Кармилла

           "Inonecorner,atthetopofit,isthename,aswellasIcouldread,‘MarciaKarnstein,’andthedate‘1698’;andIamcurioustoseehowithasturnedout."

           Irememberedit;itwasasmallpicture,aboutafootandahalfhigh,andnearlysquare,withoutaframe;butitwassoblackenedbyagethatIcouldnotmakeitout.

           Theartistnowproducedit,withevidentpride.Itwasquitebeautiful;itwasstartling;itseemedtolive.ItwastheeffigyofCarmilla!

           "Carmilla,dear,hereisanabsolutemiracle.Hereyouare,living,smiling,readytospeak,inthispicture.Isn’titbeautiful,Papa?Andsee,eventhelittlemoleonherthroat."

           Myfatherlaughed,andsaid"Certainlyitisawonderfullikeness,"buthelookedaway,andtomysurpriseseemedbutlittlestruckbyit,andwentontalkingtothepicturecleaner,whowasalsosomethingofanartist,anddiscoursedwithintelligenceabouttheportraitsorotherworks,whichhisarthadjustbroughtintolightandcolor,whileIwasmoreandmorelostinwonderthemoreIlookedatthepicture.

           "Willyouletmehangthispictureinmyroom,papa?"Iasked.

           "Certainly,dear,"saidhe,smiling,"I’mverygladyouthinkitsolike.ItmustbeprettiereventhanIthoughtit,ifitis."

           Theyoungladydidnotacknowledgethisprettyspeech,didnotseemtohearit.Shewasleaningbackinherseat,herfineeyesundertheirlonglashesgazingonmeincontemplation,andshesmiledinakindofrapture.

           "Andnowyoucanreadquiteplainlythenamethatiswritteninthecorner.