Misanthropy, May I Call It So

I retrieved one day what I had been given, and I thought I had managed to fulfil my engagement; I thought I should have remained unconcerned, and carry on with my peace and quiet, that particular peace and quiet that had made me cry for myself. With every word, I get away from my subject, this parasite that needs to be explained and done justice.

I am not lonely, nor alone; I get lonely sometimes, but only because of my traps and impediments. I just wish I would be spared a few years of my life, growing mature and... well, reaching the final state.

But still, I only do that because I am going through a mild, numb, strange experience that I cannot name, a stage that is not new, nor will it ever be, but it is considered by others extreme, super-cool and crazy.

Right, I do not need to quarrel. I do not need to be involved in an argument, because I can anticipate its leading to nothing.

I have lost myself in what I like and admire. What I adore, love and despise, that should represent me, but it kind of hides me more. That I should be asked about my feelings, without knowing how to offer the answer, that is outrageous.

But you do get me, don't you, darling?

That is why you are here, still so unreal and distant. You are here to understand my worries and wishes, in case I do not. I believe, dear, that you are the single person spared from the crowd that I have let be embraced by my bizarre misanthropy.

(Some do not even know what that is, but I should skip that part.)

But I must apologize for this statement, for this fictional action of mine; I love people, generally speaking, and I should not forget that when it is asked of me.

Future III

One,

Two,

Another disappointment,

That makes three of them.

I dream to tell him, who does not even exist - if I am correct - but please, God, bring him in my way! - I dream to speak up my mind, and tell him my dreams, and how I am waiting, and will have waited for so long, and so patiently I will have done it, that he will have never dreamt of finding me.

How much sense it makes, I know not. And I am not sure that it is a need that makes me give meaning to my chaotic dreams, but maybe the joy will be endlessly perfect; and perhaps it will. Just for once, I want to be heard.

Healing

And as the truth drained me until I felt nothing, the space left was covered with lies.

Comforting lies, however, and those lies showed me not much to see with my eyes

But with my heart and mind I felt joy and serenity, as never before, I think

And as the truth drained me to numbness, I just let myself sink.

10.Absurd Folly

Yes, I had been wrong. And of course, nothing happened, because he had left. I was desperate to find what did not exist, and so I left myself even worse as before. I did not even leave myself, it would have been better if I had forgotten about me entirely, but nothing of the kind has ever happened.

Yet I resigned and felt a need to change my situation, and so I decided to move on and let Mr Hope know how glorious my story was.

But I could not let myself be opened up, just like it would have been his right to know what I was made of, therefore I tried getting closer and closer to him. What I truly wanted - and I obviously knew it - was to increase my chances of being liked by him, so that I could feel better about myself.

Trying not to seem hilarious or strange, I started looking for any chance that would bring me in his attention, and just so you know, there was plenty of them.

"Mr Hope, I am sure you have read this book - Mr Hope, have you seen my drawings? - Sir, I have wanted to ask you if this side of the garden could be a great background for a portrait I am having done this week."

My head was full of Mr Hope and my terribly annoying questions, but he seemed to like it; for, from a time, he stopped looking away when I approached, and he even continued the conversation when there was no subject to be discussed. He once remarked, "Miss Gloom, how many things we have in common!", and I was so close to tell him, "Yes, right, but you don't know that I have changed my tastes so that we could have that much in common," but I hushed my voice; he would not know this until it was urgent for me to tell him.

This went on and on, and I was feeling pretty comfortable with it; I even thought he liked me so much that there was no need to continue my plan. He kept saying that he would remain in the county and would not move in the near future, and I was very happy with it, for his leaving would have been too much for my nerves.

My absurd yet mild folly did not let me see that Miss Modesty did not care a bit about me being so close to Mr Hope; I just continued and thought, 'oh, how strong I am for doing this!'. Yeah, right.

One day, Miss Fellow came to tea. As I was sitting down, she began speaking so fast, that I thought she would give her last breath after finishing her speech. But the reason for her rapid talking was this: that news was too important to be talked of normally.

"Have you heard that Miss Modesty is moving out? Why would she do that, I wonder! It has been always so pleasant a community, and there is not a solid reason for her leaving. Can you imagine, she has led us to believe that nothing would keep her away and now she is decided to leave?! Miss Gloom, are you feeling well?"

For a reason known only by me, I turned pale when hearing the news. While Miss Fellow was busy assuring herself that I was fine, a joyful thought came to me; the thought that Miss Modesty would represent no threat any further. What I did not know then, well, it is to see.

The morning after this conversation I was strolling around, smiling and smiling and, again, smiling at my prospects - my imaginary prospects, that is! And I do not know to this day how I came to walk by Miss Modesty's house, but I believe that a secret feeling of sorrow and regret brought me there, lest I now deny my being so insensitive. I was looking at her windows, and imagined how she was packing up her things, leaving us - yes, us, what a great word! - carry on with our plans, and, oh, how many plans I had waiting for fulfilment at that point! And just when I was deciding myself to go on, I saw that none other than Mr Hope quit the place. My smile got even bigger, my eyes even merrier, and he obviously observed it, but he seemed rather confused than happy to see me. I had imagined that I would be the first to talk, yet he started before I knew it.

"Miss Gloom, it is so unusual to find you here, were you coming in? I am sure that you and Miss Modesty have a large amount of subjects to discuss, and perhaps she shall be the only one to keep you company, in a month or two. Perhaps three, if my journey is to be delayed."

There is no reason to explain how strange his words seemed. If you have ever gone through this situation, you will surely know their impact upon me.

"Sir, are you leaving? You are leaving as well? ...Dear, this is so overwhelming, I... "

I should say that at that moment I collapsed on a bench nearby, trying to catch my breath, for it had become harder and harder to say anything, and while I was sitting down, I could not but watch him as he looked at me even more puzzled than before; "come here, already, I am done waiting for you!", I was shouting inside. If there had been indeed an explanation, giving it would have been far too hard, and in my state, the only wish I had was that he would tell me I was just dreaming, but his look gave me the true meaning of his words.

And after my conduct came back, I raised my head, softly, calmly whispering, "Very well, sir, you may go."

"But do I need your approval, your consent? Didn't you know that I was leaving? You are so childish, Miss Gloom, at times!"

"...Childish? Am I behaving childishly to you, sir?! Do you not think that my behaviour, my manners, my opinions and my hopes, my dear, broken, shattered hopes are rather those of a fool?" This was all that I could tell him at that moment. But I was still going on in my mind, "Is it despise in your eyes, that you let me see now? Is it compassion? I do not know, tell me, do you see me as a child? Am I that inferior to you? Mr Hope, your name does you justice, by every possible mean, for every hope has been proven false, every hopeful reason is hopeless, every feeling is unnatural, how can that be childish? It is sad, I am afraid! Sad!"

"It is sad, sir, that you think of me so," I finally added.

"I am sorry, Miss, yet I cannot lengthen my stay. Pray excuse me, and good-bye."

He turned away, as usual. But I did not cry as I was sure that Miss Modesty had; I went straight home, took the pen and wrote the explanations - I was convinced - that would reach him. I was sure, then, that he would read them and think of me before going to sleep, and even dream of me, though not that kind of dream that I had desperately wished for.

"My explanations are given," I said out loud. "Now, I just need to send them to him, that is all, and then, the secret will no longer be in my possession. He will have to handle it, and I will move on, as he once advised me to."

But I could not hand them to you directly, I was not up to it; no, I was not - though I believe that, if you can spare your great kindness and open the door of your chamber, and then, should you look down, upon the floor, I am sure that you will find a letter that explains, and most accurately it truly does, my reasons, fears, hopes and dreams, and most importantly, my regrets and regards to you, sir.

Yours humbly,

Miss Gloom

9.Discussing

I have described so far only two of my flaws. My third one is my imagination. A gift, I usually consider it, and as I am writing now, I think it is my salvation. But then, as I was walking away from the party at Miss Modesty's picnic, I tortured myself with plots of what was to come. This is how I was thinking while pacing through the trees:

He will come to me, and I just have to wait. I shall hear him say, 'do not leave', and I will ask him again, 'which of us do you love?'. And he will look at me in despair, and I will say, 'oh, just as I thought!' and he will come closer, and he will whisper how I have charmed him from the very first moment, how I have been superior to all of the other girls in his eyes, and how long he has waited to tell me this! How perfect it will be then, and no Miss Modesty or Miss Hatred or even Mr Daring will come into my mind, but only he will be there! How I love him, deeply and truly, and how I will laugh at my struggles then!

I was deep in thought when I finally heard his footsteps. I turned, glowing with happiness.

But there was Miss Fellow instead.

"Miss Gloom, why did you leave the party? You should really come back. A gentleman has asked for you!"

A gentleman, indeed? "Mr Hope, I guess?"

"Oh, no, my dear Miss Gloom, Mr Hope has left; though Mr Daring is very eager to see you!"

I turned pale at hearing this. Mr Daring was the last person I wanted to see, and that made me even bitterer. "Miss Fellow, I appreciate that you have come to announce me, but I am not in the proper state of meeting him."

"But what is it?", she said compassionately. "I am sure something has happened, for you were so lively just ten minutes ago! Do tell me, perhaps I can comfort you."

"No, there is nothing to be told, Miss Fellow, I truly thank you; I just wish I had not come in the first place, and perhaps I wish I had not met him at all..."

"Who, Mr Daring?"

Of course she did not know who I was referring to. But if I told her whereto my feelings were directed, wouldn't she be startled and let everyone know?!"

"Mr Daring is a stranger to me, I believe, and he is not too much of a trouble to me."

"Do tell me, Miss Gloom, do tell me, for I believe I can help you, for, you know, I have met everyone here and perhaps I can do something to improve your state."

This went too far and I had to end it, but I could not think of a decent way to do it. I told her rapidly, "Miss Fellow, you have done far too much for me and I cannot thank you enough, but this is a matter that I must deal with alone."

"I see, then; I beg your pardon, Miss."

After she left, the very first set of tears came out of their haven and wet my face; as I was wiping them away, since I was not very comfortable with the feeling of crying, I closed my eyes and at last saw how miserable I had come. How many expectations I had had, and how untrue, unlikely to become true, I had been so wrong, and Mr Hope, that odious Mr Hope, was only to blame!

For why would he come to me and tell me I was a great study to him, if he left the next moment to meet Miss Modesty?! And even so, why would he even lengthen the acquaintance if he thought it would have brought him no good?! Why had he picked me to steal my attentions, so that I would blame myself entirely?! Why did I even know him, and why did I care so much about him?

This question remained unanswered for several months, and, were I asked now if I knew the answer, I would still speak up my unawareness.

Solution

There are several, very different ways of solving a puzzle; its dependence upon the individual is clear; but there are still two distinct paths: let yourself be puzzled, or solve it before you get so.

Some just like to be surprised, others just enjoy seeing how the pieces collide perfectly; I can't tell what I like best, but what I know is that I always begin with the frame.

The exterior is so important that I refuse to see the inside without it. Maybe it is just me, or perhaps everyone does that. Either way, I just needed to do justice to the puzzles by declaring that everyone is puzzled and a puzzle at the same time. How ambitious I picture myself, that I should solve every puzzle I encounter. But nothing comes for free, and we all know that.

Explanations

I thought I would tell him this when he, and only he, could hear me. But the chance is gone and my powers as well. And my feelings, much of them, too. So why should I keep it a secret if I can spare - oh, how I love this word! - when I can spare myself, him and all of us from this dramatical end? So, let us begin.

I am one of them, therefore I own feelings and I do care about them. But I am one of them, however, and that does not change too much in your eyes. In your eyes I mirrored my pains, dreams and hopes, and my affection, I am sure. But in your eyes you never let me see anything important. Just feelings for one of them. Feelings for them all, sure.

My misery consists in my constantly changing for that one person. It's a pretty tough beginning for someone of my age, but it is a beginning, and much as I like to comment on others' feelings, I begin to feel that way, just as they feel.

Allrightie, I shall just skip and spare everyone - spare, again; sparing is a beautiful action, it is very fulfilling! - and I'll just answer your question.

'Are you of stone?', you asked me laughingly. This is the answer, but I cannot afford to hope that you will like it.

I am not of stone. I do not even contain a single piece of stone in any side of mine. I become scared or happy, but never of stone. I am not unfeeling and cruel, and not even close to being unloving. I have feelings, too - and I know you have heard this too many times to believe it; so I'll move on with this - and my feelings are perhaps just as they need to be.

But you asked me why I did not cry when the separation was approaching. This is the answer; I did not know that there would be a separation, you were the only one that knew. Was it disappointment in my not crying, was it regret that I saw in your eyes then? How could I know now?! You have been avoiding me; but I'll make sure you find all of the answers you need here.

Then I made the mistake that relieved me; I told you what a sane person would do if a separation was made. Back then, I knew of our soon good-bye. I told you what I had done, and not what a person would, but my own actions you were told, and you noticed that, so you kept asking and asking until I finally decided to reply. But I chose not to tell you directly, for I knew that that would have been the worst movement of mine. So I finally revealed my weakness and you said 'oh, that's ok, it just happens' and then you said you'd stay around, but did you? Did you reach me again to say something soothing as you had used to? No, as you know, you didn't move a bit, you didn't ask me how I was feeling, you did nothing, that's all.

But I can never blame you; we know that this guilt belongs to none of us, and that it is just natural; yes, whatever.

So why did I cry? Why did I not cry?

You had given me signs of anything I needed to be happy, and that is why I didn't cry that day. You know, the day when they all cried, but I didn't. And then I found the answer, from your lips it was, that you would move on; so I cried, in my strange stubbornness - I bet you would tell me now that my stubbornness is clearly natural and I cannot blame myself - keep your comforting words to yourself, I won't take your hand this time. It has been so long a time since I last took it, that I know now that its help will be pointless.

If we had remained the only people on earth, I would have been more than perfectly happy. I wouldn't have cared about anyone but you; and you left me, you left me and all of my hopes in the darkness you made me create.

But you are not to blame. No, dear, you are free from any accusation.

For the record, Mr Hope is you; and you are Mr Hope. How is that, huh?

8.From Time to Time

I kindly accepted his sudden leaving as an urgency; how was I about to know that he had promised Miss Modesty to call on her? Still, this was not revealed to me at that point. Of course, I would find it soon after that.

I eventually continued my walk and ended it when reaching home. It appeared that someone had come to see me and had insisted on remaining until I came home. Who could it be, who could it be... yes, Miss Hatred.

"Miss Hatred, how surprising it is that you should come!"

Her smile disappeared as she revealed the true reason for her coming.

"Spare me the trouble of listening, dear; I haven't come to hear pleasantries. Tell me, and make it sincerely, you do not like me, do you?"

"Like her? Huh, let me see!", I thought.

"Why," I calmly began, "why do you ask this? Is there anything that can keep me away from liking you?"

She thought upon her words for a moment and then looked away, saying, "Yes, there is yourself that keeps you away from liking me!"

"I beg your pardon; why - truly, really! - why do you think that I should like you?! Just because your luck let you fool Miss Fellow -"

"It is not my luck that let me win Miss Fellow's empathy, it is rather her good-sense than my being lucky!"

"Miss Hatred, I do not know where this is leading."

"I do not like you, Miss Gloom. I simply do not!", and after saying this she turned and left the house.

"She doesn't like me, how come that I could neglect that! Who does she think she is? I cannot just like her, just like that; all of a sudden, it stays not in my ways."

While focusing on that kind of thoughts, I was brought a strange note; it apparently was from Mr Hope and he essentially let me know that he would not dine that evening at home, but in other places. "Great", I told myself.

And so I continued my existence, with little to bother myself, still less to do, and I hardly touched anything but my books.

But one day, while searching for a novel to reread, (yes, reread), I found the old paper - though not that old - on which I had written my main inquiry about the world. Yes, that paper; the one that had introduced me to Mr Hope that faithful day. Still not that faithful, rather fateful, for it changed me more than a little.

I grabbed a pencil and angrily wrote: "Apparently none."

But the following day, Miss Modesty came in to tell me that a picnic was taking place at her estate and that I should come too, for no party was complete without me. Great words, dear! Very inspiring words, indeed. How could I not accept it when I knew that Mr Hope was to come?! So I put on my white dress, that brilliantly white dress that had struck him when we had first met and prepared my words and smiles, so that I could please everyone present.

Not that anyone truly liked me; I was known for my intelectual superiority and quickness in thought, and that was too much for any of them to bear. So I was just renowned for what I could think and nothing more. No one could ever love me in that state, for I scared everyone with my mind. (Not that I disliked it!)

There I found an enormous group of people, and counting them would have been frankly useless. But I found who I was looking for; Mr Hope sat by Miss Fellow's side and was speaking about the choice of music a ball had had (which of course I had not been invited at), and their reaction at seeing me was distinct. Miss Fellow jumped out of her seat and grabbed my hands and exclaimed how perfect it was that I was there as well, and dear Mr Hope looked away, only scarcely mumbling, "Miss Gloom."

"Miss Fellow," I said loudly enough so he could hear me, "I apologize for having left in so hurried a manner that day, but you know my ways, you cannot be surprised; I have a very changing temper."

"Yes, I understand that, and I could not but notice that you did not like Miss Hatred that well. But this is forgiven, let us turn to Mr Hope now. Mr Hope, aren't you delighted to see Miss Gloom here?"

"Rather surprised," he said nodding.

His answers were always short and vague. I was left silent by his insensitive, peculiar words every time I heard them. But this time, well, I was filled with courage and replied, looking straight into his eyes, piercing them for several moments, "Why should you be surprised? You do not know me that well so as to be surprised by any change I suffer; and you could have said at least that it was a great pleasure to meet me again, and perhaps excuse yourself, sir, for having left me that day alone in the streets, with no explanation given!"

His eyes widened as his lips moved without making any sound, and then, finally, he answered: "I was needed at Miss Modesty's."

I said no more and turned away. I felt his eyes watching me as I went farther and farther, but when I turned my eyes, pretending to lift my train a little, I observed that he had left his seat and was wandering around, his back at me.

"Dear God, how will this end?!"

Broken Glass

I stepped upon the broken glass, upon the broken misery

But I'd laced my boots too tightly to care about the memory

I defined everything that had no name, so there is not

Anything left away to rot.

I stepped upon the broken glass, the shattered memory

But I forgot all of it too soon to feel the misery

Each step held me farther, kept me away

All I did told me not to stay.

But I stayed and it made no sense that I should

When hearing that I just knew that I could

What is a heart to the soul, and what's wrong

If I just wait until I wait for too long?

What's wrong if I keep in mind the story

And tell it later, so I can get the glory

And what's wrong if I refuse to pass

The threats of this still breaking glass?

I Have

I've tried and spared nothing to gain

And I've done everything I could to claim

A little of your big sacrificing heart.

But I have endured and felt and sobbed

I've even stolen, watched and robbed

A little of your compassionate heart.

Without tearing it apart.

At least I tried.

7.Meeting Miss Hatred

"What was he thinking?", I was asking myself continually as I was approaching Miss Fellow's estate. "Our ways will meet again - this sounds like a sure matter. He probably did not mean it. Still, as I know him, it probably was just another thought of his, one of the hundreds that come in his mind at any time of the day."

"He must have known that he would leave me this confused, there is no other way that this could make sense!" This was the last thing on my mind before I knocked at Miss Fellow's door. A servant let me in and he quickly left to announce my presence there. "This is very unusual, I am never announced to anyone, anywhere! Something must have happened and I have no clue."

This strange 'something' proved itself to be the arrival of another guest. I found out when entering the room in which Miss Fellow and the stranger were sitting. The breakfast had ended and apparently Miss Fellow was engaged in a discussion about it with a young woman, that seemed very pleasant and friendly. At seeing me, the host jumped up of her seat and hurried herself to introduce us.

"Miss Gloom, my dear Miss Gloom, do let me introduce you to my new friend, Miss Hatred!"

"New friend?!", I thought. "Since when do people invite new friends to breakfast?!"

The new friend came to me in the same hurried manner as Miss Fellow and, revealing a high-pitched voice, with something artful in it, she grabbed my hands and said, "Miss Gloom, is it? Miss Gloom, it is a great honour to meet you at last!"

She enjoyed pronouncing the vowels louder, which made her even more hilarious than she was.

This Miss Hatred - whose name was very strange to me, since her manners seemed friendly - was a short, plump young woman, whose face was in constant blush and in whose eyes could be seen a feeling of either hostility or friendliness, no in between. I imagined that we should be friends, since Miss Fellow had clearly wanted us to, introducing me in so excited a manner.

After being seated, Miss Fellow instantly began talking about her:

"Miss Gloom, let me tell you about our new acquaintance. She is little of a new acquaintance to me, I think, for I already know a thing or two about her."

While hearing this, I could not help myself from looking doubtfully at Miss Hatred. Something was unsure to me, but I decided at last to just sit and watch her.

"She is the daughter of Sir Hatred, a very renowned and wealthy gentleman in her county. She does not live here, of course; she has told me that her father owns five large estates in that county, can you imagine, five estates? Miss Gloom, it must be really hard to own all of that! As I was telling you, she is a single child, in possession of twenty thousand pounds -"

"Two-and-twenty!", the other said.

"Twenty-two thousand pounds, no one can be that rich, that is impossible!", I said to myself. I let them continue, knowing that not a single word was true. Her face was not one of those pale, noble faces that I knew very well to belong to extremely rich people. Hers rather belonged to a peasant that thought too ill of herself to tell people the truth.

"And she arrived today, I found her knocking at my door; she asked me where to find a decent inn to spend a week in."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Fellow; why don't you let her tell me all of these?"

"Oh, she is very pleased when others talk about her! Is it not the noblest thing you have ever heard?"

"Rather the most unbelievable," I mumbled, covering my mouth as if I were coughing. "Do continue!"

All of this time Miss Hatred stayed silent, watching me as I watched her. She knew I didn't believe her story. I knew she knew; how could I ever trust this exposure about a stranger? It was written in her eyes that she couldn't be thus.

"And she was just looking for a friend, so I welcomed her and invited her to breakfast. We should have some tea before lunch, don't you think?"

"As a matter of fact," I began, as if excusing myself for the intrusion, "I came here to tell you something privately. It would make no sense if I continued my stay, so I bid you good-bye for now; it's been a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Hatred!"

"...But you must stay, Miss Gloom!", I heard the host say. It was too late, for I was already walking on the streets. "Miss Hatred, whoever is that, is a very unwanted acquaintance!", I said, loudly enough as to be heard by anyone that passed near me.

Suddenly, I heard Mr Hope say, out of nowhere, "Miss Hatred? Who is that?"

I turned to face him. He was smiling. Hm, strange.

"Just someone I just wish I hadn't met."

"Is she that woman that just quit Miss Fellow's? The one that stops by that expensive carriage?"

It was her, indeed. I turned and saw Miss Hatred wave her hand until Miss Fellow closed the door; she at once started walking towards the side of the street we were standing on, and I immediately grabbed Mr Hope's arm and fixed my bonnet so as my face would not be recognized.

"What are you doing now?", he asked me.

"Just walking after breakfast, and you are joining me."

"Very well, I guess," he said; "has she done you any wrong?", he then added.

"Yes, I find her very unpleasant and would rather you didn't ask me so much at once."

He turned his head so as to find if Miss Hatred could be seen. "She has disappeared, I am afraid that your diversion has reached its end."

Saying this, he left and took a narrow alley on the left.

"Very kind, and he wouldn't even bow or say good-bye! Very gentlemanlike manners he truly possesses!"

Future II

I have never been more unaware as far as my future is concerned. I know where the path I recently started leads, and I know how it ends; but this ending I refer to is followed by a much clearer beginning, which, I think, is not clear at all.

Yes, I know where I want to be and I am trying my best to fulfil this dream.

Those dreams, apparently, I beg to be excused for this fault. My dream is one and only, yet it contains several that I can't even name properly. There is my 'High-School Dream' that frankly I'd rather throw away; high-school is strange and I don't consider it a big step at all, thinking it's just a hard challenge. Therefore there is not much to tell about it, its results are but very clearly drawn in my head. A very intelligent young lady I picture myself by the end of this 'dream' that however has a real side as well. This real side I know that is different from what I fancy, but I can't help myself from dreaming, that's the explanation I should give.

I am a dreamer, I dream night and day and even see my dreams before my eyes.

Imagination, creativity and a little impossibility of fulfilment are stuck in my head and stuff my mind with these dreams that I can't really handle, though I state very proudly at times that I am able to.

I sense his presence when his existence isn't even assured. I hope to be able to live like this in the future, though I am convinced that it won't work whatsoever.

But something I know well; perhaps I know it because of my resigning temper, that I always find better in worse.

When my unknowing heart screams, tears stream onto my face, and then my heart knows something better and brighter, shinier and softer: that what I knew before was only the bad part of the thing. Yay, I'm so happy after that and I find myself in a comforting state of floating.

I found out one day this. The joy a dream causes me equals the joy I feel when the real thing happens. However, my feelings harden at times and it's a lot more difficult to break them apart in that situation.

But let us hope for the best, shall we?

Happiness Makes the Difference

Between me and others. While I live less than expected - not that my life is shorter, ladies - as I was saying, I may live less than others, no foreign substance crawling through my nerves and veins, like I'd be expected - yes, the fault of modernity it is, you guessed right! - I may suffer less and have less opportunities to end this 'pain' which I prefer to call, just like that, 'life'. Alas, I will never commit suicide as I consider it the greatest sin (not to love yourself? Please, you are supposed to love yourself since you have been gifted a body from Above!) and I will never ask for more or less.

But what is all of this chit-chattering about things to come? The present is here, and I will hear its call!

Ladies, I know it's the first time I've ever treated you like guests at a tea party; didn't you know that my favourite line is, 'host a tea party yourself, guests are optional'? Did you? Well, why are you still asking?

This monologue reflects upon the differences that imagination has caused. Too many books, numerous days spent in solitude - remember: solitude, not loneliness! I shall clear this difference in a few words later - and countless times of disappointment. But how can it be cured? Is there a treatment? Can imagination be defeated just like fever can be? Is imagination naturally followed by depression?

Hun, I assure you that you have been going through too much for your age. Call me mad, say I'm suffering, sing me to sleep.

But I do not suffer from too large an imagination.

I might just say that I enjoy it!

How can this be?

Well, did you just say that you liked him hurting you? While my feelings are less motivated, yours are the least motivated. No reason for you out there, don't you know?!

Pain is more painful than you think it is. This matter, dear one, will just fly away as another one comes in. There'll be constant struggle inside you.

While I will thank God for every second I breathe.

We should all do that, really!

6.Morning Walk

I could not be spared of his friendship; this thought was not even perceptible by my mind. I could not stand it. Not at all, if I'm honest! But Mr Hope's friendship was rather a second wish of mine. Just like a gift that one receives from a person that calls on them, it is rather the visit that causes a greater joy to the host; speaking of hosts, however, I hadn't hosted a tea party in quite some time, so I set off one morning towards Miss Fellow. Miss Fellow, pleasantries and joyful, cordial conversations! This defined her to me, though I knew that her comforting words were not showing a great deal of her. I knew that it was more to her than an amiable companion, I knew that I could eventually sit by the fire with her and talk about my troubles. Yet I did not seem to notice this fact.

As I was saying, my morning walk had one purpose, and that of making sure that Miss Fellow would accompany me in the afternoon. Just as I was wondering which path to take so as to make it to her house, I heard a well-known, not that wished for voice; whose it was, I was then sure.

"Mr Hope, how agreeable that we meet again! So early, too."

His face was not expressing anything, at least anything of a joy for seeing me again. "Miss, um, Gloom, is it? Miss Gloom, I am terrifyingly sorry that I haven't contacted you since our last meeting," and then, as he approached and joined me in my walk, "I am indeed sorry."

"You need not apologise; there has been no mistake done. Pray, Mr Hope, tell me, is it an urgent need to walk at this time of the day in such lonely places, or is it your strange wish that you should have a private word with me?"

"No - yes; I'd rather ask you whereto you are now heading."

"You did not answer my inquiry, sir; I demand an answer to it," I said placing a smile onto my face.

He stayed silent for some time, then looking away (he was of course hoping that I would imagine he was too tormented to answer it; I knew he was not that tormented in my presence; it was simply impossible!) he added, "You demand a reply, you say; there is none, I'm afraid."

I looked at him in despair; he did not know what he was looking for?! How awkward, how strange and, if I may say so, outrageous that he shouldn't give to a young lady an answer so important to her!

I mumbled, "How could you?!" and went forward more rapidly. I had hoped that he would let me go, yet he joined me in my hurried stepping and added, "How I could leave you alone, you ask? How I could not see you for so long a time? Tell me, Miss Gloom -"

At this point I was fancying that he would take m by my arm and gaze deeply into my eyes; guess what, dear reader - he was looking away from me. Gentlemen aren't so nice, I assure you!

"How could you not wonder what I had been doing?"

My thoughts were heading to one direction: 'But I did wonder at your absence, sir! You were the only reality swimming in my mind; how could you not notice this?! But you have been away for so long, of course..."

Yet my reply was most sincere and then I didn't know its effect: "I did not ask myself where you were and what you were doing. Sir, your acquaintance has been too vague for me to bother myself about you."

He finally turned his eyes to look at me. I pretended that he cared about me so much as to be moved by this cold reply. However, he couldn't care less. If I had known it at that time, I would have spared myself from lots and lots of trouble.

But who said that things were fair? I did someday. But I denied it soon after.

"Miss Gloom, excuse me for letting our acquaintance be vague. My favourite colour is dark green, I love walking in the afternoon and I usually have dinner around seven o'clock. May I ask what your habits are?"

"I am sorry, how is the knowledge of your favourite colour and time to dine going to help me with improving our acquaintance?"

"It would be useful if you agreed to come this evening to dinner, Miss Gloom."

I stared in amazement. Moving my lips as if I wanted to utter something and could not, and frowning while staring at him, I considered this answer an invitation. But I had to make sure of it; or perhaps only to lengthen the conversation.

"Should I take this as an invitation, sir?"

Waiting for a positive answer, I was struck by his reply:

"Only if you wish so."

And then he at last departed, only after saying as a conclusion, "Our ways will meet again, Miss!"

Future

I have never been more worried about the future that is, still, in my hands. But the reason, as I suppose, is that everything is so late to be changed! For I considered these aspects safe, not to be troubled; I trusted promises, but they proved broken. Even more, I trusted promises that had never been made!

Yet, I wonder... Could there be more in this separation? Mild feelings are tamed by it; strong ones are tightened together; from my side, I know it is a case of the latter type; but the other side, I wish to know what floats inside that mind! And I was so close to open the door, to unlock the secret, to find the answer! How wrong I proved to be! And the smiles I was welcomed with! Those smiles, never to be forgotten!

5.A Misunderstanding

As we were reaching Miss Modesty's front door, a young man rapidly came out of it. His face expressed, well, a little bit of... nothing, its features very plain, and his manners were invisible since we caught very little of him. He was hurrying to get on a carriage, his carriage, perhaps?, and as we watched him away, Miss Modesty came in a hurry to introduce us to the gentleman.

"Mr Daring, wait, please," as he turned, she caught her breath, "I must introduce you to two of my friends, Miss Fellow and Miss Gloom."

This Mr Daring looked upon both of us and stopped his gaze on me; while lifting his hat, in a very careless manner, (and not bowing, as most of the gentlemen did at that time!), uttered in nonchalance, "Very pleased to meet you," and then sent me a look that puzzled me even more. If I had to describe the impression he left me, only one word would be appropriate:

Awkward

Well, I couldn't doubt that the new gentleman was this particular acquaintance I had formed. Therefore, my visit at Miss Modesty's was pointless; I came in for a minute, only to form her the impression that I was interested in her health, and then excused myself, knowing that they currently thought I was boring and dull.

This general impression, I know, exists. But I cannot help it, because, as I am sure that I cannot change myself, nor my actions can. Alas, their distractions and entertainment consist in superficial matters, that only improve their good opinion about themselves. I could not care less about my reputation, really!

That stranger was improbably going to return, so I cleared my mind off him; yet there was another stranger that an explanation was demanded from. But how could I reach his presence without the odious yet pleasant Miss Modesty? I had tried the invitation method; it didn't work. But beside that, my patient, calm goodness could find no other way to see him privately. "Urgh," I mumbled, "he is inapproachable! If only I knew his weakness!" I was so impetuous, not knowing that, by declaring my wish to find it, I was committing the worst mistake I could possibly do! But what are these reasons against an idea so bright and promising? Nothing, I am sure!

So I set off towards home; I did not pay enough attention to their state at my leaving; and as I was just entering my dearly-missed haven, a carriage stopped by, of which the very gentleman I had met just a couple of minutes before stepped out and hurried towards me.

"Miss Gloom!," he started, lifting his hat in his rather disturbing manner. "I remained with the look of your eyes in mind; I knew I would see you again soon!"

What was his name again?, I was wondering. Why was he even there? His pretensions, that I should remember him so soon after first meeting him! What was he even after? Of course, he'd been struck by my appearance, but should I have considered his words a compliment? All of a sudden, an image of an ordinary peasant appeared before my eyes in his place. I finally answered, "It is good to see you again, sir; but I must go now." And then went into the house and closed the door behind me; in his face, yes!

But it didn't lower his opinion of me, should it be called an opinion at the utmost! For I received a letter soon after the incident, which I of course answered in a very indifferent way. He was expressing how glad he would be to meet me one day again, and perhaps exchange a word; how charming I was, in spite of having slammed the front door right in his plain face! What could he look for? As I was saying, I responded to the letter very kindly yet mostly hostilely.

Sir, I may misunderstand your intentions, but I do not comprehend your reasons for writing me this letter, whose tone I sincerely find peculiar. Were your wishes to further improve our acquaintance, I would be very happy to welcome you here. But this letter-writing is not very pleasant, I dare say, therefore I would maintain that our relationship should be increased by facing each other in our conversations.

I could not tell him that it couldn't have been better than seeing him very soon after that; yet I could not endure the thought of his walking into my house for the betterment of our acquaintance. Yet I was and hoped to remain confident in my powers; though, as soon as an incident twisted my way of seeing things - nevertheless, as soon as this incident twisted my mind, I began seeing things differently.

Mr Daring soon sent me a note informing me that he would pay me a visit, at all costs, as he named it; well, what was I then to say to him? No information of his interests and likes and dislikes had been revealed to me, yet I was strong in my belief that nothing should have prevented us from getting along.

But I was far, far, far from being right! Because, as I soon after noticed, we had nothing - but absolutely nothing - in common! If I began a conversation upon weather, he would answer "yes, Miss, I completely understand your opinion and I do believe mine is not very different from it." If I dared speak about our only mutual acquaintance, and Miss Modesty it was, and not that I was very fond of it, I assure you!, yet I saw nothing better that could improve the current situation. As I was saying, should I comment on her garments, or on her hair, furnishings or favourite colour, he would have answered that he was not able to form a distinct opinion, for mine were

Flawless

Perfect

Best

And many other attributions that neither I, nor my statements could possess. He didn't know, of course, about it, so I just nodded and kept replying with a smiling 'yes'. Great, indeed, now I had to get rid of him. His presence didn't comfort me very much, I dare say; and just when a servant came in and reminded me of the tea time's approach, I jumped out of my seat and yelled at the servant that no things should be brought in, for Mr Daring and I would be taking a relaxing walk in the park.

He misplaced my intentions and thought that I had gone insane, or that I had to converse with him something privately. Seriously, I just wanted to shorten his way out by approaching the gate.

After exiting the building, he came closer to me; I quickened the pace and started:

"Sir, our acquaintance has done no good to my well-being," and looking for a moment at his face (which I found very ugly for my taste, to be honest!), I continued laughingly, "unless you wanted it to be so. We, people, get to know other people in order to improve our social skills; this is my idea, which I take very seriously, and it would decrease my respect to you if you denied its being true."

I stopped, awaiting the answer to this cold beginning. Nothing of the kind occurred, so I continued calmly.

"Sir," and after this I no longer smiled, rather frowned, showing a puzzled look on my face, "I do not like your conduct, and that is very rude of me; but I also believe that liking people is more of a trouble to me, and I would rather they weren't nice to me. Perhaps that is the reason I now bid you good-bye and express my wishes that your health remains unchanged and that you shall never want to see me again."

As I said those last words, I glanced at the gate that stood before us. I at last added, "thank you for your visit, Mr Daring."

He was too struck to utter anything, and he turned away. I smiled inside myself, although I didn't look it.

Two years later, however, I was given to see him again. But he did not recognize my features, though he did seem to know them somehow. I could not have know that, later in life, (if two years' time is that late!) I would lay on paper these apologies and excuses. My mind was windy, as I myself named it:

How sad that I would see that face again - its alarming eyes warned me, as I set off to complain about what my own hands had written and my own voice had stated. But then, was I truly prepared? I even lied to my wisdom, considering it strong enough. But its efficience was by no means real. God proved me wrong; much more were to come, and I barely thought about any of them. Back then, my only solid excuse was my unawareness, my unborn power of truly portraying a being that - not as I was thinking in those lonely times - was superior to me.

As I thought more of it, my senses failed to see what was obvious. Right before me stood a large series of feelings that continually admitted that I had been wrong. It was not him that I had judged wrong - it was my own character that was screaming with no chances to be heard.
This was somehow an end to the stupid and extravagant irony in my conduct. But scarcely had I believed this, that the face I had dreaded came up again; in front of me, one more time, it seemed more powerful. And I hid somehow from it, not seeing that the face was no longer gazing upon me; it was searching for new victims.
Its cruelties were insatiable, its feelings were nothing real. The kind of the fear for it was more of a willingness to get rid of it. A despicable being, I guess it was.

But I shouldn't bother the reading eyes with these matters; so, soon after Mr Daring left, I turned my head back to Mr Hope, which was obviously taking a large amount of attention from me.

4.The Truth

Why do I consider it a waste? I was of course told the truth about him. Mr Hope he was named and it appeared, at least so my dear Miss Fellow presumed, that he had been long engaged to Miss Modesty. How perfect the facts then seemed to me! Though I could not help feeling that a great injustice had been done to me; but there were plenty of reasons to be proud of myself, for I had interfered and put an end to his cheap play. That was the night when Miss Fellow found out my thoughts; I revealed them knowing that undoubtedly my heart would take another course and would never look upon Mr Hope with the same eyes as before.

I was obviously wrong in supposing that, for his eyes still haunted me even after being so serious and confident. Astonishing!

Well, yes, love had never been common in my case, if I may call it love.

Returning to Mr Hope, I started watching his conduct closely. How dreadful and annoying he acted when Miss Modesty was around! No word was being spoken between the two, and his eyes rather glanced upon me - yes, another flaw of mine.

Whenever I catch someone in my heart's web, and trap him inside, I continue unaffected, completely confident in my powers. Not knowing, in fact, that the person does not stand my face. But still I imagine that his eyes are in search of me. This flaw, I know, should be harmful; but it's rather harmless - I suppose my imagination is so extensive that, although I can clearly make the difference between fantasy and reality, it can be very strong when needed. This was the case, I'm afraid; Mr Hope would not let me rest for a second. His questions were simple, yet they troubled me with finding the best, the most appropriate answers. His manners were indifferent, yet I imagined they were shy; he was indeed uninterested in finding the key to my story, yet I considered him eager to know.

Well, why would he act so indifferent when Miss Modesty was around? His love wasn't real, I believed back then. And the true hope appeared in front of me. I wish it didn't!

And then I thought, very happy to possess a single ray of hope:

"Well, no effort shall be spared to turn him away from her; my powers are not gone, and I'll make him see that."

And so I continued to walk all around the room, at times stopping to glance at the window, and then returning; my thoughts were succeeded messily and after a while I could not distinguish any conclusion. But my aim was as simple as blinking. I should invite Mr Hope to tea one day, and clear his mind of all Miss Modesty that is in there. Alas, I set off that afternoon, in search of him; but no one had seen Mr Hope, and I was so sure that he was at Miss Modesty's! But I denied it, and my willingness in the end led me to Miss Fellow's door.

"Miss Gloom, how glad I am to see you!", she said as her face was being enlightened, "do come inside!"

I walked by her side along the corridor and there was no doubt that my coming was rather a bad thing for her. Yet she would not show it, of course.

"Come, do be seated," she then said; but then she hurried away, leaving me alone in that greatly furnished sitting-room. Then I saw her bringing some of the tea-things, a servant following her with the rest.

"Excuse me for leaving you," she started, as I was looking at her; she was laying the table herself! Why was she doing that, I wondered, but the answer came exceedingly easily. "My best servant is truly sick, and so I must partly do the job, but that shouldn't bother you, should it?"

Then I was at last asked why I came there. There was a little battle held inside me, as to whether tell her or not, but the latter option seemed evidently better.

"I was just looking for a friendly face, you know," I uttered, watching her pour the tea and receiving then the cup. "I do not get many visitors; but you must know that. I have been so lonely these days!"

"You can always come here, if you wish, Miss Gloom; do tell me, have you seen Miss Modesty recently?"

"Yes, a couple of days ago, but I guess you were there too." Then looking back at that day, I assured her, "yes, well, you brought me there!"

"Did I? Oh, yes, I wanted to show you Mr Hope's park; but I do not really know why I was there, since Miss Modesty was the only invited. You know why, of course. But why should it matter if there are three young ladies instead of one only?"

For this I liked Miss Fellow, always very talkative, with a wide range of knowledge, from winter clothing to marriages in the county. I could always get something from her - but nothing was of the same importance all of the time. And yes, I could escape loneliness and still sink in my thoughts whenever she talked.

"And another gentleman has been seen lately; no one knows him, except of course Miss Modesty. She knows everything she could know!", she continued, not noticing that I, suddenly, felt an interest for this stranger and my figure brightened. "But why she should not tell me about him, I can't understand."

"In this case you must gather information, and immediately! Have you seen him?"

"Yes, once; but only from the back. But Miss Modesty should give you further details. But where is she?!"

"We should call on her, shouldn't we?"

3.Selfish

I cannot relate to his feelings, as I have never known them. But as to mine, I am confident that no detail shall be spared from these monstrous, thirsty eyes.

Several nights were then appeased by his shadow. I could not close my eyes without seeing that blackness which reminded me of his gaze. Though his eyes were unknown to me, I was sure there was darkness in them. Every time I tried to capture a detail of the sky, the shades of a petal or the position of a rose bush, I failed, returning to the memory of his defeat. It wasn't yet that hard to get back and again play the role I was so fond of, and that of the perfect, mysterious Miss Gloom, who would never fake without a reason, who would never disappear without a serious matter behind.

An invitation from Miss Modesty drew my attention a few mornings later, as I was strolling before breakfast, to a small gathering that evening, only four or five persons to come; very pleasing people, thought with high expectations. Nevertheless, had I refused to come, it would have been pointless; Miss Fellow would always be there to force me to go. I used to say I should keep that in mind, but no sooner had I forgotten about the event, than that silly friend of mine came with reasons enough to leave me powerless.

Therefore, I went. There appeared to be more than five persons invited; thirty I think there were at least. And little was my surprise when finding that he had been invited as well. Still less was it when I figured out that he was ignoring me. Unless I remarked how fine his garments were, he would not utter a word in my presence, or in my direction.

Very amusing, and a great study I was to him, to be sure!

But Miss Modesty always welcomed his compliments with smiles; he looked in her eyes as if wanting to express how the depth of her hazel, understanding gaze made him love her with every second passed.

"Truly disagreeable, I cannot believe what I see! Of course, it is known that one loves what one doesn't see in the mirror; their pairs of eyes are of the same colour, and the hair is not very different." And turning to a mirror nearby, with an unbelievable pride, continued thinking, "while I have copper-red hair, which is, of course, much more attractive than hers, and those blue eyes, so rare nowadays; a combination that no man, ignorant or not, should pass by without being struck! How unfair love is," I continued, noticing very little of my selfishness. "And that she should have all of his attention, with so plain a face, and manners so artful! Miss Modesty, your name hardly does you justice!"

I continued my monologue while heading outdoors to breathe unspoiled air - "and that she should have clothing so fashionable, and so many friends, but I know, deep, in here," dramatically touching my heart, "that my friends, though not many, are very loyal."

Having second thoughts, in this real solitude, in the dark of the night, I whispered, disappointed, "yes, my loyal friends are few, and even so, they are not even real. They are my mind's result, but even so, it is better than loneliness," not even wondering why I was the only being that stood outside, in the night's bitter cold.

At last, I returned indoors, but what was I seeing? The dancing had begun; no 'gentleman' had been sent to let me know this, since I was regrettably known for hating dancing. Therefore, I could not but watch how others were enjoying their hilarious hopping. But my dear friend, whose name I did not know, was sitting aside, looking at someone dancing. No doubt that he was watching Miss Modesty's exquisite movements, but I used this occasion to trouble him with some questions.

"What happened to your hair, may I ask?", I began very subtly.

"It's been raining, don't you know?", he said, making a great effort to move his eyes from his love to my poor self.

"I see."

This was one of my flaws. Flaw number one, I will name it. My conversations are based on long-before thought ideas and plans; whenever one of them skips a step of my schedule, I literally crash. Yes, upon the floor.

But this was little of an exception. As the atmosphere was too heavy, there was no room for me to pass out, therefore I moved my gaze on Miss Modesty's dancing. Then, in an impossible calm tone, I continued:

"But how come you are not dancing, sir?", I finally asked him; I was so proud of myself, that I could not understand.

"Not very fond of it. But I have seen you trying to amuse yourself, you do not possess the great gift of enjoying time."

"And I guess it took you a lot of precious time to form this opinion?"

"You simply do not have it."

"How disagreeable!", I shouted inside myself.

He returned with his look to Miss Modesty. I returned to my seat, beside Miss Fellow.

The evening, well, proved itself a waste of time. I was relieved to see myself back in my welcoming dungeon that was my home.

2.Opportunity

"How strange she is at times, isn't she?" Miss Fellow immediately inquired her companion; "and how composed she was when we asked her about him; how she was sipping her tea - no one could have said that she was affected by his coming, how she looked at us, smiling, and what a smile she has! With her bright blue eyes, you cannot say whether she is malicious or well-intentioned, but why are you so silent, dear?"

Miss Modesty was gazing upon the horizons, deep in thought. "Uh, I can't tell, Miss Gloom has always proved herself good and well-bred; she is just strange now and then, I guess."

This reply did not please Miss Fellow, as something in her friend was altered. "Why are you so distant now?"

"Maybe the weather is to blame," she said turning her face away from her.

"Speaking of which, why did she say that she's the only to blame? I have no clue, what do you think, Miss Modesty?"

"Clueless, yes..."

As they were walking towards home, I was walking towards the answer of his existence. He was standing before me, timidly holding his hat; and as I was imagining this, I saw a sparkle in his eyes. He had his weakness, I had mine; mine was exposed, I didn't know his. I had to find it. What if I found it before he found mine? Yes, I couldn't be more confident! He existed so as to be flawed, and his flaws existed so as to be revealed to me. I laughingly repeated this thought over and over again; until a knock startled my nerves and made me lose everything I was reflecting upon. The valet came in, announcing someone's wish to see me.

"He would give no name, Miss. Shall I bring him to you?"

I leaned on the chimney, my arms crossed. An opportunity smiled in my direction. "Tell him to come," I answered.

As soon as I heard his footsteps on the corridor, I placed a smile on my face. "He must see how happy I can possibly be, even if my happiness is not entirely true."

But I could not help my eyes - they widened as they watched him walk confidently the floor which I was proud to call mine. "Miss Gloom, I believe, is very eager to see me, is she not?"

His impertinence disarmed my confidence, but the last remain of my dignity uttered:

"I do not recall having called you; you were brought here with a reason unknown to me; please reveal it, as I believe you need to tell me something."

"No, I just consider you a great study, that is all that made me come here." But as he said this, nothing made me believe him; his eyes weren't credible, his tone was false, he could not be that bothered to be around me.

"Then I shall bid you farewell, I cannot trust you. John shall help you out." And as I rang the bell, he turned away and left the room, leaving me breathless.

1.Justice

"But I know the difference between myself and my reflection; I just cannot help wondering, which of us do you love?", I laid down on the paper that was placed before me. I was expected to draw on it rather than write peculiar words that probably made no sense. Alas, I had done this and could not erase it.

"Neither of you," a voice answered my strange inquiry; he was leaning almost touching my shoulder. What on earth was he doing there?, I immediately asked myself. He laughed then - noticing my puzzled look - and said no more. But there he remained, expecting something I could not reach. I finally answered - I wish I had not.

"I was of course referring to a sentiment of rejection towards one's self; the difference as pointed here by no means explains itself in someone's look in a mirror and how it differs from reality. One's soul reflected in one's doing -"

"Yes, yes, quite interesting," he interrupted me yawning, " I should leave you now, I bid you good-bye, Miss."

I watched him as he walked away, but then, as I was feeling that justice had not been done, I loudly exclaimed, "Miss Gloom," and said nothing further.

What was this stranger doing at that time of the year, occupying so important a place in my mind? This never-before-seen wanderer struck me by his flawless intrusion in my thoughts, and how he imagined that he knew me. Ignorant, I remember he seemed at first. Another victim of my head he was in fact.

I walked away myself soon after the incident. I was frowning, but strangely, I knew it and was quite enjoying it. As if he could see me! How oddly I was complaining within myself for being so unaware - having put on the whitest dress I had, having gone in the central portion of the yard - my world, drawn by me - not being conscious of my exposure. And that stranger, coming of course attracted by my white clothing, thinking I was a fairy placed by an unknown hand, seeing my occupation - of course, he had reasons enough to be there.

Had I reasons enough to be there, and not somewhere else? I was desperately looking for someone's attention; it was all I was longing to have, a little seat in the front row, so I could watch the play without being accused of participating. And then, someone's attention would have been a shield between others and me, with someone's being caught inside it. Inappropriate, Miss, so inappropriate!

Had I not fulfilled my task? Had I not trapped someone at last? How different my imaginary fairytale had seemed at night, while crushing my heart in solitude! How different it was then, after having encountered him!

Arriving in the sitting room, I noticed that Miss Modesty and Miss Fellow had come before me and had been waiting for my return. How unaware they were!

"Dear me, how you have changed this last month, Miss Gloom! Why, the tea things must be brought immediately!" Miss Modesty, with her fine, well-chosen words, made me wonder if she was suffering at all, past or present.

"Why are your eyes wandering around?", Miss Fellow said. She was a nice young woman. Very lovely at times, very insupportable at others. "Come, you must sit with us."

But what was I doing?! I was of course the host and had to pour the tea, serve the biscuits and call for the bread; oh, how distant I was, I am sure, they must have noticed that!

"Do help yourself, I beg, to these fresh biscuits - I am very fond of them -"

"Miss Gloom, you must excuse me if I prove wrong, but why are you always in so bad a mood? You do not get too many guests, I suppose!", Miss Fellow said.

"And no one can help thinking that you are hiding a secret or such, forgive me!" the other cried - she was so affected! I felt a heartbreaking need to pour the tea remains right upon her curled head. How nice of me it would have been!

"There are no secrets of the kind - I am known for my necessity to retire at times," I replied, piercing her with my eyes, "so there isn't much to be done."

"But what will he say," Miss Fellow entered the conversation, "the man you were talking to in the yard?"

"I do not know what you are insinuating, Miss Fellow; I assure you both that my relations to that man are by no means more than of two strangers'."

"He was standing so close to you, I saw it, upon my word!"

The anger was literally boiling, just like the tea in my cup. The sensation these two had caused was positively odious, because, as the liquid was burning my tongue, its taste was outstanding.

"Why should I blame you," I at last said, charmingly calm, "when I can place the blame entirely on myself?"