for him.

The 23rd.

Last night I dreamt much, and very reflective dreams. In one of them, I
again met Halding, who for years has never troubled my thoughts. I
spoke to him as indifferently as ever, and asked after his wife and
children. I was glad to hear that they were very well. Then still in my
dream, I considered what would have been my lot, had I accepted his
hand. I should now be established in America, in a fine house, and have
riches and health, for I should not have passed through the sufferings
of the last years, in my father's house--I should not be thinking of
dying. I thought over all this, as I saw the red cheeked wife, who had
so soon consoled him after my refusal--I shuddered at the idea of such
happiness. This may appear foolish, full of pretension, and
ingratitude. What fault could I find in him except that I did not love
him. Many people found him most amiable, and I thought him even too
much so, for a man. As a woman he would have made the best, most
docile, and virtuous of wives, but just for that reason would, as a
husband have made me most wretched. More than once I have been given to
understand that my character was too determined and energetic for a
girl. Did not the long lecture of the life preserver tend to show me
how deficient I was in feminine timidity and reserve. If this be true
the fault lies with my destiny, which threw me early in life on my own
resources, and made me independent. One to whom the world and life
makes advances may well await its approach but one who must confront
its struggles, cannot do without reliance on God, and on himself. If I
required any proof that no unwomanly boldness, no desire of dominating
lies in my character, I would find it in my dislike to womanish men,
who must lean for support on a wife; and towards manly women who only
find their happiness in ruling.

The 26th.

A few quiet and uniform days have passed. I felt very languid and
disinclined to everything and I remained at home, as the change from
the hot sunshine to the dark arcades always hurts me. I read, and
played a few sonatas, and felt that even solitude brings many heavy
hours with it.

To-day I walked out and the first person I met was Mr. Morrik, as he
really is called--I heard an acquaintance address him by that name. We
sat for a long time together on a bench amidst th