d
that she had. She was too happy at the time he was with her to be
visited by her 'visions.' I thought they had ceased altogether, and I
think Miriam believed they had, and was happy to be done with them
forever.

I was quite surprised then to see her walk into my room one day in a
hurried manner, with a face ghastly pale, and eyes unusually distended,
and gazing at me with a wild, fixed stare. She trembled exceedingly,
and tried to speak, but the words refused to come at her bidding. I was
much alarmed, and, remembering there was a glass of wine in the closet,
I brought it to her, but she motioned it away. I opened the window, and
the rush of cold air revived her. She sat down by it, and after a little
time, she said:

'Hester, do you remember the little sitting room of Annie's, at the foot
of the back stairs, with windows opening into the garden?'

'Yes, I remember it perfectly. Why do you ask?'

'She has had it newly furnished, and very elegantly.'

'How do you know?'

'Because I was there this afternoon; spent some time in it.'

'You! in Annie's room!'

_I_ was there, in Annie's room--that is, the only part of me that is
worth anything; my body remained here, in my own room, I suppose.'

I saw at once that the old spell was on her again, and, as I made it a
point to fall in with her humor on such occasions, I said:

'Well, what did you see there?'

'I saw an open piano, and books and music scattered around. There were a
great many flowers in the room. A bright fire was in the grate, and
Pompey--the house dog--was stretched on a rug before it. A large
easy-chair, covered with blue damask, stood near the fireplace. Henry
Ackermann was seated in it. Annie was kneeling before him. He talked to
her while he stroked her hair. I heard every word that he said.'

Here she paused. I was getting quite excited with her narrative, but I
spoke as calmly as I could:

'You have only fancied these things, Miriam. You are ill.'

'The _material_ part of my nature may be ill. I do not know. But the
_immaterial_ is sound and healthy. It sometimes leaves its grosser
companion, and makes discoveries for itself. This is not the first time
it has happened, as you well know. I have been particular in my
description, in order that I might convince you that I have actually
been there. You know that the description I have given is entirely
different from the appearance of Annie's room in former times. I have
never heard that