orant doctor."

"Indeed!" I exclaimed. "I am curious to hear of what sort these
phenomena are. I take an immense interest in natural phenomena,
especially that sort connected with the temperament of individuals."

"Well," she answered, "as you encourage me so far, I do not mind telling
you some of those most common to me. Ofttimes when I am alone, either in
my chamber or walking in the fields, a sort of dizziness comes over me,
and I seem to be in the midst of a bed of flowers. When I try to pluck
one they instantly vanish, and the dizziness likewise disappears. At
other times I have seen before me a wreath of stars, which lasts for two
or three minutes, then also vanishes. I have seen, too, distinctly in
the daytime the faces of certain relations of mine, long since dead, and
at night I occasionally start out of my sleep and see human forms
bending over me, and sometimes they speak to me."

"It is very strange," I observed. "And have you never been able to
attribute these visions to any nervous excitement, or to any natural
cause whatever?"

"No; on the contrary, they generally appear when I am most calm."

I told her I had heard before of similar phenomena during, or even a
long time after, a serious illness, and that I thought in most cases
they might be attributed to an over-excitement of the brain, brought on
by indigestion or other causes. She told me that she had never had any
really serious illness in her life, though she admitted that she was
constitutionally delicate. We then went into a metaphysical discussion,
which was interrupted by the rest of the family, who came to meet us in
the garden.

"I am sorry we have disturbed your _tete-a-tete_," said one of the elder
sisters, quizzingly. "It must have been quite a pleasure to have been
concealed behind the summer-house and listened to your intellectual
conversation."

These words to a stranger would have conveyed nothing but a sort of
merry banter, nor was there more conveyed in the tone, yet I, who had
studied the nature of the speaker well, thought I discovered an
undercurrent of sarcasm in the word "intellectual," as if she was
perfectly sure that no conversation between us could be intellectual.

"There is many a true word spoken in jest," I replied. "I assure you
that our conversation _has_ been _most_ intellectual. Miss Maud's ideas
are so lofty, that it is really quite an effort on my part to follow
her," said I, with a smile, though I really m