me. Still, I believe that this impression has lingered in my mind, because these details have, every now and then, been rehearsed and related to me. It is, therefore, like the ghost of a thought evoked from time to time.
Till about ten years of age my life was passed in an almost claustral loneliness. I lived in a large rambling two-storied house together with my father, and his aunt. My father, however, was almost always absent, and, besides, he took but little notice of us when he was at home. My aunt as a rule got up very late, went daily to the 11 o'clock mass so that I hardly ever saw her before dinner time, at half past one. I had some toys, but no play-mate. I was pampered with dainties, surfeited with sweet meats, but as I took no exercise, I had no appetite, especially for wholesome food.
My days, withal, would have flowed by monotonously, had it not been for an infirmity of mine, which really tortured my life. I was terribly frightened of poodles, they were the bane of my existence. I did not care much for any dogs in general, but at the sight of a
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