And then occurred the most strangely unaccountable event in
his life.
As he looked about the parlor, he for the second time found himself before
the mirror, but the reflection therein, though it was of himself, was of
himself with his back turned to his real self, as he stood gazing amazedly
into the glass; and besides this, although Jingleberry was alone in the
real parlor, the reflection of the dainty room showed that there he was
not so, for seated in her accustomed graceful attitude in the reflected
arm-chair was nothing less than the counterfeit presentment of Marian
Chapman herself.
It was a wonder Jingleberry's eyes did not fall out of his head, he stared
so. What a situation it was, to be sure, to stand there and see in the
glass a scene which, as far as he could observe, had no basis in reality;
and how interesting it was for Jingleberry to watch himself going through
the form of chatting pleasantly there in the mirror's depths with the
woman he loved! It almost made him jealous, though, the reflected
Jingleberry was so entirely independent of the real Jingleberry.
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