"And what is the matter?" he asked.

"Doctor," said she, a tear forcing itself into each of her beautiful
eyes, "I believe I am losing my mind."

"Indeed," said the doctor; "and how is your general health?"

"Oh, that's all right," answered Miss Dora. "I do not think there is the
least thing the matter with me that way. It is all my mind. It has been
failing me for a good while."

"How?" he asked. "What are the symptoms?"

"Oh, there are ever so many of them," she said; "I can't think of them
all. I have lost all interest in everything in this world. You remember
how much interest I used to take in things?"

"Indeed I do," said he.

"The world is getting to be all a blank to me," she said; "everything
is blank."

"Your meals?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Of course I must eat to live."

"And sleep?"

"Oh, I sleep well enough. Indeed, I wish I could sleep all the time, so
that I could not know how the world--at least its pleasures and