Journal Entry 70 - July 24th, 1895 – 10:15 p.m.
In my agitated curiosity, I wandered through the adjoining hall and found myself staring upon a family portrait. Such an ethereal work of art it is. For but a second, I beheld the mother and father, who were both gaunt and pale; however, their features were stately and held a singular beauty. Then the flame of my candle weakened and faded. Notwithstanding the darkness, the tree limbs and their leaves outside the window were positioned precisely to where, with each bolt of lightning, the fleeting glare fell only upon the couple’s little son and the black cat he holds in his arms. A sense of grief swept over me in that split-second glimpse.
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