was not
at all a nice girl.

"_September_ 8.--Joy, joy, joy!"

I think I can explain this entry. MARY BINDLER had been called away
hurriedly. Somebody was dead, or something of that sort. My friend's
expression of relief seems to me very pretty and natural.

"_September_ 9.--Ah!"

"_September_ 10.--Oh!"

In that little word "Ah!" there is the whole history of a pic-nic and
a carriage accident. It was there that she first guessed his feelings
towards her. I am sorry to say that I have not been able to obtain
any adequate explanation of the "Oh!" But I know they went out after
dinner to see if it was possible to play tennis by moonlight. I
conclude that it was not, for the next entry, which consists simply of
a note of exclamation, is really a record of her engagement.

Of course I need not point out the impropriety of mixing in the pages
of your Diary the record of the most sacred emotions, and notes of
things more commonplace. I knew a girl who invariably did this. She
always commenced with an account of any money that she might have
spent during the day. I have managed, with considerable difficulty, to
make a copy of one of these entries, and I give it as a warning:--

"Chocolate, one-and-six. ALGERNON has written to me, asking me to see
him again for the last time. I have written back that my decision
is unalterable. It breaks my heart to have to be so cruel--but fate
wills it, and it's no good fighting against Mamma. Sent my grey to be
cleaned--but it won't look anything when it's done."

In another entry I found the following:--

"A dear long letter from EGBERT. How perfect his sympathy is! Not
feeling very well to-day--will always refuse _vol-au-vent_ in future."

I need hardly say that a girl who would chronicle the state of her
digestion and the sympathy of her lover in one paragraph could not
possibly have any soul.

The perfect Diary is something of a paradox. It should be composed
chiefly of what is unpublishable--of one's secrets and sentiments--but
it should always be written as if with a view to publication. In your
Diary you can say things about yourself which it would be conceited to
say openly, and you can say things about your friends which it would
be unkind to say openly; you can make your own pose seem more real
to yourself. So, my dear young girls, take my advice, and commence
Diaries. And remember I shall be very glad to answer any questions on
the subject.

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