simply never trust the permission you may give me, in the future, to
rest or be satisfied. I shall only hate you, for the pain of some of
your words I shall _never_ forget.

The memory of the first two pages of your letter will always put me
in mortal terror of you. For the rest, I am very grateful, and I
will try to show you how I love your ideal. I can never repay you as
long as I live for letting me come with you. Oh Thyrsis, I am sure
that I will never think or care whether you love me or not, if only
I may go with you and learn how to strive!

I tore up all your love-letters this morning. I kept the last
letter--though I do not think I could bear to read it over. I should
be afraid of again going through with that despair. Oh, I beg for
the time when I shall be obliged to waste none of my minutes--and
when I shall have no opportunity of writing you! What _time_ I have
spent over your letters and mine!

XII

Dear Thyrsis:

I am restlessly waiting for the supper-bell to ring, and my head is
aching intensely, and I am generally topsy-turvy. Alas! alas! the
distance that separates us and our understanding!

I received a letter to-day while I was studying--but said I would
not open it for a week, that I wanted strength to study. Well, I
studied all the afternoon and found it none too easy. When I came
home, I thought perhaps it was better to read your letter, which I