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Updated: June 14, 2025
When we were half through breakfast, Selphar came down, blushing, and frightened half out of her wits, her apologies tumbling over each other with such skill as to render each one unintelligible, and evidently undecided in her own mind whether she was to be hung or burnt at the stake. "It's no matter at all," said mother, kindly; "I knew you felt sick last night.
We said nothing about it, but Selphar did. The delusion, if delusion it were, clung to her, haunted her, pursued her, week after week. To rid her of it, or to silence her, was impossible.
The economy of the arrangement decided in her favor; for, in spite of our grand descent and grander notions, we were poor enough, after father died, and the education of three children had made no small gap in our little principal, and she came. Her name was a singular one, Selphar. It always savored too nearly of brimstone to please me. I used to call her Sel, "for short."
I see them on a blackberry-bush; they've got little brass buttons on the wrist." Three rods past now, and we could not see our horse's head. "Selphar," said my mother, quickly, "what is the matter with you?" "If you please, ma'am, I don't know," replied the girl, hanging her head. "May I get out and bring 'em to you?" Prince was reined up, and Sel got out.
"Selphar," said my mother, a little suspiciously, "how did you know the robbers were there?" "Robbers!" said the girl, aghast. She knew nothing of the robbers. She knew nothing of the ear-ring. She remembered nothing that had happened since she went up the garret-stairs to bed, the night before. And, as I said, the girl was as honest as the sunlight.
Also, that her room looked out upon the opposite side of the house from that on which the well-curb stood. "Why, look at Sel!" said Clara, suddenly, "she has her eyes shut." The girl was just passing the toast. Mother spoke to her. "Selphar, what is the matter?" "I don't know." "Why don't you open your eyes?" "I can't." "Hand the salt to Miss Sarah."
When we told her what had happened, she burst into terrified tears. For some time after this there was no return of the "tantrums," as Selphar had called the condition, whatever it was. I began to get up vague theories of a trance state. But mother said, "Nonsense!" and Clara was too much frightened to reason at all about the matter. One Sunday morning Sel complained of a headache.
Selphar had seen Aunt Alice. We sat down and looked at one another. There was a singular pinched look about my mother's mouth. "Sarah." "Yes." "She says" and then she told me what she said. She had seen Alice Stuart in a Western town, seven hundred miles away. Among the living, she desired to be counted of the dead. And that was all.
O yes, Creston understood it perfectly. Space forbids me to relate in detail the clews which Selphar had given as to the whereabouts of the wanderer.
When we were half through breakfast, Selphar came down, blushing, and frightened half out of her wits, her apologies tumbling over each other with such skill as to render each one unintelligible, and evidently undecided in, her own mind whether she was to be hung or burnt at the stake. "It's no matter at all," said mother, kindly; "I knew you felt sick last night.
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