you that night +till now there has been no question of my proving who I was, but only of +Miss Ludington's proving, and of your proving, to me, that you were the +persons you claimed to be. It was not whether I was related to her, but +only that she was related to me, which Miss Ludington thought in any need +of demonstration. + +"And as for you, Paul, it is not your fault that I was not your wife +weeks ago. + +"And so I should have been, and Miss Ludington's heir besides, but for +two particulars in which our plot was fatally defective. It provided for +all contingencies, but made no allowance for the possibilities that I +might prove capable of gratitude towards Miss Ludington, and that I might +fall in love with you. Both these things have happened to me, and there +is no choice left me but to fly in the night. Of course I had expected +you to fall in love with me, and had fancied you so much, after seeing +you the first time, as to feel that it would be very fine to have you for +a lover, and even for a husband. But that was not really love at all. I +think if you could understand even a little what dismay came over me when +I first realized that my heart was yours, you would almost pity me. After +that, to deceive you was torture to me, and yet, to tell you the truth +would have been to make you loathe me like a snake. Oh, Paul! think of +what I have suffered these past weeks, and pity me a little! + +"You will understand now why it was that I could not bear to have the +circumstances of the fraud we had practised on you alluded to in my +presence, and why, after the first few days, I never spoke of them +myself. + +"When father, whom you know as Dr. Hull, came that day to see how the +plot was succeeding, I thought I should die with shame. He tried to catch +my eye, and to get a chance to speak with me, but I avoided him. He must +have gone away very much puzzled by my conduct, for it had been arranged +between us that he should come. By that time, you see, I had become +heart-sick of the part I was playing. + +"But, Paul, you must not think that it was mere sham, father's drawing +you out so much to talk at the table that night, and pretending to be so +much taken up with what you said. He is great for being taken up with new +ideas, and I think his interest was quite genuine. I knew before I left +home that he half believed you to be right about the immortality of past +selves. For my part, I believe it wholly, and that I have abused not only +Miss Ludington and you, but the spirit of her whom I have personated. + +"If Miss Ludington bad not so loaded me with kindness I could have borne +it, better, but to have that sweet old lady fairly worshipping the ground +one trod on, and covering one with gifts, and dresses, and jewels, would +have been too much, I think, for the conscience of the worst person in +the world. + +"I should have fled from the house before I had been here a week but for +you, Paul. I could not bear to leave you. If I had only gone then I +should have saved myself much; for what would it have been to leave you +then to what it is now! + +"It was very wrong in me to promise to marry you that night when you came +to me; for I knew then as well as now that I never could. But I loved you +so, I had no strength. Oh, these last happy weeks! I wonder if you have +been so happy as I--so happy or so miserable, I don't know which to say; +for all the time there was a deadly sickness at my heart, and every night +I cried myself to sleep, and woke up crying; and yet I loved you so I +could not but be happy in being where you were. Remember always, Paul, +that if I had not loved you so, I should have let you marry an +adventuress; for that is what I suppose you will call me now--you, who +could not find words tender enough for me. Yes, if I had loved you less, +I would have been your wife, and I would have made you very happy, just +as we made so many poor people happy at our seances--by deceiving them. +But I could not deceive you. + +"It is true that I have been meanwhile deceiving you, but it has only +been from day to day. I knew it was not to last, and I lacked strength to +end it sooner. Think how dear your kisses must have been to me, that I +could endure them with the knowledge all the while that if you knew whom +you were kissing, you would spurn me with your foot. + +"As soon as you began to urge me to name a day for our marriage I knew +that the end was near. You wondered why I cried so whenever you spoke of +it. You know now. To-day Miss Ludington told me that she intended to +adopt me and leave me her fortune, so that I need feel under no necessity +to marry you if I did not wish to. Think of that, Paul! Can you conceive +of any one so low, so base, as to be capable of taking advantage of such +a heart? As she was talking to me, I made up my mind that I must go +to-night. + +"This evening, when I was helping her to bed (I have been so glad to do +all I could for her; it took away a little of my shame to see how happy I +made her) she seemed so troubled because I could not keep my tears from +falling. When you read her this she will think her sympathy wasted. And +yet she will not think hard of me. She could not think hard of any one, +and I am sure I love her dearly, and always shall. + +"Oh, Paul, my darling, do not despise me utterly! My love was pure; it +was as pure as any one's could be, though I have been so bad. I think my +heart was breaking when you found me crying on the piazza to-night. It +was not only that I must leave you, and never look on your face again, +but that I must give over my memory to your scorn and loathing. When you +took me in your arms and comforted me, my resolution all gave way, and I +felt that I would not, could not, go. I think I was on the point of +throwing myself at your feet and confessing all, and begging to be taken +as the lowest servant in the house, so that I might be near you. + +"And then it was that you began to explain to me that, although I might +not be aware of it, the reason that I would not be your wife was that, +having come from heaven, my nature was purer than that of earthly women, +and shrank from marriage as a sacrilege. + +"Think of your saying that to me! + +"When I comprehended you, and saw that you actually believed what you +said, I realized the folly of imagining that you could ever pardon me for +what I had done, or that the gulf between what I was and what you thought +me to be could ever be bridged. So it was that you yourself gave me back +the resolution and the strength to leave you, which went from me when I +was in your arms. I was overcome with such shame and self-contempt that I +could not even kiss you as I left you for ever. + +"I have told you my whole story, Paul, that you may know not alone how +black my deception was, but how bitterly I have expiated it. I came into +this house a frivolous girl; I leave it a broken-hearted woman. Do not +blame me too harshly. It is myself that I have injured most. I leave you +as well off as before you saw me; free to return to your spirit-love. She +will forgive you. It is my only consolation that she is but a +spirit-love. If she were a woman I could never have given you up to her. +Never! Oh, Paul! If I could only hope that you would not wholly despise +me, that you, would think sometimes a little pitifully of + "IDA SLATER." + +She next wrote a note to Miss Ludington, full of contrition and +tenderness, and referring her to Paul's letter for the whole story. It +was after two o'clock in the morning when she finished the second letter, +and laid it in plain view beside the other. She next removed her jewels +and exchanged her rich costume for the simplest in her wardrobe, and +having donned cloak and hat, extinguished the light, and softly unlocking +the door, stepped into the hall. + +Perfect silence reigned in the house. As she stood listening the clock in +the sitting-room struck three. There was no time to lose. The early +summer dawn would soon arrive, and, before the first servants of +neighbours were stirring she must be outside the grounds and well on her +way. + +There was a late risen moon, and enough light penetrated the house to +enable her to make her way without difficulty. As she passed Paul's door +she stopped and stood leaning her forehead against the casement for some +minutes. At last she knelt and pressed her lips to the threshold, and, +choking down a sob, went on downstairs. As she passed through the +sitting-room she paused a moment before the picture. "Forgive me," she +whispered, looking up at the dimly visible face of Ida Ludington, and +passed on. Unfastening a window that opened upon the piazza, she stepped +forth and closed it behind her. + +At the first light sound of her feet upon the walk, the mastiff that +guarded the house bounded up to her, and seeing who it was, licked her +hand. The big beast had fallen in love with her on her first arrival, and +been her devoted attendant ever since. She sat down on the edge of the +walk and put her arms around his neck, wetting his shaggy coat with her +tears. Here was a friend who would know no difference between Ida Slater +and Ida Ludington. Here was one who loved her for herself. + +Presently she rose, dried her eyes, and went on down the street, the dog +trotting contentedly behind her. As she came to a point beyond which the +trees cut off the view of the house, she stood still, gazing back at it +for a long time. Finally, with a gesture of renunciation, she turned and +passed swiftly out of sight. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + + +It was Miss Ludington herself who, stirring unusually early, discovered +Ida's flight on going to her room. + +Paul opened his eyes a few minutes later to see her standing by his +bedside, the picture of consternation. + +"She is gone!" she exclaimed. + +"Who is gone?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. + +"Ida has gone. Her room is empty." + +Hastily dressing, he rejoined her in Ida's chamber, and together they +went over the letters she had left. + +If the revelation which they contained had been made when she had been in +the house a shorter time, its effect might have been very different. But +it had come too late to produce the revulsion of feeling it might then +have caused. True, it was under a false name that she had first won their +confidence, but it was the girl herself they had learned to love. If her +name proved to be Ida Slater, why it was Ida Slater whom they loved. It +was the person, not the name. + +"Oh, why did she leave us!" cried Miss Ludington, with streaming eyes, as +she finished Ida's letter to Paul. "Why did she not come to us and tell +us! We would have forgiven her. She was not so much to blame as her +parents. How can we blame her when we think how happy she has made us! +Oh, Paul! we must find her. We must bring her back." + +He pressed her hand in silence. His darling, his heart's love, had gone +away from him, out into the world, and he knew not where to find her, and +yet it would be hard to say whether there was not more of exultation than +of despair in the mingled emotions which just then deprived him of the +power of speech. + +He had comprehended perfectly well her confession of the deception which +she had practised on them, but the portion of her letter which had +chiefly affected him had been the impassioned avowal of her love for him. +After his recent trying ordeal in striving to subject an earthly love to +spiritual conditions, culminating the night before in the renunciation of +the hope of ever marrying her at all, there was an intoxicating happiness +in the discovery that she was every whit as earthly as he, and loved him +with a passion as ardent as his own. He was a Pygmalion, whose statue had +become a woman. For the first time he now realized how far his heart had +travelled from the spirit-love which once had been enough for it, and how +impossible it was that it should ever again find satisfaction in the dim +and nebulous emotion in which it had so long rested. With a sense of +recreancy that was wholly shameless, he realized that it was no longer +Ida Ludington, but Ida Slater, whom he loved. + +Little did the forlorn girl, in her self-imposed exile, imagine what a +welcome would have met her if, moved by some intuition, she had retraced +her steps that morning to the chamber which a few hours before she had +deserted. + +Repentance often is so fine that in the moral balance it quite outweighs +the fault repented of, and so it was in her case. Such repentance is as +if the black stalk of sin had blossomed and put forth a fragrant flower. + +These two persons, whom she had expected to loathe her as soon as they +should know the truth, had from the first reading of her story been more +impressed with the chivalrous instinct which had driven her to abandon +her role of fraud when it was about to be crowned with dazzling success, +than with her original offence in entering upon it. The effect of her +story was in this respect a curious one for a confession to produce: it +had added to the affection which they had previously entertained for her, +an appreciation of the nobility of her character which they had not then +possessed. + +Paul's heart yearned after its mistress in her self-humiliation and +voluntary banishment as never before. This impassioned and most human +woman, who had shown herself capable of wrong, and, also, of most +generous renunciation, had struck a deeper chord in his breast than had +ever vibrated to the touch of the flawless seraph he had supposed her to +be. + +Having canvassed all possible methods of reaching Ida in her flight, it +was decided by Paul and his aunt to begin by advertising, and that same +day the following notice was inserted in all the daily papers of Brooklyn +and New York;-- + +"IDA S----R.--All is forgiven; only come back. We cannot live without +you. For pity's sake at least write to us. + "Miss L----AND PAUL." + + +This advertisement was to remain in the papers till forbidden. If Ida was +anywhere in the two cities or vicinity, the chances were that it would +fall under the notice of herself or some of her family. Before inserting +the advertisement Paul had visited Mrs. Legrand's house in East Tenth +Street; but, as he had expected, he found that the family had moved away +long previously, probably with a view to avoid detection, and to enable +Mrs. Legrand to obtain business elsewhere. + +A week passed without any response to the advertisement. Paul spent his +days walking the streets of New York and Brooklyn at random, for the sake +of the chance, about one in ten billions, that he might meet Ida. +Anything was more endurable than sitting at home waiting, and by dint of +tramping all day long he was so dead tired when he reached home at night +that he could sleep, which otherwise would have been out of the question. + +About the middle of the week a bundle arrived, containing the dress Ida +had worn away, with her hat and cloak, but without a word of writing; +Paul devoured them with kisses. A study of the express markings showed +that the package must have been sent from Brooklyn, which went to show +that Ida was in that city. Believing that she did not intend to respond +to the advertisement, Paul had determined, if he did not hear from her +within a few days, to employ a prominent New York detective firm to +search for her. If he could but once see her face to face, he was sure +that he could bring her back. + +A week from the day on which she had fled he was starting out as usual, +early in the morning, for another day of hopeless, weary tramping in the +city, when the postman handed him a letter addressed in her handwriting. +It was to him like a voice from the grave, and read as follows:-- + +"I have seen your advertisement for me. I cannot believe that you have +forgiven me. You could not do it. It is impossible. Even if I could +believe it, I do not think I should ever have the courage to face you +after what you know of me. I should die of shame. Oh, Paul! if you could +see how my cheeks burn as I write this, and know that you will see it. +But I cannot deny myself the happiness of writing to you. There is no +reason why we should not write sometimes, is there? though we never see +each other. Does Miss Ludington really forgive me, or does she merely +consent to have me return because you still care for me? If you do still +care for me--Oh, Paul! I cannot believe it--do you forget what I have +done? Read over again the letter I left for you when I came away. You +must have forgotten it. Read it carefully. Think it all over. Oh, no, +you cannot love me still! + "IDA SLATER." + + +Paul replied with the first love-letter he had ever written, and one that +any woman who loved him must have found irresistible. He enclosed a note +from Miss Ludington, assuring Ida of the unhappiness which her flight had +caused them, the undiminished tenderness which they cherished for her; +and the cruelty she would be guilty of if she refused to return. + +In response to these letters there came a note saying simply, "I will +come." + +On the evening of the day this note was received, as Paul and Miss +Ludington were together in the sitting-room talking as usual of Ida, and +wondering on what day she would return, there was a light step at, the +open door, and she glided into the room, and, throwing herself on her +knees before Miss Ludington, hid her face in her lap. + +It was an hour before she would raise her head, replying the while only +with sobs to the kisses and caresses showered upon her, and the +assurances of love and welcome poured into her ears. + +When at last she lifted her face her embarrassment was so distressing +that in pity Miss Ludington told Paul he might take her out for a walk in +the dark. + +When they came back her cheeks were flushed as redly as when she went +out; but, despite her shame, she looked very happy. + +"She is to be my wife in two weeks from to-day," said Paul, exultantly. + +"I ought not to let him marry me. I know I ought not. I am not fit for +him," faltered Ida; "but I cannot refuse him anything, and I love him +so!" + +"You are quite fit for him," said Miss Ludington, kissing her, "and I can +well believe he loves you. It would be strange, indeed, if he did not. +You are a noble and a tender woman, and he will be very happy." + +In the days that followed, Ida was at first much puzzled to account not +only for the evident genuineness of the esteem which her friends +cherished for her, but for the fact that it seemed to have been enhanced +rather than diminished by the recent events. Instead of regarding her +repentance as at most offsetting her offence, they apparently looked upon +it as a positive virtue redounding wholly to her credit. It was quite as +if she had made amends for another person a sin, in contrast with whose +conduct her own nobility stood out in fine relief. + +And that, in fact, is exactly the way they did look at it. Their habit of +distinguishing between the successive phases of an individual life as +distinct persons, made it impossible for them to take any other view of +the matter. + +In their eyes the past was good or bad for itself, and the present good +or bad for itself, and an evil past could no more shadow a virtuous +present than a virtuous present could retroact to brighten or redeem an +ugly past. It is the soul that repents which is ennobled by repentance. +The soul that did the deed repented of is past forgiving. There was no +affectation on the part of Paul or Miss Ludington of ignoring the fraud +which Ida had practised, or pretending to forget it. This was not +necessary out of any consideration for her feelings, for they did not +hold that it was she who was guilty of that fraud, but another person. + +As gradually she comprehended the way in which they looked upon her, and +came to perceive that they unquestioningly held that she had no +responsibility for her past self, but was a new being, she was filled +with a great exhilaration, the precise like of which was, perhaps, never +before known to a repentant wrong-doer. As they believed, so would she +believe. With a great joy she put the shameful past behind her and took +up her new life. "As a man thinketh in his heart so is he." + +If she had loved Paul before, if she had before felt tenderly toward Miss +Ludington, a passion of gratitude now intensified her love, her +tenderness, a thousand-fold. + +Miss Ludington's failing health was the only shadow on the perfect +happiness of the lovers during those two weeks of courtship. Compared +with the intoxicating reality of these golden days Paul looked back on +his wooing of the supposed Ida Ludington as a vague and unsatisfying +dream. + +Now that Ida was no longer playing a part, he was really just becoming +acquainted with her, and finding out what manner of maiden it was to whom +he had lost his heart. Each day, almost each hour, discovered to him some +new trait, some unsuspected grace of mind or heart, till, in this glowing +girl, so bright, so blithe, so piquant, he had difficulty in recognizing +any likeness, save of face and form, to the moody, freakish, melancholy, +hysterical, and altogether eerie Ida Ludington. + +"I am so glad," Miss Ludington said to her one day, "that you are Ida +Slater, and not my Ida." + +"Why are you glad?" Ida asked. "Would you not have been happier if you +had gone on believing me to be your girlish self?" + +"I should have grown very sad by this time if I had continued to think +that you were she?" replied Miss Ludington. "I have not long to live, +and it is far more important to me that she should be there to welcome me +when I go over than that I should have her here with me for a few days +before I go. If she were here on earth the thought of so soon leaving her +behind would sadden me as much as the hope of meeting her now gladdens me." + +Miss Ludington neither talked herself nor permitted others to talk in a +melancholy tone of the probable nearness of her end. "Death may seem +dreadful," she said to Ida one day, "to the foolish people who fancy that +an individual dies but once, forgetting that their present selves are but +the last of many selves already dead. The death which may now be near me +is no sadder, no more important, than the deaths of my past selves, and +no different, save in the single respect that this time no later self +will follow me. This house of our individuality, which has sheltered us +in turn, having become incapable of being repaired for the use of +subsequent tenants, is to be pulled down. That is all." + +Another time she said, "It is very strange to see people who dread death +always looking for it instead of backward. In their fear of dying once +they quite forget that they have died already many times. It is the most +foolish of all things to imagine that by prolonging the career of the +individual, death is kept at bay. The present self must die in any case +by the inevitable process of time, whether the body be kept in repair for +later selves or not. The death of the body is but the end of the daily +dying that makes up earthly life." + +They were married in the sitting-room before the picture that had exerted +so strong an influence upon their lives. The servants were invited in, +but there was no company. Ida wore a white satin with a low corsage, and +as she stood directly below the picture, the resemblance impressed the +beholders very strikingly. It was as if the girl had stepped down from +the picture to be married. + +Ida had demurred a little to standing just there, which bad been the +suggestion of Miss Ludington. She was not without a vague superstition +that the spirit of the girl whose lover she had stolen away would not +wish her well. But when she hinted this, Miss Ludington replied, "You +must not think of it that way. What has a spirit like her to do with +earthly passions? Your love has saved Paul from a dream as vain as it was +beautiful, and which, had it gone on, might have gained a morbid strength +and blighted his life. I like to fancy, and I know it is Paul's belief, +that the spirit of my Ida influenced you to come to us just as you came, +that under her form Paul might fall in love with you. In no other way but +just this do I believe he could have been cured of his infatuation." + +Owing to the precarious condition of Miss Ludington's health, Paul and +Ida would not consent to leave home for any bridal trip. + +It was but a week after the wedding that, on going into Miss Ludington's +room as usual the first thing in the morning, Ida found her dead. She +must have expired very quietly, if not, indeed, in her sleep, for her +room adjoined that of the bridal couple, and she could have summoned Ida +with the touch of a bell. Her features were relaxed in a smile of joyous +recognition. + + * * * * * * + +Paul took his wife to Europe directly after the funeral. One night, +during their absence, a fire, probably set by tramps, broke out in one of +the empty houses of the village, and, the wind being high and no help +near, all the buildings on the place, including the homestead, were +completely destroyed. The latter being shut up, nothing even of the +furniture could be saved, and the entire contents, including the picture +in the sitting-room, were consumed. The tourists were much shocked by the +receipt of the intelligence, but Paul expressed the inmost conviction of +both when he finally said, "Now that she is gone, perhaps it is as well. +Ashes to ashes! The past has claimed its own." + +They never rebuilt the village or the homestead, but on their return to +this country took up their residence in New York. The site of the mimic +Hilton is once more tilled as a farm. + +It is scarcely necessary to add that Ida made such provision for her +family as enabled them to retire from the medium business. Paul insisted +that this provision should be at the most generous nature, for was he not +indebted to them for the happiness of his life? He never would admit that +Mrs. Legrand was a fraud, but always maintained that none but a truly +great medium could have materialized the vaguest of love-dreams into the +sweetest of wives. + +As for Dr. Hull, or, rather, Mr. Slater, he became in time quite a crony +of Paul's, and the book on which the latter is engaged, setting forth the +argument for the immortality of past selves, will owe not a little to the +suggestions of the old gentleman. + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Miss Ludington's Sister, by Edward Bellamy + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS LUDINGTON'S SISTER *** + +This file should be named ldgts10.txt or ldgts10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, ldgts11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, ldgts10a.txt + +Text prepared by Malcolm Farmer. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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