seemed
to me as idle; but all his words were precious, and all my soul was in
his hand. When, at that moment, the sound of wheels upon the gravel
came, and the sound of laughter and of voices, I sprang up; he caught me
in his arms and held me closely. Another moment, the parting was over,
and I was kneeling by my bed up-stairs, weeping, sobbing, hopeless.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE WORLD GOES ON THE SAME.

Into my chamber brightly
Came the early sun's good-morrow;
On my restless bed, unsightly,
I sat up in my sorrow.

_Faust._

It is an amazing thing, the strength and power of pride. Pride, and the
law of self-respect and self-preservation in our being, is the force
that holds us in our course. When we reflect upon it, how few of all the
myriads fly out from it and are lost. That I ate my meals; that I
dressed myself with care; that I took walks and drives: that I did not
avoid my companions, and listened patiently to what they chose to say:
these were the evidences of that centripetal law within that was keeping
me from destruction. It would be difficult to imagine a person more
unhappy. Undisciplined and unfortified by the knowledge that
disappointment is an integral part of all lives, there had suddenly come
upon me a disappointment the most total. It covered everything; there
was not a flicker of hope or palliation. And I had no idea where to go
to make myself another hope, or in what course lay palliation. As we
have prepared ourselves or have been prepared, so is the issue of our
temptations. My great temptation came upon me, foolish, ignorant,
unprepared: the wonder would have been if I had resisted it to my
own credit.

The days went on as usual at R----, and I must hold my place among the
careless daughters and not let them see my trouble. Careless daughters,
indeed they were, and I shuddered at the thought of their cold eyes: no
doubt their eyes, bright as well as cold, saw that something was amiss
with me; with all my bravery, I could not keep the signs of wretchedness
out of my pale face. But they never knew the story, and they could only
guess at what made me wretched. It is amazing (again) what power there
is in silence, and how much you can keep in your hands if you do not
open them. People may surmise--may invent, but they cannot know your
secret unless you tell it to them, and their imaginings take so many
forms, the multitude of things that they create blot out all