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Updated: June 6, 2025
When the first dresses which had been ordered for her came home, she was delighted as any girl must have been, for they were the richest and most beautiful fabrics that money could buy; but Miss Ludington seemed, of the two, far the more pleased. For herself she had cared nothing for dress.
A tranquil happiness succeeded his exalted mood, and, lying down, he slept soundly till noon, when he went downstairs to find Miss Ludington anxiously waiting for him to reassure her that her recollection of the last night was not altogether a dream, as she had half convinced herself since waking.
Rhinehart's letter had affected her almost as strongly as Mrs. Slater's talk. The fact that Mrs. Legrand had at once seen the reasonableness and probability of the belief in the immortality of past selves made it difficult for Miss Ludington to think of her as a mere vulgar impostor.
She remembers and loves you as you would remember and love that child; but you do not know her any more than that child would know you. You both share the name of Ida Ludington, according to the usage of men as to names; but I think there is no danger of your being confounded with each other, either in your own eyes or those of lookers-on." Ida had at last comprehended.
The lips were parted in a pleased smile as, with a gliding motion, she approached the rapt watchers. Her eyes rested on Miss Ludington with a look full of recognition and a tenderness that seemed beyond the power of mortal eyes to express. Then she looked at Paul. Her smile was no longer the smile of an angel, but of a woman.
"I am so glad," Miss Ludington said to her one day, "that you are Ida Slater, and not my Ida." "Why are you glad?" Ida asked. "Would you not have been happier if you had gone on believing me to be your girlish self?" "I should have grown very sad by this time if I had continued to think that you were she?" replied Miss Ludington.
Ida wore a white satin with a low corsage, and as she stood directly below the picture, the resemblance impressed the beholders very strikingly. It was as if the girl had stepped down from the picture to be married. Ida had demurred a little to standing just there, which had been the suggestion of Miss Ludington.
But of all this fabric of the past which she had resurrected, the central figure was the school-girl Ida Ludington. The restored village was the mausoleum of her youth. Over the great old-fashioned fireplace, in the sitting-room of the homestead which she had rebuilt in the midst of the village, she had hung a portrait in oil, by the first portrait-painter then in the country.
Each day, almost each hour, discovered to him some new trait, some unsuspected grace of mind or heart, till, in this glowing girl, so bright, so blithe, so piquant, he had difficulty in recognizing any likeness, save of face and form, to the moody, freakish, melancholy, hysterical, and altogether eerie Ida Ludington.
"If entire accuracy is sought the first person cannot be properly employed by any one in referring either to his past or his future selves, to what has been done or to what will be done by them." At this moment the carriage drew up before the house, and Paul helped the ladies out. Miss Ludington greeted Dr. Hull cordially, and stopped upon the piazza in hat and shawl to talk with him.
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