He paused, and then resumed with deep and touching emotion—
“A young girl, whom I loved, God knows how fondly, was taken from me in the bloom of youth, and on the eve of marriage, by a fearful accident, which left her not a vestige of beauty—burned to death,” he said, with a shudder. “A confirmed infidel, with no hope—crushed, tortured, maddened by the idea that she was lost to me forever, I cursed my cruel fate, and should have put an end to a hateful existence, had not pride whispered, ‘Do not be mastered by your destiny; conquer it—live,’ And I lived. At this time, I heard much of the Miss Foxes, and of the wonderful things occurring in their presence. An impression I could not shake off led me to their house. In bitter mockery, I asked myself, Am I insane? I went to scoff—be it said—but returned to pray. A communication came thus by raps—
‘Do not mourn for me, Philip. I am happy now. I was taken from you, because you enveloped your soul in pride as in a mantle. Dear Philip! you must become as a little child.
“‘Lilian.’
“Imagine my surprise; for I was in a strange city, where none knew me. I am not ashamed to confess, that tears, foreign to my nature, came unbidden to my eyes, and the prayer arose to my lips—‘Teach me the truth, Oh! God.’ That prayer, dear friends, has been answered. Since that time I have been happy; for I now look at this life in the light of the other.”
“’Tis a beautiful faith,” said Evelyn, “that our loved ones are still about our path—our guardian angels, perhaps.”
“It is a faith I would not lose,” said D’Arcy, “for worlds of untold wealth.”
He drew from his neck a delicate hair chain, with a locket attached. Touching a spring, we perceived the miniature of a beautiful young girl. “That portrait,” said D’Arcy, “was painted by a spirit medium, after my Lilian had passed away—it is her very self—but spiritualized.”
“How exquisitely lovely!” I exclaimed.