appearance and the appearance of its occupants might prove convincing.

At home my visit came as a complete surprise. I could not believe that
my relatives--if they were relatives--had not been informed of my
presence in the city, and their words and actions upon my arrival
confirmed my suspicion and extinguished the faint hope I had briefly
cherished. My hosts were simply the same old persecutors with whom I
had already had too much to do. Soon after my arrival, dinner was
served. I sat at my old place at the table, and secretly admired the
skill with which he who asked the blessing imitated the language and
the well-remembered intonation of my father's voice. But alas for the
family!--I imagined my relatives banished and languishing in prison,
and the old home confiscated by the government!




XI


Though my few hours at home failed to prove that I did not belong in an
institution, it served one good purpose. Certain relatives who had
objected to my commitment now agreed that there was no alternative,
and, accordingly, my eldest brother caused himself to be appointed my
conservator. He had long favored taking such action, but other
relatives had counseled delay. They had been deterred by that inbred
dread of seeing a member of the family branded by law as a mental
incompetent, and, to a degree, stigmatized by the prevailing
unwarranted attitude of the public toward mental illness and the
institutions in which mental cases are treated. The very thought was