er
girls' mothers comfort them when they are wretched. If my mother had
lived--it's useless to think about that. We lost her, while I and my
sister were too young to understand our misfortune.

I wish I had never seen Philip.

This seems an ungrateful wish. Seeing him at the picture-show was a new
enjoyment. Sitting next to him at dinner was a happiness that I don't
recollect feeling, even when Papa has been most sweet and kind to me.
I ought to be ashamed of myself to confess this. Shall I write to my
sister? But how should she know what is the matter with me, when I don't
know it myself? Besides, Helena is angry; she wrote unkindly to me when
she answered my last letter.

There is a dreadful loneliness in this great house at night. I had
better say my prayers, and try to sleep. If it doesn't make me feel
happier, it will prevent me spoiling my Journal by dropping tears on it.

.......

What an evening of evenings this has been! Last night it was crying that
kept me awake. To-night I can't sleep for joy.

Philip called on us again to-day. He brought with him tickets for the
performance of an Oratorio. Sacred music is not forbidden music among
our people. Mrs. Staveley and Miss Staveley went to the concert with us.
Philip and I sat next to each other.

My sister is a musician--I am nothing. That sounds bitter; but I don't
mean it so. All I mean is, that I like simple little songs, which I
can sing to myself by remembering the tune. There, my musical enjoyment
ends. When voices and instruments burst out together by hundreds, I feel
bewildered. I also get attacked by fidgets. This last misfortune is sure
to overtake me when choruses are being performed. The unfortunate people
employed are made to keep singing the same words, over and over and over
again, till I find it a perfect misery to listen to them. The choruses
were unendurable in the performance to-night. This is one of them: "Here
we are all alone in the wilderness--alone in the wilderness--in the
wilderness alone, alone, alone--here we are in the wilderness--alone in
the wilderness--all all alone in the wilderness," and soon, till I felt
inclined to call for the learned person who writes Oratorios, and beg
him to give the poor music a more generous allowance of words.

Whenever I looked at Philip, I found him looking at me. Perhaps he saw
from the first that the music was wearying music to my ignorant ears.
With his usual delicacy he said nothing for som