and talked over the singular fulfilment of his lamented niece’s wish.”
Herrmann remarked, “that it would have been much more singular had the death of the countess been the effect of accident, indisposition being in itself a natural cause. The lady might have felt alarmed at her own sudden impulse, or her uncle’s remark, and consequent agitation might have brought on the illness which occasioned her death.”
“Pardon me,” interrupted the professor; “but I cannot help smiling when the conversation turns upon natural causes, as if it were possible for anything in nature to be unnatural. Whatever happens in the world, must imperatively be natural, or it could not take place.”
“A truce with your literal interpretations,” cried Herrmann, “one is apt to term unnatural all that is difficult of explanation, or that cannot be accounted for.”
“Were I not professor of philosophy,” rejoined Falk, laughing, “I would ask you what, according to your views, may be accounted natural? Our worthy physician here, restores his patients—certainly not by unnatural means—and yet ask him on conscience, if he can comprehend why any of his drugs are efficacious? And if, when a case has succeeded beyond his expectations, he has not exclaimed, ‘Nature has done her best!’”
“I pray you, gentlemen, cease this war of words,” said the hostess. “In my opinion you have quite lost sight of the point in question. Anselm’s story, however, scarcely strikes me as being an example, as it leaves us in doubt as to whether the malady arose from the words made use of, or from the construction that might be put upon them.”
“Neither,” replied Anselm; “I think I gave you to understand that Amalia had been for some time previously in an exalted frame of mind. The enthusiastic admiration she expressed for the minister’s very excellent, but certainly not extraordinary discourse, alone sufficed to show a high degree of excitement: those very expressions were perhaps symptomatic of her disorder, and their import was darkened by a shadow of prophecy cast upon them by singularly coinciding circumstances.”
“Then you acknowledge,” said the hostess, “that the case in point presents nothing unnatural or out of the common.”
“Certainly nothing unnatural. I am of Falk’s opinion that in nature, where all is open to our inspection, nothing contrary to her laws can take place. But truly the wonderful prevails!”
“May I beg you,” said Elisa, “to explain to us if these appearances may not be termed unnatural, which are so difficult to be accounted for that it is as though nature herself solicited the aid of a foreign power, and used it with regret? I am too inexperienced to express myself with sufficient clearness, but perhaps you will give a form to my confused ideas.”
“You have spoken very intelligibly,” replied Falk, “on a subject which, as you observe, even nature herself treats obscurely. Could you not oblige us with an instance, it would render the discussion easier.”
“Oh!” said Elisa laughing, “that would lead us to a ghost story.”
“And why not?” interposed Herrmann. “Who is not willing to listen to one? See, Anselm is all attention.”
The request was general that Elisa would relate a case in point; but she excused herself saying “that, with all her fondness for listening to a story, she should feel very timid at relating one.”
Her betrothed smiling, said he could guess her meaning, and if she felt diffident would, with her permission, relate the circumstance she alluded to.
Elisa consented, requesting only an alteration of the names. This was of course acceded to, and the baron proceeded:—
“A very near relation of my Elisa, and a little dreamer like herself—we will call her Caroline—had formed the tenderest friendship for her neighbour, Angelica. The two girls were inseparable; their parents approved of their intimacy, and allowed them to pass their time alternately at each other’s house; this was particularly the case in winter, when the badness of the roads made the communication between the properties somewhat dangerous during the long nights. The father of Angelica had formerly been well acquainted with
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