The Open Door, and the Portrait. - Stories of the Seen and the Unseen. by Mrs. (Margaret) Oliphant
page 91 of 103 (88%)
page 91 of 103 (88%)
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the black border caught my eye. And I was conscious that he too gave a
hurried glance at them, and with one hand swept them away. "Philip," he said, pushing back his chair, "you must be ill, my poor boy. Evidently we have not been treating you rightly; you have been more ill all through than I supposed. Let me persuade you to go to bed." "I am perfectly well," I said. "Father, don't let us deceive one another. I am neither a man to go mad nor to see ghosts. What it is that has got the command over me I can't tell; but there is some cause for it. You are doing something or planning something with which I have a right to interfere." He turned round squarely in his chair, with a spark in his blue eyes. He was not a man to be meddled with. "I have yet to learn what can give my son a right to interfere. I am in possession of all my faculties, I hope." "Father," I cried, "won't you listen to me? No one can say I have been undutiful or disrespectful. I am a man, with a right to speak my mind, and I have done so; but this is different. I am not here by my own will. Something that is stronger than I has brought me. There is something in your mind which disturbs--others. I don't know what I am saying. This is not what I meant to say; but you know the meaning better than I. Some one--who can speak to you only by me--speaks to you by me; and I know that you understand." He gazed up at me, growing pale, and his underlip fell. I, for my part, felt that my message was delivered. My heart sank into a stillness so sudden that it made me faint. The light swam in my eyes; everything went |
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