Raspberry Jam eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 256 pages of information about Raspberry Jam.

“Just what does that mean? “and Doctor Harper looked at her curiously.

“Well,” and Aunt Abby spoke very solemnly, “Sanford appeared to me in a vision, just as he died—­”

“Oh, Aunt Abby,” Eunice groaned, “don’t begin that sort of talk!  Miss Ames is a sort of a spiritualist, doctor, and she has hallucinations.”

“Not hallucinations—­visions,” corrected the old, lady.  “And it is not an unheard of phenomenon to have a dying person appear to a friend at the moment of death.  It was the passing of Sanford, and I did see him!”

Eunice rose and left the table.  Her shattered nerves couldn’t stand this, to her mind, foolishness at the moment.

She went from the dining-room into the livingroom, and stood, gazing out of the window, but seeing nothing.

Dr. Harper pushed back his chair from the table.

“Just a word more about that, Miss Ames,” he said.  “I’m rather interested in those matters myself.  You thought you saw Mr. Embury?”

“I did see him.  It was a vague, shadowy form, but I recognized him.  He came into my room from Eunice’s room.  He paused at my bedside and leaned over me, as if for a farewell.  He said nothing—­and in a moment he disappeared.  But I know it was Sanford’s spirit taking flight.”

“This is interesting, but I can’t discuss it further now.  I have heard of such cases, but never so directly.  But my duty now is to Mrs, Embury.  I fear she will have a nervous breakdown.  May I ask you, Miss Ames, not to talk about you—­your vision to her?  I think it disturbs her.”

“Don’t you tell me, doctor, what to talk to Eunice about, and what not to!  I brought up that girl from a baby, and I know her clear through!  If it upsets her nerves to hear about my experience last night, of course, I shall not talk about it to her, but trust me, please, to know what is best to do about that!”

“Peppery women—­both of them!” was Dr. Harper’s mental comment; but he only nodded his head pleasantly and went to Eunice.

“If you’ve no objections, I’ll call Marsden here at once,” he said, already taking up the telephone.

Eunice listlessly acquiesced, and then the doctor returned to Embury’s bedroom.

He looked carefully about.  All the details of the room, the position of clothing, the opened book, face down, on the night table, the half-emptied water-glass, the penciled memorandum on the chiffonier—­all seemed to bear witness to the well, strong man, who expected to rise and go about his day as usual.

“Not a chance of suicide,” mused the doctor, hunting about the room and scrutinizing its handsome appointments.  He stepped into Embury’s bathroom, and could find nothing that gave him the least hint of anything unusual in the man’s life.  A chart near the white, enameled scale showed that Embury had recorded his weight the night before in his regular, methodical way.  The written figures were clear and firm, as always.  Positively the man had no premonition of his swiftly approaching end.

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Raspberry Jam from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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