the resolve to school herself in every particular soon enabled her to tend the little ones with much patience, and insensibly she grew fond of them. Until she had overcome her awkwardness in every task, it cost her no little effort to get through the day; at bedtime she ached in every joint, and morning oppressed her with a sick lassitude. Conscious however, of Mrs. Halliday's forbearance, she would not spare herself, and it soon surprised her to discover that the rigid performance of what seemed an ignoble task brought its reward. Her first success in polishing a grate gave her more delight than she had known since childhood. She summoned her friend to look, to admire, to praise.
"Haven't I done it well? Could you do it better yourself?"
"Admirable!"
Rosamund waved her black-lead brush and tasted victory.
The process of acclimatisation naturally affected her health. In a month's time she began to fear that she must break down; she suffered painful disorders, crept out of sight to moan and shed a tear. Always faint, she had no appetite for wholesome food. Tossing on her bed at night she said to herself a thousand times: "I must go on even if I die!" Her religion took the form of asceticism and bade her rejoice in her miseries; she prayed constantly and at times knew the solace of an infinite self-glorification. In such a mood she once said to Mrs. Halliday:
"Don't you think I deserve some praise for the step I took?"
"You certainly deserve both praise and thanks from me."
"But I mean—it isn't every one who could have done it? I've a right to feel myself superior to the ordinary run of girls?"
The other gave her an embarrassed look, and murmured a few satisfying words. Later in the same day she talked to Rosamund about her health and insisted on making certain changes which allowed her to take more open-air exercise. The result of thiswas
