ender us uncomplaining through a sense of moral dignity.

The first six months succeeding my rupture with Claude Bainrothe went
by like a leaden dream. My heart lay like a stone in my bosom, and the
gloss had dropped from life, and the glory from the face of Nature for
me, in that dreary interval, as though I had grown suddenly old.

In routine, in occupation alone, I found relief and companionship. I
compelled myself to teach Mabel, and pursue my own studies, lest my mind
should fall back on my body, and destroy both.

A nervous peculiarity manifested itself about this time, that was
singularly distressing to me, and which I confided to no one, not even
that excellent physician who kept a quiet and observant eye fixed upon
me during all this period of my probation.

I became nervously but not mentally convinced of the want of substance
in every thing around me, and have repeatedly risen and crossed the
room, and touched an article on the opposite side, to compel my better
judgment to the conviction that it was indeed tangible and substantial,
and not the merest shadow of a shade.

I was sustained in my resolution to conquer this besetting weakness,
from a vague horror and fear that, should I suffer it to gain further
ascendency, I might fall back into habitual lethargies, and, remembering
what Dr. Pemberton had said, I was determined, if possible, to throw off
that incubus of my being, by the strength of my own will, aided by God's
mercy.

There were no uttered prayers to this effect, that I remember, but an
unceasing cry for strength, for light, went up from my heart, as
continuously as the waters of a fountain, to the ear of my Creator. I
have thought sometimes that, in this persistent wrestle of mind with
matter, enduring so many weeks and months, so many weary, woful days
and sleepless nights, the physical demon was exorcised at last, that had
ruled my life so long, or was reduced to feeble efforts thereafter.

Once when Dr. Pemberton's attendance had been necessary to me, during a
severe spell of pleurisy, he said when I was recovering: "There is some
favorable change at work in your constitution, Miriam, it seems to me.
We hear no more of the 'obliteration spells,'" for thus he called my
seizures.

"Your drops have banished them, dear doctor, I suppose," I rejoined,
with a faint smile.

"They may have aided to do so," he said, gravely, "but I think I have
observed, Miriam, that you were doing good work