and not the _same_ life as mine.

When I think of what I am now, and what I might have remained, I
breathe deep and feel like singing; I stretch my arms out and feel
like flying.

Our aunt told us she thought Bunratty would be dull for us, and so it
was in comparison with this place. Perhaps _this_ is dull in
comparison with what _may_ come. For good Tanty, as she likes us to
call her, is intent on doing great things for us.

"Je vous marierai," she tells us in her funny old French, "Je vous
marierai bien, mes filles, si vous etes sages," and she winks both
eyes.

_Marriage!_ _That_, it is quite evident, is the goal of every properly
constituted young female; and every respectable person who has the
care of said young female is consequently bent upon her reaching that
goal.

So marriage is _another_ good thing to look forward to. And _love_,
that love all the verses, all the books one reads are so full of;
_that_ will come to us.

They say that _love is life_. Well, all I want is to live. But with a
grey past such as we have had, the present is good enough to ponder
upon. We now can lie abed if we have sweet dreams and pursue them
waking, and be lazy, yet not be troubled with the self-indulgence as
with an enormity; or we can rise and breathe the sunshine at our own
time. We can be frivolous, and yet meet with smiles in response, dress
our hair and persons, and be pleased with ourselves, and with being
admired or envied, yet not be told horrid things about death and
corruption and skeletons. And, above all--oh, above _all_, we can
think of the future as different from the past, as _changing_, be it
even for the worse; as unknown and fascinating, not as a repetition,
until death, of the same dreary round.

In Mrs. Hambledon's parlour here are huge glasses at either end;
whenever you look into them you see a never-ending chain of rooms with
yourself standing in the middle, vanishing in the distance, every one
the same, with the same person in the middle, only a little smaller, a
little more insignificant, a little darker, till it all becomes
_nothing_. It always reminds me of life's prospects in the convent.

I dislike that room. When I told Mrs. Hambledon the reason why, she
laughed, and promised me that, with my looks and disposition, my life
would be eventful enough. I have every mind that it shall.

* * * * *

_October 18th._--Yesterday, I woke up in an amazing state of
ha