ALICE and PHOEBE CARY were among my truest, best, and dearest friends. I was introduced to them by Mr. Greeley when we first came to New York, and our friendship continued during their life. We passed many pleasant evenings with the sisters and a few select friends. The last time I saw Phoebe, we met in Arnold's store, the day before we sailed for Europe. She came and sat down beside me, and laid her hand gently on mine before I saw her. I was delighted to see her, but was startled by her changed appearance. I rallied her a little, and tried to cheer her. She smiled faintly, but not as she was wont to do. Phoebe had made a confidante of me some time before. She called on me late one afternoon, and sent up word to me to come at once, as she could remain but a short time. It was an unexpected call, at that hour, and I hastened to see her as soon as possible. She said, "I could not rest without seeing you. Sit down. I want to talk with you." I inquired about Alice's health, as usual, and she said, "Alice will never be any better. What shall I do when she leaves me? I cannot live without her." Her dark expressive eyes spoke more than her words. I tried to console her, but I did not know the nature of the incurable disease that was slowly but surely wearing Alice's life away. She remained some time, and when leaving me at the door her eyes filled with tears. Mr. Robert Cary (their father), and his elder daughter, from Cincinnati, always visited us when they were in New York, and they both related many interesting occurrences which they had witnessed in their own family. I will here relate their "Ghost Story," as they told it to me. "There had been a thunder-storm, and the pouring rain had driven all into the house. Our new house was finished, but we had not yet moved into it. This new house stood opposite the old one. The rain was over, and the sun was shining brightly when our mother called out, and asked, 'How it came that Rhoda and Lucy were in the new house?' "The door of the new house was open, and there stood Rhoda, in plain sight, holding Lucy in her arms. The whole family came to the door, and all saw the same. They called 'Rhoda!' but received no answer. They supposed Rhoda had gone with Lucy into the house to escape the rain; when at this moment Rhoda came down-stairs where she had left Lucy asleep. She, too, saw what we had seen--the apparition of her own 'wraith' with that of Lucy in her arms. "All felt solemnly impressed, and believed it to be a warning of something sorrowful. They went over immediately, and examined every part of the house, but not a trace of any human being was discernible. Rhoda died within a year, and Lucy a month later. They frequently saw Spirits distinctly." (For further particulars of these events see a "Memorial of Alice and Phoebe Cary," by Mary Clemmer.)