I believe many a harassed _Hausfrau_ would give much to be able to make some such speech when these young men appear, and surely the young men themselves would be grateful; but simplicity is apparently quite beyond people's strength. It is, of all the virtues, the one I prize the most; it is undoubtedly the most lovable of any, and unspeakably precious for its power of removing those mountains that confine our lives and prevent our seeing the sky. Certain it is that until we have it, the simple spirit of the little child, we shall in no wise discover our kingdom of heaven. These were my reflections, and many others besides, as I sat weary at the window that cold spring night, long after the lieutenant who had occasioned them was slumbering peacefully on the other side of the house. Thoughts of the next day, and enforced bed, and the bowls of gruel to be disposed of if the servants were to believe in my illness, made my head ache. Eating gruel _pour la galerie_ is a pitiable state to be reduced to--surely no lower depths of humiliation are conceivable. And then, just as I was drearily remembering how little I loved gruel, there was a sudden sound of wheels rolling swiftly round the corner of the house, a great rattling and trampling in the still night over the stones, and tearing open the window and leaning out, there, sitting in a station fly, and apparelled to my glad vision in celestial light, I beheld the Man of Wrath, come home unexpectedly to save me. "Oh, dear Man of Wrath," I cried, hanging out into the moonlight with outstretched arms, "how much nicer thou art than lieutenants! I never missed thee more--I never longed for thee more--I never loved thee more --come up here quickly that I may kiss thee!--" October 1st.--Last night after dinner, when we were in the library, I said, "Now listen to me, Man of Wrath." "Well?" he inquired, looking up at me from the depths of his chair as I stood before him. "Do you know that as a prophet you are a failure? Five months ago to-day you sat among the wallflowers and scoffed at the idea of my being able to enjoy myself alone a whole summer through. Is the summer over?" "It is," he assented, as he heard the rain beating against the windows. "And have I invited any one here?" "No, but there were all those officers." "They have nothing whatever to do with it." "They helped you through one fortnight." "They didn't. It was a fortnight of horror." "Well. Go on." "You said I would be punished by being dull. Have I been dull?" "My dear, as though if you had been you would ever confess it." "That's true. But as a matter of fact let me tell you that I never spent a happier summer." He merely looked at me out of the corners of his eyes. "If I remember rightly," he said, after a pause, "your chief reason for wishing to be solitary was that your soul might have time to grow. May I ask if it did?" "Not a bit."