The baroness, who saw the youth’s unwillingness to enlarge upon the subject, here observed,
“That some of the visions had been of no great importance—those which she had heard related, at least.”
The chaplain led the conversation from dreams themselves, to their origin, on which subject he and the doctor could not agree; and Edward and his visions were left in peace at last. But when every one had departed, each to his daily occupation, Edward followed the baron into his library.
“I answered in that manner,” he said, “to get rid of the doctor and his questioning. To you I will confess the truth. Your room has exercised its mysterious influence over me.”
“Indeed!” said the baron, eagerly.
“I have seen and spoken with my Ferdinand, for the first time since his death. I will trust to your kindness—your sympathy—not to require of me a description of this exciting vision. But I have a question to put to you.”
“Which I will answer in all candor, if it be possible.”
“Do you know the name of Emily Varnier?”
“Varnier!—certainly not.”
“Is there no one in this neighborhood who bears that name?”