She was seen to see; her forehead had a
singular aspect; an inward effort appeared there; it seemed to clear
or cloud by some mysterious power, the effects of which Minoret had
seen in dying persons at moments when they appeared to have the gift
of prophecy. Several times she made gestures which resembled those of
Ursula.
"Question her," said the mysterious stranger, to Minoret, "she will
tell you secrets you alone can know."
"Does Ursula love me?" asked Minoret.
"Almost as much as she loves God," was the answer. "But she is very
unhappy at your unbelief. You do not believe in God; as if you could
prevent his existence! His word fills the universe. You are the cause
of her only sorrow.--Hear! she is playing scales; she longs to be a
better musician than she is; she is provoked with herself. She is
thinking, 'If I could sing, if my voice were fine, it would reach his
ear when he is with his mother.'"
Doctor Minoret took out his pocket-book and noted the hour.
"Tell me what seeds she planted?"
"Mignonette, sweet-peas, balsams--"
"And what else?"
"Larkspur."
"Where is my money?"
"With your notary; but you invest it so as not to lose the interest of
a single day.
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