The silent, dreamy girl carefully observed the lives of her acquaintances, and every time that any of them achieved some success, or suffered some misfortune, she tried to account for this circumstance by one or other of their preceding actions. I am afraid that in her eagerness to prove, even to herself, the justice of her theory, she often deceived herself, and dragged in irrelevant facts. She was sincerely happy at the sight of virtue rewarded, and, though naturally anything but cruel or revengeful, she nevertheless rejoiced triumphantly when wickedness was laid low! It is true that occasionally, under the influence of scientific books, which, as the years passed, held an ever-increasing attraction for Irene, she said to herself that people were wicked owing to the particular construction of their skulls or spinal cords, and were as innocent of their own vice as the tiger is innocent of his carnivorous nature. In the same way, it followed that it was not only natural and easy for good people to be good, but that it would be exceedingly difficult for them to act dishonestly, or in any way contrary to their natures. There was, indeed, according to this theory, no such thing as the eternal struggle between good and evil—there were only on the one side healthy and therefore honest natures, and on the other, morally diseased and, therefore, cruel or vicious ones. But when Irene began to meditate on these ideas, there arose in her poor head such a confused chaos of tangled thoughts, that she hastily banished all scientific propositions, and returned to her old faith, in which everything was clear and simple.