CHAPTER II.

From these dreams I awakened in the morning perplexed, disturbed, and

unrefreshed. After dressing, I was summoned to breakfast by the person

who had received me the previous night. She led me down the stairway

and through the hall into the breakfast room.

It was a long, narrow apartment, with wainscots and floor of polished

oak. A bright fire blazed upon the hearth. A small round stand was set

forth, upon which was placed my solitary repast. I seated myself and

partook, with a relish, of the nice cakes, fragrant coffee, and sweet

clover butter.

Having finished my meal, I arose and walked to one of the deep-set

windows which lighted the apartment. Lifting the curtain, I looked out.

A grassy lawn overhung with trees; clear gravel paths and well-trimmed

shrubbery; beyond, rocks relieved by a patch of blue sky; a thin

line of light, neutral tinted, winding through the distant meadows,

indicating a streamlet; these constituted the landscape.

Having spent a full quarter of an hour in abstractedly gazing at this

scene, I was called to reality by the opening of the room door, and a

strange voice repeating my name. The person presenting herself appeared

to be an upper servant--a tall, thin woman, with dark hair sprinkled

with gray, and an amiable, weak face.

“If you have finished your breakfast, Miss, I will show you to Mr.

Bristed’s room.”

I assured her it was completed, and, following her. I crossed the hall

and entered a door at the left. A pleasant odor of flowers met my

grateful senses. The room was spacious, wide and deep, and handsomely

carpeted. The walls were ornamented with paintings and engravings.

An ample arm-chair, which the owner had evidently just vacated, and

a table containing books and papers, gave a tone of both comfort and

elegance to the room, which was decidedly congenial to my taste.

Two great glass doors, reflecting clearly the morning sunbeams, led

into a conservatory from whence issued the fragrance I perceived on

entering.

Among the flowers moved a tall, manly figure. As I entered, the

gentleman came forward.

“Miss Reef, Mr. Bristed,” said my companion, by way of introduction.

So this was my employer. As he stood before me, I surveyed him; a

well-formed gentleman, above the ordinary height, with pale complexion,

set off by dark, penetrative eyes; a shapely head covered with long,

heavy masses of straight dark hair. The impression his appearance

conveyed to me was that of a person benevolent but apathetic; unhappy

without the will or power to shake off his burden.

He bade me be seated. “You are young,” said he, reflectively. “May I

ask your age?”

“Seventeen,” I replied.

“Very young,” he reiterated, thoughtfully shaking his head; “however,

as you are here, if you wish to remain, Mary will introduce you to your

pupil.”

“I certainly wish to remain,” said I, impatiently; “I have journeyed

quite a distance for that purpose, and shall be happy to commence the

instruction of my pupil immediately.”

“Very well,” said he. “Mary, take her to the nursery, and attend to any

of her wants.”

The girl opened a door adjoining that which we had entered by; a narrow

hall and a flight of stairs led us to the room indicated.

A little solitary figure, breathing upon the window-glass, and tracing

thereon letters with long, thin fingers, was the first object that

presented itself to my eye,

“Here is your governess, Herbert,” said Mary.

The little boy turned and surveyed me with his large, blue, mournful

eyes. They sent a quiver through my frame from their strange

resemblance to eyes I had seen but the night before in my dream.

He was apparently satisfied with his inspection, and his thin scarlet

lips parted into a smile.

I called him to me. He came forward timidly.

Taking his small hand, I asked him a few questions about his studies.

I found him intelligent, but grave beyond his years; very docile and

obedient, and ere the end of the day we became excellent friends.

Strange Visitors A series of original papers, embracing philosophy, science, government, religion, poetry, art, fiction, satire, humor, narrative, and prophecy, by the spirits of Irving, Willis, Thackeray, Brontë, Richter, Byron, Humboldt, Hawthorne, Wesley, Browning, and others now dwelling in the spirit world; dictated through a clairvoyant, while in an abnormal or trance state · 第 2 / 24 章