more. But determination was wasted. This brought it about that, on more than one occasion, suddenly catching myself at the old thoughts which then bled me I gave vent to a sharp impatient 'Damn!' to the surprise of those who happened to hear me. I remember once in second lesson so losing patience with myself that, unconscious of the presence of anyone, I let fly with my foot at a form in front of me, which went over with a loud bang on to the boards in a small dust-cloud, and as I sat motionless frowning at my book, and answered nothing to the questions Craven asked me about the matter, was given the lesson to write out twice, and afterwards was called up and spoken to on the subject. I preserved complete silence, for what was the good of telling a fool of this sort, who grew furious over a false quantity and preached invertebrate sermons, the truth? I would as soon have thought of telling him a lie! Well, I wrote out the lesson twice, and there that part of the affair ended.
The Christmas holidays were an evil time. I gave myself up to, as it were, an entirely new consideration of affairs. A week's close thought, out on my walks, in bed at night, often till after twelve or one o'clock, made me look upon the Bible as a fairy tale. Then came a fortnight or so of utter confusion, inexplicable to myself: excitement of body and soul, wild dreams, visions or half-visions, a purgatory! Finally I emerged with a certain calmness to wonder at that time, wonder that it had belonged to me. It seemed so dimly far away now, and as if belonging to someone else, and yet not to someone else, and yet not to me.
The opening of the term wrought a change. A new form of the thing which had once done duty to me as woman came to me, producing an amount of longing for her and her love that frequently found vent in emotion and even tears over pencilled poetry sheets. Then Christ was introduced, as a sweet tender friend who consoled me for her present absence by telling me of her future coming. But, after a time, this too passed, and I returned to my old doubtful state, deciding that happiness was undoubtedly the end of life, and that happiness to me meant having written certain quietly de-
