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A Strange Story, Vol. 7
E. B. Lytton

Page 1 of 139

 

This eBook was produced by Andrew Heath
and David Widger, widger@cecomet.net 

CHAPTER LXIV. 

Lilian's wondrous gentleness of nature did not desert her in the
suspension of her reason.  She was habitually calm,--very silent; when she
spoke it was rarely on earthly things, on things familiar to her past,
things one could comprehend.  Her thought seemed to have quitted the
earth, seeking refuge in some imaginary heaven.  She spoke of wanderings
with her father as if he were living still; she did not seem to understand
the meaning we attach to the word "Death." She would sit for hours
murmuring to herself: when one sought to catch the words, they seemed in
converse with invisible spirits.  We found it cruel to disturb her at
such times, for if left unmolested, her face was serene,--more serenely
beautiful than I had seen it even in our happiest hours; but when we
called her back to the wrecks of her real life, her eye became troubled,
restless, anxious, and she would sigh--oh, so heavily! At times, if we

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