a Keller felt nothing but disgust for her seducer. Later on the
latter would no doubt deny the fact of his paternity; but he had
tacitly admitted this by the payment of eighty francs.

Frieda had to pay five francs a week to the Foundling Hospital and
also thirty-four francs to her married sister. In 1901 her father
died, and in 1903 her mother. Frieda inherited 2,471 francs from her
father, but this sum was tied up in her brother's business and he
never sent her the interest. It is characteristic of her mentality
that she never attempted to exact it.

Then began for this unfortunate young girl a life of struggle and
despair. She was possessed of two ideas. On the one hand she could no
longer maintain her child, and on the other hand would not admit
anything from shame. They would not keep the child in the hospital
after Easter, 1904, when it would reach the maximum age of five years.
What was she to do?

Frieda Keller was then evidently in a pathological state of mind,
which was upheld by her defender, Doctor Janggen. She wished to keep
her secret and provide for the maintenance of the child; but she took
no steps in this direction. She did not seek for cheap lodgings, not
for a rise of salary, nor even for the money illegally detained by her
brother for his own profit. She never spoke to her married sister, nor
to any one, of her desperate position. The father of her child had
disappeared and she never gave information against him for fear of
divulging her secret. Moreover, the law at St. Gall only admitted the
charge of paternity against unmarried men! She found no practical way
of disposing of her child. After Easter, 1904, when the child was
discharged from the hospital, she was haunted by a single idea--to get
rid of the child. She struggled for a long time against this
obsession, but in vain, and it finally became a resolution.

Although she was fond of her sister's children, she did not love her
own. She rarely visited her child and appeared to take no notice of
it. This woman who was well-disposed toward every other creature, who
was of exemplary conduct and would not hurt a fly, never even spoke of
her own child. On April 9th she wrote to the hospital that she would
come and fetch the child.

A few days before this she took a long walk in the woods; the next day
she wept at home, while looking for some string. Alone with her
despair, she had definitely made her terrible resolution. She said
afterwards, a