man。　This　is　not　the　worst　of　it。　Last　year；　he　refused　to　marry
  a　young　couple；　both　belonging　to　our　congregation。　This　was　very
  unlike　his　usual　kind　self。　Helena　and　I　asked　him　for　his
  reasons。　They　were　reasons　that　did　not　take　long　to　give。　The
  young　gentleman's　father　was　a　rich　man。　He　had　forbidden　his　son
  to　marry　a　sweet　girlbecause　she　had　no　fortune。
  I　have　no　fortune。　And　Philip's　father　is　a　rich　man。
  The　best　thing　I　can　do　is　to　wipe　my　pen；　and　shut　up　my
  Journal；　and　go　home　by　the　next　train。
  。　。　。　。　。　。　。
  I　have　a　great　mind　to　burn　my　Journal。　It　tells　me　that　I　had
  better　not　think　of　Philip　any　more。
  On　second　thoughts；　I　won't　destroy　my　Journal；　I　will　only　put
  it　away。　If　I　live　to　be　an　old　woman；　it　may　amuse　me　to　open　my
  book　again；　and　see　how　foolish　the　poor　wretch　was　when　she　was
  young。
  What　is　this　aching　pain　in　my　heart？
  I　don't　remember　it　at　any　other　time　in　my　life。　Is　it　trouble？
  How　can　I　tell？I　have　had　so　little　trouble。　It　must　be　many
  years　since　I　was　wretched　enough　to　cry。　I　don't　even　understand
  why　I　am　crying　now。　My　last　sorrow；　so　far　as　I　can　remember；
  was　the　toothache。　Other　girls'　mothers　comfort　them　when　they
  are　wretched。　If　my　mother　had　livedit's　useless　to　think　about
  that。　We　lost　her；　while　I　and　my　sister　were　too　young　to
  understand　our　misfortune。
  I　wish　I　had　never　seen　Philip。
  This　seems　an　ungrateful　wish。　Seeing　him　at　the　picture…show　was
  a　new　enjoyment。　Sitting　next　to　him　at　dinner　was　a　happiness
  that　I　don't　recollect　feeling；　even　when　Papa　has　been　most
  sweet　and　kind　to　me。　I　ought　to　be　ashamed　of　myself　to　confess
  this。　Shall　I　write　to　my　sister？　But　how　should　she　know　what　is
  the　matter　with　me；　when　I　don't　know　it　myself？　Besides；　Helena
  is　angry；　she　wrote　unkindly　to　me　when　she　answered　my　last
  letter。
  There　is　a　dreadful　loneliness　in　this　great　house　at　night。　I
  had　better　say　my　prayers；　and　try　to　sleep。　If　it　doesn't　make
  me　feel　happier；　it　will　prevent　me　spoiling　my　Journal　by
  dropping　tears　on　it。
  。　。　。　。　。　。　。
  What　an　evening　of　evenings　this　has　been！　Last　night　it　was
  crying　that　kept　me　awake。　To…night　I　can't　sleep　for　joy。
  Philip　called　on　us　again　to…day。　He　brought　with　him　tickets　for
  the　performance　of　an　Oratorio。　Sacred　music　is　not　forbidden
  music　among　our　people。　Mrs。　Staveley　and　Miss　Staveley　went　to
  the　concert　with　us。　Philip　and　I　sat　next　to　each　other。
  My　sister　is　a　musicianI　am　nothing。　That　sounds　bitter；　but　I
  don't　mean　it　so。　All　I　mean　is；　that　I　like　simple　little　songs；
  which　I　can　sing　to　myself　by　remembering　the　tune。　There；　my
  musical　enjoyment　ends。　When　voices　and　instruments　burst　out
  together　by　hundreds；　I　feel　bewildered。　I　also　get　attacked　by
  fidgets。　This　last　misfortune　is　sure　to　overtake　me　when
  choruses　are　being　performed。　The　unfortunate　people　employed　are
  made　to　keep　singing　the　same　words；　over　and　over　and　over
  again；　till　I　find　it　a　perfect　misery　to　listen　to　them。　The
  choruses　were　unendurable　in　the　performance　to…night。　This　is
  one　of　them：　〃Here　we　are　all　alone　in　the　wildernessalone　in
  the　wildernessin　the　wilderness　alone；　alone；　alonehere　we
  are　in　the　wildernessalone　in　the　wildernessall　all　alone　in
  the　wilderness；〃　and　soon；　till　I　felt　inclined　to　call　for　the
  learned　person　who　writes　Oratorios；　and　beg　him　to　give　the　poor
  music　a　more　generous　allowance　of　words。
  Whenever　I　looked　at　Philip；　I　found　him　looking　at　me。　Perhaps
  he　saw　from　the　first　that　the　music　was　wearying　music　to　my
  ignorant　ears。　With　his　usual　delicacy　he　said　nothing　for　some
  time。　But　when　he　caught　me　yawning　（though　I　did　my　best　to　hide
  it；　for　it　looked　like　being　ungrateful　for　the　tickets）；　then　he
  could　restrain　himself　no　longer。　He　whispered　in　my　ear：
  〃You　are　getting　tired　of　this。　And　so　am　I。〃
  〃I　am　trying　to　like　it；〃　I　whispered　back。
  〃Don't　try；〃　he　answered。　〃Let's　talk。〃
  He　meant；　of　course；　talk　in　whispers。　We　were　a　good　deal
  annoyedespecially　when　the　characters　were　all　alone　in　the
  wildernessby　bursts　of　singing　and　playing　which　interrupted　us
  at　the　most　interesting　moments。　Philip　persevered　with　a　manly
  firmness。　What　could　I　do　but　follow　his　exampleat　a　distance？
  He　said：　〃Is　it　really　true　that　your　visit　to　Mrs。　Staveley　is
  coming　to　an　end？〃
  I　answered：　〃It　comes　to　an　end　the　day　after　to…morrow。〃
  〃Are　you　sorry　to　be　leaving　your　friends　in　London？〃
  What　I　might　have　said　if　he　had　made　that　inquiry　a　day　earlier；
  when　I　was　the　most　miserable　creature　living；　I　would　rather　not
  try　to　guess。　Being　quite　happy　as　things　were；　I　could　honestly
  tell　him　I　was　sorry。
  〃You　can't　possibly　be　as　sorry　as　I　am；　Eunice。　May　I　call　you
  by　your　pretty　name？〃
  〃Yes；　if　you　please。〃
  〃Eunice！〃
  〃Yes。〃
  〃You　will　leave　a　blank　in　my　life　when　you　go　away〃
  There　another　chorus　stopped　him；　just　as　I　was　eager　for　more。
  It　was　such　a　delightfully　new　sensation　to　hear　a　young
  gentleman　telling　me　that　I　had　left　a　blank　in　his　life。　The
  next　change　in　the　Oratorio　brought　up　a　young　lady；　singing
  alone。　Some　people　behind　us　grumbled　at　the　smallness　of　her
  voice。　We　thought　her　voice　perfect。　It　seemed　to　lend　itself　so
  nicely　to　our　whispers。
  He　said：　〃Will　you　help　me　to　think　of　you　while　you　are　away？　I
  want　to　imagine　what　your　life　is　at　home。　Do　you　live　in　a　town
  or　in　the　country？〃
  I　told　him　the　name　of　our　town。　When　we　give　a　person
  information；　I　have　always　heard　that　we　ought　to　make　it
  complete。　So　I　mentioned　our　address　in　the　town。　But　I　was
  troubled　by　a　doubt。　Perhaps　he　preferred　the　country。　Being
  anxious　about　this；　I　said：　〃Would　you　rather　have　heard　that　I
  live　in　the　country？〃
  〃Live　where　you　may；　Eunice；　the　place　will　be　a　favorite　place
  of　mine。　Besides；　your　town　is　famous。　It　has　a　public　attraction
  which　brings　visitors　to　it。〃
  I　made　another　of　those　mistakes　which　no　sensible　girl；　in　my
  position；　would　have　committed。　I　asked　if　he　alluded　to　our　new
  market…place。
  He　set　me　right　in　the　sweetest　manner：　〃I　alluded　　to　a　building
  hundreds　of　years　older　than　your　market…placeyour　beautiful
  cathedral。〃
  Fancy　my　not　having　thought　of　the　cathedral！　This　is　what　comes
  of　being　a　Congregationalist。　If　I　had　belonged　to　the　Church　of
  England；　I　should　have　forgotten　the　market…place；　and　remembered
  the　cathedral。　Not　that　I　want　to　belong　to　the　Church　of
  England。　Papa's　chapel　is　good　enough　for　me。
  The　song　sung　by　the　lady　with　the　small　voice　was　so　pretty　that
  the　audience　encored　it。　Didn't　Philip　and　I　help　them！　With　the
  sweetest　smiles　the　lady　sang　it　all　over　again。　The　people
  behind　us　left　the　concert。
  He　said：　〃Do　you　know；　I　take　the　greatest　interest　in
  cathedrals。　I　propose　to　enjoy　the　privilege　and　pleasure　of
  seeing　_your_　cathedral　early　next　week。〃
  I　had　only　to　look　at　him　to　see　that　I　was　the　cathedral。　It　was
  no　surprise　to　hear　next　that　he　thought　of　〃paying　his　respects
  to　Mr。　Gracedieu。〃　He　begged　me　to　tell　him　what　sort　of
  reception　he　might　hope　to　meet　with　when　he　called　at　our　house。
  I　got　so　excited　in　doing　justice　to　papa　that　I　quite　forgot　to
  whisper　when　the　next　question　came。　Philip　wanted　to　know　if　Mr。
  Gracedieu　disliked　strangers。　When　I　answered；　〃Oh　dear；　no！〃　I
  said　it　out　loud；　so　that　the　people　heard　me。　Cruel；　cruel
  people！　They　all　turned　round　and　stared。　One　hideous　old　woman
  actually　said；　〃Silence！〃　Miss　Staveley　looked　disgusted。　Even
  kind　Mrs。　Staveley　lifted　her　eyebrows　in　astonishment。
  Philip；　dear　Philip；　protected　and　composed　me。
  He　held　my　hand　devotedly　till　the　end　of　the　performance。　When
  he　put　us　into　the　carriage；　I　was　last。　He　whispered　in　my　ear：
  〃Expect　me　next　week。〃　Miss　Staveley　might　be　as　ill…natured　as
  she　pleased；　on　the　way　home。　It　didn't　matter　what　she　said。　The
  Eunice　of　yesterday　might　have　been　mortified　and　offended。　The
  Eunice　of　to…day　was　indifferent　to　the　sharpest　things　that
  could　be　said　to　her。
  。　。　。　。　。　。　。
  All　through　yesterday's　delightful　evening；　I　never　once　thought
  of　Philip's　father。　When　I　woke　this　morning；　I　remembered　that
  old　Mr。　Dunboyne　was　a　rich　man。　I　could　eat　no　breakfast　for
  thinking　of　the　poor　girl　who　was　not　allowed　to　marry　her　young
  gentleman；　because　she　had　no　money。
  Mrs。　Staveley　waited　to　speak　to　me　till　the　rest　of　them　had
  left　us　together。　I　had　expected　her　to　notice　that　I　looked　dull
  and　dismal。　No！　her　cleverness　got　at　my　secret　in　quite　another
  way。
  She　said：　〃How　do　you　feel　after　the　concert？　You　must　be　hard　to
  please　indeed　if　you　were　not　satisfied　with　the　accompaniments
  last　night。〃
  〃The　accompaniments　of　the　Oratorio？〃
  〃No；　my　dear。　The　accompaniments　of　Philip。〃
  I　suppose　I　ought　to　have　laughed。　In　my　miserable　state　of　mind；
  it　was　not　to　be　done。　I　said：　〃I　hope　Mr。　Dunboyne's　father　will
  not　hear　how　kind　he　was　to　me。〃
  Mrs。　Staveley　asked　why。
  My　bitterness　overflowed　at　my　tongue。　I　said：　〃Because　papa　is　a
  poor　man。〃
  〃And　Philip's　papa　is　a　rich　man；〃　says　Mrs。　Staveley；　putting　my
  own　thought　into　words　for　me。　〃Where　do　y