to be anything for me but slaving? Was I never to have any enjoyment
of life, like other people? I felt a need of pleasure, I didn't care
how or what. I was always in a fever; everything was exaggerated to
me. What was going to be my future?--I kept asking myself. Was it
only to be hard work, miserably paid, till I died? And I should die
at last without having known what it was to enjoy my life. When I
was allowed to go out--it was very seldom--I walked aimlessly
about the streets, watching all the girls I passed, and fancying
they all looked so happy, all enjoying their life so. I was growing
thin and pale. I coughed, and began to think I was consumptive. A
little more of it and I believe I should have become so really.

"It came to an end, suddenly and unexpectedly. All three, mother and
daughters, had been worrying me through a whole morning, and at last
one of them called me a downright fool, and said I wasn't worth the
bread I ate. I turned on them. I can't remember a word I said, but
speak I did, and in a way that astonished them; they shrank back
from me, looking pale and frightened. I felt in that moment that I
was a thousand times their superior; I believe I told them so. Then
I rushed up to my room, packed my box, and went out into the street.

"I had just turned a corner, when some one came up to me, and it was
Mr. Bolter. He had followed me from the house. He laughed, said I
had done quite right, and asked me if I had any money. I shook my
head. He walked on by me, and talked. The end was, that he found me
rooms, and provided for me.

"I had not the least affection for him, but he had pleasant,
gentlemanly ways, and it scarcely even occurred to me to refuse his
offers. I was reckless; what happened to me mattered little, as long