During this my third half-year I had been steadily working in academy,
and every night when in bed, and when the room was quiet and dark, I
used to think over and try to work out various problems that I had done
daring the day. I found that by concentrating my thoughts on these
subjects I impressed them on my mind, and on the following morning could
work them out very easily on paper. I found that by this means I could
do many problems that had formerly seemed so complicated, that I had
failed over and over again, and I hoped that I should find the benefit
of this process by-and-by.
Woodville more than once had told me that I ought to work hard, as this
was my last chance for my probationary; but he was not aware that when
he was asleep I was training my brain _to think_, which, after all, is
the great object of all learning or teaching.
In our public schools and colleges we give too much attention to what is
called "learning" different subjects, this "learning" being, in the
majority of cases, merely cramming our minds with the facts discovered
and the conclusions arrived at by those who have preceded us, and who
have written what they knew. We rarely endeavour even to so cultivate
the mind as to make it competent to judge of the merits of a novelty,
for this calls for a mental exertion that few persons ever attempt. It
is far easier to accept what is submitted to us without question than it
is to investigate and think out a case which no one has previously
thought out, and on which consequently we have no guide which we can
follow.
The system of cramming for examinations which was prevalent in former
times, and has become even more common in the present day, is, we
believe, far more detrimental to the mind than it is beneficial. Also
we believe that calm reasoning is not certain to be brought out by such
examinations as are usually given to students, so that, after all, the
power of intellect is, we believe, not likely to be accurately tested by
a mere examination.
I stood last but one in my batch--a fact due to my having done so very
badly in mathematics and geometry at the last two examinations. In
drawing I was very good, but this subject counted very little compared
to the two in which I was very bad, so that what I needed was more
knowledge of mathematics.
Time passed on very rapidly and very pleasantly. Now that Snipson had
left the Academy I had no one ever to fag for or to fear; and it seemed
that his departure had been the signal for the commencement of a better
tone among the cadets. There was, I heard from the last-joined, less
bullying than there had been whilst Snipson was present, and altogether
his departure was hailed with pleasure. The examinations commenced, and
I screwed myself up to the mark to see whether I was to pass my
probationary and remain at the Academy, or be sent away to seek some
other career in life.
We had three days for our examination in mathematics and geometry, and I
was most careful over my work, reading over my questions deliberately
and slowly, and thinking them out before putting pen to paper. As I sat
for some time with my eyes shut, trying to recall a somewhat lengthy
formula in trigonometry, the examiner saw me, and, supposing I was
asleep, called out, "Mr Shepard, you had better wake up and attend to
your paper; you cannot afford to sleep!"
I was not much pleased at this remark, for there is always in the mind
of all those who are examined an impression that examiners may be
prejudiced, and may not allot marks fairly. Such an idea is a very
pleasant one to those who fail at an examination, and who thus satisfy
their vanity by trying to believe that they deserved well, but were
marked badly because the examiner was unfair. I fancied that, because I
was supposed to be asleep, especial sharpness would be used in marking
me--an idea I have since had reason to know was utterly erroneous, for
the Academy was, of all places, the most rigid as regards the fairness
with which marks were allotted, and the greatest impartiality was shown
by those in whose hands the marking was left.
After each examination-attendance, I looked over the paper out of
academy, and compared my answers and working with the book, and I came
to the conclusion that I had done remarkably well, and therefore hoped I
should be safe to get a satisfactory return for my probationary.
I waited with the greatest anxiety for the result of the examination to
be made known, and could scarcely sleep at night for thinking what I
should say at home in case I were span. It would, I knew, annoy my
father very much, and I should be considered very stupid by probably far
more stupid people than I was.
At length the morning came when the result of our mathematical
examination was to be made known, and I went into academy with a feeling
of dogged determination not to show any sign, no matter what the result
might be. I fancied that the result would be satisfactory, as far as I
was concerned, because, had it been unfavourable, I should have been
sent for to the Inspector's office, and told to pack up and be off.
We all took our seats and were ready with pencil and paper to copy off
the marks as they were read out. The names of the cadets were read out
in the order in which they had passed, so that as each name came the
excitement as to who would be the next was very great. I was
thirty-eighth in the class, out of thirty-nine, but I hoped I should
take some places and probably reach to about twenty-fifth of the class,
and next half (if I remained at the Academy) I hoped to get on better.
As the examiner read out the first name there was no surprise; the cadet
who was first was a very good mathematician, who at sixteen had joined
the Academy, knowing trigonometry, mechanics, projectiles, and the
calculus; he had been pushed on in consequence of his knowledge, and we
knew he was almost certain to be first. The second, third, fourth, and
fifth cadets were also very good mathematicians, and were known to be
tolerably certain of standing high. When the examiner said "Sixth," he
waited for some seconds, whilst we listened attentively, and he then
repeated "Sixth, Mr Shepard--235 marks, decimal 87."
At this announcement all the cadets looked round at me with surprise; it
was almost assumed that, judging from my former examinations, I should
have great difficulty in passing at all, that is in getting half-marks;
when, then, I suddenly shot out from last but one to sixth, and gained
so high a decimal as 87, it was like an outsider almost winning the
Derby.
There were one or two surprises and several disappointments as the
result of the examination was read out, and some cadets did not hesitate
to proclaim that it was "a chowse."
I was quite satisfied, and was glad to find that I had not overrated
what I had done at the examination. I little suspected then that my
success was likely to place me in a very unpleasant position, which was,
perhaps, due in a measure to another cause which I must here relate.
It happened that, during the half-year, I was one morning in study when
a cadet in the first row, who used to be generally up to some trick,
called my name during the time the corporal on duty was absent. I
looked up from my drawing and immediately a ball of bread, made out of
the crumb of a roll, was thrown at me. I caught the ball and instantly
threw it back, but just as the ball was leaving my hand the door opened
and the Inspector appeared. The cadet at whom I had thrown the ball
failed to catch it, and the ball struck the door within a foot of the
Inspector's head.
I was immediately placed in arrest, and the next day was taken before
the Governor charged with throwing a ball at the Inspector. Luckily the
cadet who had thrown the ball to me was available as evidence, and our
defence was that we had used the bread to clean our drawings, and had
thrown it to one another instead of carrying it from one part of the
class-room to another. This defence cleared me in the Governor's mind
from the charge of throwing at the Inspector, but I got seven days'
arrest for creating a disturbance in academy.
The fact of my having suddenly come out as a good mathematician, when
hitherto I had shown only as a muff, was a surprise to every one, even
to the master himself; but I was completely taken aback when I was sent
for to the Inspector's office, and told that there was a strong
suspicion against me of having fudged at my examination.
I indignantly denied the charge, and said that in consequence of its
being my probationary examination I had worked very hard to pass, and
had quite expected to get a good decimal.
"We have already ascertained," said the Inspector, "that you have not
worked in your room, you rarely studied out of academy, and the examiner
found you asleep during examination, so that it seems impossible you
could by fair means obtain .8, which you have done."
"It is very hard on me," I replied, "to be accused of fudging, when I
give you my word of honour I have not fudged, merely because I have done
well."
"We will give you the benefit of the doubt, Mr Shepard," said the
Inspector, with anything but a pleasant manner, and I left his office
feeling that in his own mind he was confirmed I had fudged--the how or
the means by which I had done so alone preventing him from proceeding
with his charge.
Among the cadets of my class I was considered a martyr, for they
accounted for my success by attributing it to "luck in the questions."
To me, however, the result was most important. First, it rendered my
position at the Academy secure; and, secondly, it showed me that the
system I had adopted for gaining a knowledge of mathematics and geometry
was a sound one, and that I had a sort of key for the cultivation of the
intellect. I now looked forward to my Academy career with hope and
pleasure, and a feeling of ambition came upon me which is, perhaps, one
of the greatest incentives to work that can be given to a young man.
When I joined the Academy I was a boy and felt like a boy, but the rough
handling that I had gone through, and the experience I had gained during
the eighteen months I had been at the Academy, had aged me beyond my
years. I had also grown considerably, and looked older than I was,
several persons putting me down as eighteen or nineteen years old,
whereas I was not much past seventeen.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I returned home from the Academy for my vacation with much pleasure. I
looked forward to the quiet rambles in the forest, the collecting
specimens of natural history, and the general peaceful nature of the
life there, as a pleasant change after Woolwich. I also felt some pride
in going home after so successful an examination, for it was successful
even for the Academy. I thought of the satisfaction I should have in
meeting Howard and in telling him of the past half-year's events. I
plotted many amusements for the vacation, but determined to devote a
certain amount of time to mathematics and gaining some knowledge of the
subjects I should have to study next half.
I was beginning conic sections in the third half-year, and this subject
I found was one that I could manage very well by thinking quietly over.
I could, in imagination, make my section of the cone and get my
co-ordinates very easily without pencil or paper; and more than once I
hit off laws that I imagined at first were real discoveries, but I soon
found out other men had long since discovered them. This fact, however,
showed me that I was on the right road, and that the training of my mind
must be going on satisfactorily.
Of all the schemes that I had proposed to carry out during the half-year
not one had led in the least to prepare me for an event which for a
considerable time produced much effect upon me.
I was much given to long rambles in the forest, and would often take a
seat in some retired glen and dream the idle hours away. As I was
sitting thus one day I heard some voices near me--one that of a female.
I jumped up, surprised at so unusual a sound, for I was out of the
regular beat of picnics, and then heard an altercation going on,
evidently between a female and an unruly boy. Moving through the furze
outside the glade I came suddenly on a young lady, who was trying to
pull back a boy of about ten years old. The young lady was fair, and of
middle height, and to me seemed quite lovely. She was dressed in a
light summer dress, a straw hat, with a wreath of natural ivy round it,
and a light-blue scarf. As I came near she said, "Walter, you stupid
boy, I know it's a viper, and it will sting you to death!"
"You donkey!" replied the youth, as he struggled to get free, "it's only
a common snake, and I want it to take to school next half."
These remarks fully explained to me the cause of the dispute between the
youth and the lady; and as the question was one of importance I at once
jumped forward, and there saw a full-grown vicious-looking viper on the
ground close to the boy. In an instant I struck it with my stick, and
broke its back, and said, "I tell you what, youngster, before you call
people donkeys you ought to know something about what you are talking
of. That thing is a viper, and if you had touched it you would have
been poisoned by its bite, and probably would have died."
"Oh, but I thought it was only a snake!" said the youth, with that air
of unmistakable self-satisfaction which at once indicates the unlicked
cub.
"I told you it was a viper, Walter," said the young lady in a
conciliatory tone.
"Oh, but you know nothing about it," replied the youth.
"The young lady knew better than you," I said, "and you ought to be much
obliged to her for having probably saved your life, instead of being as
cheeky as you are. If you were my young brother, I'd soon teach you
manners!"
The boy looked at me with an air of surprise, but seemed indisposed to
make any reply, whilst the young lady thanked me for having killed the
viper.
"You don't remember me, Mr Shepard?" she then said; "I was quite a
little girl when we last met, about five years ago, and I have only just
returned from Brussels, where I was at school. I was staying with my
uncle, General Holloway, near Ringwood, when you came over to fish."
I then remembered that, during a short visit to General Holloway's,
there was a pretty little girl staying at the house, who used to play
and sing very well. I was very bashful at the time, and for the first
day or two did not get on with her; but after that we became great
friends.
"Surely you are not Helen Stanley," I said, "who used to sing to me at
General Holloway's?"
"Yes, I am," she replied, "but I have grown very much since then, and so
have you. I've heard so much of you, and of your success at Woolwich.
What a splendid thing it must be to pass examinations, and to be a
soldier too!"
"Rather hard work, though," I replied. "No one knows till they have
tried it what there is to go through."
"Oh, but see how much it does for a young man! Why, see the young men
about here how awkward they are, how clumsily they walk and stand; they
are quite different from a soldier. I'm so glad to have met you; and
it's lucky for Walter's sake I did so, or the viper would have stung
him."
Helen Stanley was at this time about eighteen; but she was older in
manner and style than she was in years. It is useless to attempt to
describe to the reader a person who attracts us, or who wields an
influence over us--the mere detail description of complexion, colour of
hair, and of eyes, shape of mouth and nose, giving to a third person no
more idea of the individual than if we said nothing. I can only speak,
then, of Miss Stanley as a young lady who to me seemed very pretty--
whose hand it was a pleasure to touch on meeting--whose society was a
pleasure, and who seemed to call up in me all the better parts of my
nature. I had not been five minutes talking to her before I knew that
she was one who would produce an influence on me in the future.
"How does it happen that you are here?" I inquired.
"Our carriage is in the road beyond, and aunt is there. I got out to
walk with Walter, and to try and get some fern-roots. Come and see
aunt; she wants to see you, and you have never come over to call."
I strolled on with Miss Stanley and her young brother, whom I now saw
looking at me with staring eyes and evident admiration. A gentleman
cadet was in his eyes "somebody," and he already seemed to regret his
rudeness at our first meeting. A forest path led us out into the road,
and we soon reached the carriage in which Mrs Holloway, or, as the
country people styled her, "Mrs General Holloway," was reclining,
enjoying the view before her.
"Aunt," said Miss Stanley, "whom do you think I've found in the forest?"
Mrs Holloway looked with an air of surprise, and I fancied of
displeasure, at seeing me walking with her niece.
"I cannot imagine," she replied. "Perhaps you had better introduce this
gentleman to me."
"Oh! aunt, can't you guess? I thought you would know him at once! I
did."
Mrs Holloway looked at me for a few seconds, and shook her head,
indicating her want of recognition.
"Why, don't you remember Mr Shepard?" said Miss Stanley.
Mrs Holloway looked at me with a surprised air, then, holding out her
hand, said, "What! is it possible that little Bob Shepard has in two
years grown up to be you? What a splendid thing drill and going out in
the world is for a boy! I should not have known you, Bob, or Mr
Shepard--I ought to say Gentleman Cadet Shepard, perhaps. I've heard
all about you, though--how you passed examinations that every one said
you couldn't pass, and how you have just succeeded at your last
examination. Your friends must be very proud of you. But why have you
not been over to see us?"
"I have only been home a few days," I replied, "and have not been
anywhere yet."
"You must come over and stay with us a few days," said Mrs Holloway.
"Helen has no one to accompany her in her rides besides the groom, and
she will be glad, I know, of your society; so we will let you know when
to come. Can we drive you anywhere?"
"No, thank you," I replied. "I am going home through the forest."
"Good-bye, then, and don't forget we shall expect you soon."
"Good-bye!"
The carriage drove off. I waved my hand, and then stood looking after
the carriage--a new sphere in my life being thus opened to me.
I walked on through winding paths that led towards my home, thinking of
the curious meeting with Miss Stanley, and of how charming she looked,
and how pleasing her manner was. I had never before been much in young
ladies' society, for previous to my going to Hostler's school I avoided
girls, as I considered them a nuisance, and they made a practice of
laughing at me because I was shy and very small. Three years, however,
make a great difference in one's views, especially when those three
years come when we are fifteen years of age. At eighteen I was not the
same person I was at fifteen. And now, as I walked home, I speculated
on how long it would be before I was asked to the General's, and should
have an opportunity of again seeing Helen Stanley.
On my arrival home I was surprised to find that my aunt and sisters did
not seem to appreciate Miss Stanley. She was "stuck up," they said, and
gave herself airs, because she had been to school abroad; but it was
generally agreed that I should accept the invitation, as the General was
a man of considerable influence.
"You must mind you don't fall in love with Helen!" said one of my
sisters. "She is an awful flirt."
"That's not likely," I replied, with an assurance that I by no means
felt, for I found my mind running on little else than the remarks made
by Miss Stanley, and her image seemed always before me as I saw her when
she reminded me of our former meeting.
Each day I now looked anxiously for a letter from the Heronry, as
General Holloway's house was called, and on the third after my interview
with Miss Stanley a formal invitation came, asking me to stay a week at
the Heronry, and asking if I could come on the following afternoon. The
invitation was, of course, accepted, and on the following afternoon I
arrived at the General's, where I was received very kindly by my host
and hostess, and by the fair Helen.
There are few things more flattering to a youth at the doubtful age at
which I was, than to be treated as a man by a handsome girl. Helen
Stanley never once in any way indicated that she thought me "young," or
anything but a man. I was "Mr Shepard" to her, and whether she meant
to flatter me, or whether it was merely the natural agreeableness of her
manner, I cannot say, but she had the knack of causing me to think
better of myself than I had formerly done. She reminded me how quickly
and successfully I had prepared for the Academy, and she compared my
success with the failures of some other candidates for Woolwich whom she
had known. More than once she had said how she envied me for being a
man with such a splendid career before me in the army, either in the
Artillery or Engineers, and that she was certain I should distinguish
myself in the future.
It is not in the nature of man, especially of a very young one, or of
woman either, to reason or criticise very closely the truth or
foundation of flattery. We stretch many points to make us ready to
believe there are grounds for what is said. I had been so unjustly
abused by Snipson when his neux, that the conceit had been too much
taken out of me, and I had lost too much of that self-possession which
we all ought to possess in order to make way in the world. The flattery
of Miss Stanley, therefore, came on me with all the charm of novelty,
and as I thought over what she had said, I felt bound to acknowledge
that praise was due to me for the manner in which I had passed through
my hard trials at Hostler's, had succeeded at my examinations, and stood
the bullying of my first half-year at the Academy. Any way, it was most
agreeable to be in the society of a young lady who seemed to think I
deserved to be praised and commended for what I had done.
The first few days of my visit at the Heronry passed like a dream. I
was as happy as a bird, but was fast drifting into love with Helen.
She, however, seemed a very wise young lady, who could talk with me,
sing with me, flirt with me, but apparently not be in love with me. I
had myself made all sorts of desperate resolves. I should get my
commission, distinguish myself in some way, and then propose for Helen.
The details of our future life I had not worked out, nor did I consider
that I had not calculated the future beyond the period at which I should
be twenty-one. Although the time passed rapidly and agreeably, yet I
knew I had learnt much in the first three days I was at the Heronry. I
had begun a new study, etc, the investigation of the peculiarities and
inconsistencies of the feminine mind.
At breakfast, on the fourth morning of my visit, Helen Stanley announced
to the General that Charles would arrive that afternoon. I looked up
surprised at this remark, for I had never heard of a "Charles," and did
not know whom he was. Seeing my look of curiosity, Miss Stanley said,
"Charles is my cousin. He is at Oxford, and is coming here for a few
days. He is very clever, I hear; so you two will get on well together,
I hope."
I instantly felt certain that cousin Charles and I should not get on
well together, and I was most anxious to discover, if possible, whether
there was any other relationship between Helen and cousin Charles
besides that of cousinship. Miss Stanley, however, gave me no clue, and
seemed to avoid being alone with me during the morning, so that I had no
opportunity of learning anything except that cousin Charles was at
Oxford and very clever.
At the expected time cousin Charles, whose surname I ascertained was
also Stanley, arrived at the Heronry. I saw him get out of the vehicle
he had driven in, and approach the house. From the experience I had
gained of men during the past two years I could judge tolerably well of
what a young man was by his appearance, and the instant I saw Charles
Stanley I concluded that he was "a conceited prig." I entered the
drawing-room soon after his arrival, and was introduced to him as
Gentleman Cadet Shepard. Stanley nearly closed his eyes as he looked at
me for half a minute, and then held out two fingers to me to shake. I
just touched his hand and then turned towards the window and looked out
on the view, whilst I was estimating in my own mind the value and
worthlessness of Mr Charles Stanley.
It was soon evident to me that Stanley was on very intimate terms with
his cousin Helen, also that he admired her very much. I also became
conscious that he was not favourably impressed with me, and I made up my
mind that we should certainly not get on well during our visit.
At dinner that evening Stanley fired his first shot at me, and it
certainly hit its mark, for I was made to look very small whilst he
aired his knowledge before Helen Stanley.
I happened to mention that I had seen a hawk hovering over the
poultry-yard in the afternoon, and I thought it possible that some young
chicken might be carried off.
"By hawk," said Stanley, "do you mean the `Tinnunculus alaudarius' or
the `Accipiter Nisus'?"
"I mean what we call here the kestrel," I replied.
Stanley put his glass in his eye and looked at me, and said, "Dear me!
I was told you were a very clever naturalist."
"I don't think natural history consists in giving long names to
animals," I said, "but in knowing their habits."
"Indeed?" said Stanley. "But I am afraid you don't learn much classics
at Woolwich."
"None after we enter," I replied. "We then learn only useful things,
and don't cram our heads with pedantic knowledge."
"I'm very sorry to see the youngsters of the present day so radical in
their ideas," said Stanley, addressing the General. "There is no
training for a gentleman equal to a thorough classical education."
"I don't agree with you," said the General. "Of course you Oxford men
think there's nothing like leather, but I would sooner have my son know
French and German well, than Greek and Latin, and the latter would be
more practically useful to him than the former; and as to a mathematical
education, it is essential in the present day. I fancy that your great
classics are usually men who live more in the past than for the present
or future, and that won't do now."
"A man who is not a good classic is always making himself ridiculous
because he is sure to make a false quantity, and his ignorance is seen
by others."
"Ah, that's a sort of pedantry," replied the General, "which is what I
set my face against. Your classic belongs to a large school, and prides
himself immensely on his knowledge. He only values men according to
what he finds they know of classics. Now, this is a mistake. You will
find that horse-jockeys and stablemen do the same. If you make a remark
to a horsey man, showing you are not up in horse slang, he at once sets
you down as a muff, for he has only one standard of excellence, viz,
knowledge of horses, just as you have of classics. Just now you took it
out of Shepard there about the Latin names of hawks, and then you seemed
to think that knowing these names made a naturalist. This I don't agree
to. Now, I'd back Shepard to tell quicker than you a summer from a
winter cage when he saw one."
"I think I could tell that," replied Stanley.
"How?" inquired the General.
"Well, the winter cage ought to be warmer and hung on the sunny side of
the house, and perhaps covered with something to keep the cold wind
out."
A shout of laughter from the General, in which both I and Miss Stanley
joined, interrupted Stanley in his remarks. He looked annoyed and
surprised, and seemed waiting for an explanation.
"There!" said the General, "you have done worse than make a false
quantity; you have shown you know nothing of what I meant. You must
know that `a cage' means in the forest a squirrel's nest, and that the
squirrel makes a summer and a winter cage--one of sticks, the other of
moss."
We had several other little "passages of arms" during dinner, much, I
fancied, to the amusement of Helen Stanley, who seemed to enjoy seeing
her cousin taken down a little.
On the following morning a ride was proposed to see one of the largest
beech-trees in the forest, which was in Eyeworth Wood. The party
consisted of my youngest sister, Miss Stanley, Stanley, and myself. We
had scarcely mounted our horses before I saw that Stanley was a very
indifferent rider. He tried his best to conceal the fact, but it was of
no use. The pony he was riding was a well-bred forest pony, strong, and
high spirited. The animal seemed (as horses soon do) to have discovered
that his rider was an indifferent horseman, and began to play various
tricks, much to the discomfiture of Stanley, who kept his seat with
difficulty. I could see that Stanley was fast losing his temper, and
when his cousin told him to keep his hands lower, and not to jerk the
pony's mouth, he seemed to be ready to quarrel with any one.
"I see what you mean," Stanley replied, looking at me. "These forest
brutes require riding more in the butcher-boy style."
"Yes," I said, "that's the way--more like a butcher-boy and less like a
tailor!"
I thought Stanley would have hit me with his whip. He raised it, and
probably would have done so; but his pony, seeing the whip raised,
bounded off, and deposited Stanley on his back on the turf.
We saw he was not hurt, so out attention was turned to catching his
pony, which we soon succeeded in doing, when he mounted again and safely
accomplished the remainder of his ride.
Miss Stanley was nearly the whole time by my side, and I found myself
more and more charmed with her. I was flattered by her manner, and felt
that there would be great satisfaction in gaining her approval in my
future career at Woolwich.
"I shall always look out for your name in the papers," she said, "to see
when you get any prizes. I saw your name in the _Times_ as having
passed when I was at Brussels, and I was so glad."
"I am not likely to get any prizes," I replied, "except my commission;
that will be a good prize."
"Oh, you are certain to get some if you try for them! Why, see how well
you have done already. I am certain if young men had some one to back
them up, and give them encouragement, there would not be so many
failures as there are. I think there is nothing so charming as an
intellectual, clever man!"
I did not know what to reply to this remark, for I was not only very
young but very inexperienced at that time, and was not aware of a fact
which I believe experience has since taught me, viz, that _young_ ladies
usually like a man who is not intellectual, but who can talk any amount
of what is termed nonsense, whilst it is usually middle-aged ladies who
seek after intellect and prefer the society of those who possess it.
A week passed at General Holloway's like a dream, and it came to an end
as suddenly, as the General was taken seriously ill, and we all had to
leave. Before I left I had confessed to Helen Stanley that I was
desperately in love with her, and that I should never be happy without
her; but to my utter discomfiture she informed me that she was engaged
to her cousin, and had been so from a child, though she did not care for
him one bit. I believed fully when I heard this that I should never be
happy again, and that I should wander about one of those "blighted
beings" that one hears and reads of, and occasionally sees, who have
been disappointed in love, and who never recover from it; but I am happy
to say that, though for many days I felt terribly desolate, and seemed
to live without a purpose, yet before I had been a week at the Academy I
had begun to laugh at my own folly in having fallen in love in less than
a week with Miss Helen Stanley.