me.

I avoided the sun lest I should get freckles. I collected rain-water for
washing. I slept in gloves; and though I adored sweets, I refrained from
eating them on account of my teeth. I spent hours brushing my hair.

At home there was only one looking-glass. It was in my father's room,
which I seldom entered, and was hung too high for me to use. In my
pocket-mirror I could only see one eye at a time. But I had so much
self-control that I resisted the temptation to stop and look at my
reflection in the shop windows on my way to and from school.

I was surprised when I came home one day to find that the large mirror
in its gold frame had been given over to me by my father and was hanging
in my room. I made myself quite ill with excitement, and the maid had to
put me to bed. But later on, when the house was quiet, I got up and lit
my lamp. Then I spent hours gazing at my own reflection in the glass.

Henceforth the mirror became my confidant. It procured me the one
happiness of my childhood. When I was indoors I passed most of my time
practising smiles, and forming my expression. I was seized with terror
lest I should lose the gift that was worth "a pocketful of gold."

I avoided the wild and noisy games of other girls for fear of getting
scratched. Once, however, I was playing with some of my school friends
in a courtyard. We were swinging on the shafts of a cart when I fell and
ran a nail into my cheek. The pain was nothing compared to the thought
of a permanent mark. I was depressed for months, until one day I heard a
teacher say that the mark was all but gone--a mere beauty spot.

When I sat before the looking-glass, I only thought of the future.
Childhood seemed to me a long, tiresome journey that must be got through
before I reached the goal of riches, which to me meant happiness.

Our house overlooked the dwelling of the chief magistrate. It was a
white building in the style of a palace, the walls of which were covered
in summer-time with roses and clematis, and to my eyes it was the finest
and most imposing house in the world.

It was surrounded by park-like grounds with trim lawns and tall trees.
An iron railing with gilded spikes divided it from the common world.

Sometimes when the gate was standing open I peeped inside. It seemed as
though the house came nearer and nearer to me. I caught a glimpse in
the basement of white-capped serving-maids, which seemed to me the
height of elegance. It was said t