That quite won me, Mina, for it was brave and sweet
of him, and noble too, to a rival, wasn’t it?
And he so sad, so I leant over and kissed him.
He stood up with my two hands in his, and as he looked
down into my face, I am afraid I was blushing very
much, he said, “Little girl, I hold your hand,
and you’ve kissed me, and if these things don’t
make us friends nothing ever will. Thank you
for your sweet honesty to me, and goodbye.”
He wrung my hand, and taking up his hat, went straight
out of the room without looking back, without a tear
or a quiver or a pause, and I am crying like a baby.
Oh, why must a man like that be made unhappy when
there are lots of girls about who would worship the
very ground he trod on? I know I would if I
were free, only I don’t want to be free.
My dear, this quite upset me, and I feel I cannot
write of happiness just at once, after telling you
of it, and I don’t wish to tell of the number
Three until it can be all happy. Ever your loving
. . .
P.S.—Oh, about number Three, I needn’t
tell you of number Three, need I? Besides, it
was all so confused. It seemed only a moment
from his coming into the room till both his arms were
round me, and he was kissing me. I am very, very
happy, and I don’t know what I have done to deserve
it. I must only try in the future to show that
I am not ungrateful to God for all His goodness to
me in sending to me such a lover, such a husband,
and such a friend.
25 May.—Ebb tide in appetite today.
Cannot eat, cannot rest, so diary instead.
Since my rebuff of yesterday I have a sort of empty
feeling. Nothing in the world seems of sufficient
importance to be worth the doing. As I knew
that the only cure for this sort of thing was work,
I went amongst the patients. I picked out one
who has afforded me a study of much interest.
He is so quaint that I am determined to understand
him as well as I can. Today I seemed to get
nearer than ever before to the heart of his mystery.
I questioned him more fully than I had ever done,
with a view to making myself master of the facts of
his hallucination. In my manner of doing it
there was, I now see, something of cruelty. I
seemed to wish to keep him to the point of his madness,
a thing which I avoid with the patients as I would
the mouth of hell.
(Mem., Under what circumstances would I not avoid
the pit of hell?) Omnia Romae venalia sunt.
Hell has its price! If there be anything behind
this instinct it will be valuable to trace it afterwards
accurately, so I had better commence to do so, therefore
. . .
