Then came the engagement and her sister’s marriage. Her heart bled at that terrible act of treason and her feelings hardened. She hated everything, she was against the whole world: against the mother who instigated the match, against the other sisters, who had also favored it, against the brothers who did not oppose it. Only an old nurse woman who had always stood by her and was her staff of support, exceptionally escaped her hatred remaining a sort of solitary ray of affection. But the house was filled with memories of the beloved sister. The pieces of furniture were mute but eloquent witnesses of her former happy love state. They should not be profaned by the presence of the unfaithful, changed sister! She hated the children, wishing they were dead and at the same time she was afraid she might hurt them. Two souls struggled in her breast: one a criminal, the other ethical. The sight of the children was repulsive to her. They bore the traits of the sister and of the man who had stolen her away. Her whole possessions consisted now of her memory and the household goods, the old rooms furnished the necessary real background for her phantasies. “Memory is the only paradise from which we cannot be driven out,” said _Jean Paul_. Her residence became to her a temple of memory, a sanctuary where every piece of furniture recalled the past happiness in which she still projected herself. For her days passed in dreaming and weaving of fancies. She idled away sweet hours and days continually dreaming only of her sister. Criminal fancies of poisoning all the others finally led her, by way of punishment, to fear poisoning. She quit eating anything at the table, as she formerly did. She suspected poison in every food. She began to vomit after her meals. She kept away from everybody except one woman friend who stuck to her faithfully and who shared her revulsion of feeling against the sister. She lived continually in fear she might kill her mother because the imperative (kill her!) kept cropping up all the time. She avoided men. All attempts to interest her in some man eventually to get her married off proved fruitless.... The home was her temple which must not be soiled. All her devotion and her affection were centered daily on that spot. The case approaches closely the realm of psychosis. After a course of psychoanalysis lasting about one half year she improved a great deal. She was able to tolerate her sister’s visits, was free of the obsessive thought of killing her mother, was again able to eat any food and her “nervous” vomiting ceased altogether. A very favorable offer of marriage she rejected. She still avoided men as resolutely as ever. We turn to the next case.