“Yes that is another affair. According to one eyewitness that is no more
than the disembodied can do. I must confess, however, that, although
well attested, the story is to me scarcely credible. Fancy a glass of
Bavarian beer lifted into the air without a visible hand, turned upside
down, and set empty on the table!--and no splash on the floor or
anywhere else!”
A solitary gleam of humour shone through the great eyes of the
spectacles as he spoke.
“Oh, uncle! how can you believe such nonsense!” said Janet.
“I did not say I believed it--did I? But why not? The story has at least
a touch of imagination in it.”
“That is a strange reason for believing a thing, uncle,” said Harry.
“You might have a worse, Harry. I grant it is not sufficient; but it is
better than that commonplace aspect which is the ground of most faith. I
believe I did say that the story puzzled me.”
“But how can you give it any quarter at all, uncle?”
“It does me no harm. There it is--between the boards of an old German
book. There let it remain.”
“Well, you will never persuade me to believe such things,” said Janet.
“Wait till I ask you, Janet,” returned her uncle, gravely. “I have not
the slightest desire to convince you. How did we get into this
unprofitable current of talk? We will change it at once. How are
consols, Harry?”
“Oh, uncle!” said Kate, “we were longing for a story, and just as I
thought you were coming to one, off you go to consols!”
“I thought a ghost story at least was coming,” said Janet.
“You did your best to stop it, Janet,” said Harry.
Janet began an angry retort, but Cornelius interrupted her. “You never
heard me tell a ghost story, Janet.”
“You have just told one about a drinking ghost, uncle,” said Janet--in
such a tone that Cornelius replied--
“Well, take that for your story, and let us talk of something else.”
Janet apparently saw that she had been rude, and said as sweetly as she
might--“Ah! but you didn’t make that one, uncle. You got it out of a
German book.”
“Make it!--Make a ghost story!” repeated Cornelius. “No; that I never
did.”
“Such things are not to be trifled with, are they?” said Janet.
“I at least have no inclination to trifle with them.”
“But, really and truly, uncle,” persisted Janet, “you don’t believe in
such things?”
“Why should I either believe or disbelieve in them? They are not
essential to salvation, I presume.”
“You must do the one or the other, I suppose.”
“I beg your pardon. You suppose wrong. It would take twice the proof I
have ever had to make me believe in them; and exactly your prejudice,
and allow me to say ignorance, to make me disbelieve in them. Neither is
within my reach. I postpone judgment. But you, young people, of course,
are wiser, and know all about the question.”
“Oh, uncle! I’m so sorry!” said Kate. “I’m sure I did not mean to vex
you.”
“Not at all, not at all, my dear.--It wasn’t you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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