no matter how unreasonable or how angry he may be when he hears
what has happened. I begin already to feel hopeful of the future.

CHAPTER XXX. EUNICE'S DIARY.

Through the day, and through the night, I feel a misery that never
leaves me--I mean the misery of fear.

I am trying to find out some harmless means of employing myself, which
will keep evil remembrances from me. If I don't succeed, my fear tells
me what will happen. I shall be in danger of going mad.

I dare not confide in any living creature. I don't know what other
persons might think of me, or how soon I might find myself perhaps in an
asylum. In this helpless condition, doubt and fright seem to be driving
me back to my Journal. I wonder whether I shall find harmless employment
here.

I have heard of old people losing their memories. What would I not give
to be old! I remember! oh, how I remember! One day after another I see
Philip, I see Helena, as I first saw them when I was among the trees in
the park. My sweetheart's arms, that once held me, hold my sister now.
She kisses him, kisses him, kisses him.

Is there no way of making myself see something else? I want to get back
to remembrances that don't burn in my head and tear at my heart. How is
it to be done?

I have tried books--no! I have tried going out to look at the shops--no!
I have tried saying my prayers--no! And now I am making my last effort;
trying my pen. My black letters fall from it, and take their places
on the white paper. Will my black letters help me? Where can I find
something consoling to write down? Where? Where?

Selina--poor Selina, so fond of me, so sorry for me. When I was happy,
she was happy, too. It was always amusing to hear her talk. Oh, my
memory, be good to me! Save me from Philip and Helena. I want to
remember the pleasant days when my kind little friend and I used to
gossip in the garden.

No: the days in the garden won't come back. What else can I think of?

.......

The recollections that I try to encourage keep away from me. The other
recollections that I dread, come crowding back. Still Philip! Still
Helena!

But Selina mixes herself up with them. Let me try again if I can think
of Selina.

How delightfully good to me and patient with me she was, on our dismal
way home from the park! And how affectionately she excused herself for
not having warned me of it, when she first suspected that my own sister
and my worst enemy were one and the same!

"