en a window or go out of a door any more. I have the dimmest
sort of diabolical pleasure in thinking how miserable I shall make
Susie by telling her all this; but in other respects I seem
entirely devoid of all moral sentiments. I have arrived at this
state of things, first by catching cold, and since trying to 'amuse
myself' for three days."

He goes on to give a list of his amusements--Pickwick, chivalric
romances, the _Daily Telegraph_, Staunton's games of chess, and finally
analysis of the Dock Company's bill of charges on a box from Venice.

Ten days after he wrote from Oxford, in his whimsical style:

"Yesterday I had two lovely services in my own cathedral. You know
the _Cathedral_ of Oxford is the chapel of Christ Church College,
and I have my high seat in the chancel, as an honorary student,
besides being bred there, and so one is ever so proud and ever so
pious all at once, which is ever so nice you know: and my own dean,
that's the Dean of Christ Church, who is as big as any bishop, read
the services, and the psalms and anthems were lovely; and then I
dined with Henry Acland and his family ... but I do wish I could be
at Brantwood too." Next day it was "Cold quite gone."

But he was not to be quit so easily this time of the results of overwork
and worry.

He had been passing through the unpleasant experience of a
misunderstanding with one of his most trusted friends and helpers. His
work on behalf of the St. George's Guild had been energetic and sincere:
and he had received the support of a number of strangers, among whom
were people of responsible station and position. But he was surprised to
find that many of his personal friends held aloof. He was still more
surprised to learn, on returning from Venice, full of new hope and
stronger convictions in his mission, that the caution of one upon whom
he had counted as a firm ally had dissuaded an intending adherent from
joining in the work. A man of the world, accustomed to overreach and to
be overreached, would have taken the discovery coolly, and accepted an
explanation. But Ruskin was never a man of the world; and now, much less
than ever. He took it as treason to the great work of which he felt
himself to be the missionary. Throughout the autumn and winter the
discovery rankled, and preyed on his mind. As for the sake of absolute
candour he had published in "Fors" everything that rela