110 Turnaside Cottage.

everybody. “And Tommy too!” I said to myself,
as I sat down in the lonely cottage—* Tommy,
whom I had brought to Master George, and told
him how good he had always been to me—has he
too forsaken me? It is all Master George—since
he came, everything has gone wrong.” And then,
horrified at my own bad feelings, I hid my face in
my hands, and prayed for a better temper.

I think, unless my self-love deceives me, that the
fact is that I was hungry for love, and the un-
satisfied craving made me peevish and out of
temper. After old Nance’s death, I made an
attempt to draw closer to my father, but he re-
pulsed me—not intentionally perhaps, for he may
not have understood what I wanted; but I felt
chilled and shut up. We saw less of one another
than ever, for my father was more and more in the
company of two or three men of no very good charac-
ter; and even so far back as during Nance’s illness,
he would often come in, not drunk, indeed, but
flushed with drink. After Nance’s death I con-
tinued to sleep in the house ; and when my father
asked me why I did so, I said that there was room
cnough, and it was less lonely now there were only
two of us. But he replied that he did not want to
be bothered with me both night and day, and bade
me return to the loft over the cow-house,