"I am tired."

"You must be ill; where do you feel pain?"

"Everywhere!--Come, Aunt, don't disturb me, I am composing."

"Ah!"

"Oh! there is nothing like the rolling of a carriage to give ideas."

"Aha! That's different; well, well, I didn't know."

And she left me to compose at my ease. Then, after a silence:

"Why did A---- turn so pale when P---- began to sing: 'Knowst thou
the land?'"

"How could you have seen? For my part, I can never notice whether a
person turns pale or blushes."

"Yes, you, because you can't see at a distance, but I can. He turned
as white as a sheet when she sang: 'There would I fain live!'"

"I saw nothing."


Wednesday, November 17th, 1875.

Many things have changed since Monday. I don't wish to die, no
matter where and no matter how, and I have since been ashamed of