h time of
it; but who has, except cowards and weaklings? Your safeguard will be in
your work."

"And my difficulty," said Hadria. "In the world that I was born into
(for my sins), when one tries to do something that other people don't
do, it is like trying to get up early in a house where the
breakfast-hour is late. Nothing fits in with one's eccentric custom;
everything conspires to discourage it."

"I wish I could give you a helping hand," said the Professor wistfully;
"but one is so powerless. Each of us has to fight the real battle of
life alone. Nobody can see with our eyes, or feel with our nerves. The
crux of the difficulty each bears for himself. But friendship can help
us to believe the struggle worth while; it can sustain our courage and
it can offer sympathy in victory,--but still more faithfully in
defeat."

CHAPTER XII.

Hadria had determined upon making a strong and patient effort to pursue
her work during the winter, while doing her best, at the same time, to
please her mother, and to make up to her, as well as she could, for
Algitha's departure. She would not be dismayed by difficulties: as the
Professor said, only cowards and weaklings escaped these. She treated
herself austerely, and found her power of concentration increasing, and
her hold on herself greater. But, as usual, her greatest effort had to
be given, not to the work itself, but to win opportunity to pursue it.
Mrs. Fullerton opposed her daughter's endeavours as firmly as ever. It
was not good for a girl to be selfishly pre-occupied. She ought to think
of others.

If Hadria yielded the point on any particular occasion, her mood and
her work were destroyed: if she resisted, they were equally destroyed,
through the nervous disturbance and the intense depression which
followed the winning of a liberty too dearly bought. The incessant
rising and quelling of her impulse and her courage--like the ebb and
flow of tides--represented a vast amount of force not merely wasted, but
expended in producing a dangerous wear and tear upon the system. The
process told upon her health, and was the beginning of the weakening and
unbalancing of the splendid constitution which Hadria, in common with
every member of the family, enjoyed as a birthright. The injury was
insidious but serious. Hadria, unable to command any certain part of the
day, began to sit up at night. This led to a direct clash of wills. Mr.
Fullerton said that the girl was doing he