"Never. But he wears the absent, dreamy air of a lover; even when alone
it is noticeable, Miriam. I can always tell when a man is preoccupied in
that way."
"If you could go a little further, and divine the object of such
preoccupation, you would be better prepared to counsel me, dear friend.
He is no lover of mine, I assure you!"
"Ah, the old story again, Miriam! Have patience, my dear child." And,
strong in his belief that my change of resolution arose only from pique
and jealousy, that would soon be over, the good doctor went his way, all
the more ready to keep my secret for such conviction.
I passed a miserable night. The great bed seemed to inclose me like a
sepulchre, which yet I was too feeble, too irresolute, to leave. The
conversation I had heard seemed stereotyped on plates of brass, that
rang like cymbals in my ears. Toward morning I slept. I dreamed that
mamma came to me, and said, in tones so natural that they seemed to
sound in my ears after I had awakened:
"Miriam, your mother and father have sent me to say to you that they
are united and happy. I, too, have found my mate at last. It was for
this I was called. The sea has given up its dead, and I am blessed. Now,
dearest, Mabel is all yours;" and then she kissed me.
I woke with that kiss upon my cheek.
The brief and distinct vision made a deep impression on me.
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