DAILY, as I continued my attendance at the seminary of Mdlle.Reuter, did I find fresh occasions to compare the ideal with thereal. What had I known of female character previously to myarrival at Brussels? Precious little. And what was my notion ofit? Something vague, slight, gauzy, glittering; now when I camein contact with it I found it to be a palpable substance enough;very hard too sometimes, and often heavy; there was metal in it,both lead and iron.

Let the idealists, the dreamers about earthly angel and humanflowers, just look here while I open my portfolio and show them asketch or two, pencilled after nature. I took these sketches inthe second-class schoolroom of Mdlle. Reuter's establishment,where about a hundred specimens of the genus "jeune fille"collected together, offered a fertile variety of subject. Amiscellaneous assortment they were, differing both in caste andcountry; as I sat on my estrade and glanced over the long rangeof desks, I had under my eye French, English, Belgians,Austrians, and Prussians. The majority belonged to the classbourgeois; but there were many countesses, there were thedaughters of two generals and of several colonels, captains, andgovernment EMPLOYES; these ladies sat side by side with youngfemales destined to be demoiselles de magasins, and with someFlamandes, genuine aborigines of the country. In dress all werenearly similar, and in manners there was small difference;exceptions there were to the general rule, but the majority gavethe tone to the establishment, and that tone was rough,boisterous, masked by a point-blank disregard of all forbearancetowards each other or their teachers; an eager pursuit by eachindividual of her own interest and convenience; and a coarseindifference to the interest and convenience of every one else.Most of them could lie with audacity when it appearedadvantageous to do so. All understood the art of speaking fairwhen a point was to be gained, and could with consummate skilland at a moment's notice turn the cold shoulder the instantcivility ceased to be profitable. Very little open quarrellingever took place amongst them; but backbiting and talebearing wereuniversal. Close friendships were forbidden by the rules of theschool, and no one girl seemed to cultivate more regard foranother than was just necessary to secure a companion whensolitude would have been irksome. They were each and allsupposed to have been reared in utter unconsciousness of vice.The precautions used to keep them ignorant, if not innocent, wereinnumerable. How was it, then, that scarcely one of those girlshaving attained the age of fourteen could look a man in the facewith modesty and propriety? An air of bold, impudent flirtation,or a loose, silly leer, was sure to answer the most ordinaryglance from a masculine eye. I know nothing of the arcana of theRoman Catholic religion, and I am not a bigot in matters oftheology, but I suspect the root of this precocious impurity, soobvious, so general in Popish countries, is to be found in thediscipline, if not the doctrines of the Church of Rome. I recordwhat I have seen: these girls belonged to what are called therespectable ranks of society; they had all been carefully broughtup, yet was the mass of them mentally depraved. So much for thegeneral view: now for one or two selected specimens.

The first picture is a full length of Aurelia Koslow, a Germanfraulein, or rather a half-breed between German and Russian. Sheis eighteen years of age, and has been sent to Brussels to finishher education; she is of middle size, stiffly made, body long,legs short, bust much developed but not compactly moulded, waistdisproportionately compressed by an inhumanly braced corset,dress carefully arranged, large feet tortured into smallbottines, head small, hair smoothed, braided, oiled, and gummedto perfection; very low forehead, very diminutive and vindictivegrey eyes, somewhat Tartar features, rather flat nose, ratherhigh-cheek bones, yet the ensemble not positively ugly; tolerablygood complexion. So much for person. As to mind, deplorablyignorant and ill-informed: incapable of writing or speakingcorrectly even German, her native tongue, a dunce in French, andher attempts at learning English a mere farce, yet she has beenat school twelve years; but as she invariably gets her exercises,of every description, done by a fellow pupil, and reads herlessons off a book; concealed in her lap, it is not wonderfulthat her progress has been so snail-like. I do not know whatAurelia's daily habits of life are, because I have not theopportunity of observing her at all times; but from what I see ofthe state of her desk, books, and papers, I should say she isslovenly and even dirty; her outward dress, as I have said, iswell attended to, but in passing behind her bench, I haveremarked that her neck is gray for want of washing, and her hair,so glossy with gum and grease, is not such as one feels temptedto pass the hand over, much less to run the fingers through.Aurelia's conduct in class, at least when I am present, issomething extraordinary, considered as an index of girlishinnocence. The moment I enter the room, she nudges her nextneighbour and indulges in a half-suppressed laugh. As I take myseat on the estrade, she fixes her eye on me; she seems resolvedto attract, and, if possible, monopolize my notice: to this endshe launches at me all sorts of looks, languishing, provoking,leering, laughing. As I am found quite proof against this sortof artillery--for we scorn what, unasked, is lavishly offered--she has recourse to the expedient of making noises; sometimesshe sighs, sometimes groans, sometimes utters inarticulatesounds, for which language has no name. If, in walking up theschoolroom, I pass near her, she puts out her foot that it maytouch mine; if I do not happen to observe the manoeuvre, and myboot comes in contact with her brodequin, she affects to fallinto convulsions of suppressed laughter; if I notice the snareand avoid it, she expresses her mortification in sullenmuttering, where I hear myself abused in bad French, pronouncedwith an intolerable Low German accent.

Not far from Mdlle. Koslow sits another young lady by name AdeleDronsart: this is a Belgian, rather low of stature, in formheavy, with broad waist, short neck and limbs, good red and whitecomplexion, features well chiselled and regular, well-cut eyes ofa clear brown colour, light brown hair, good teeth, age not muchabove fifteen, but as full-grown as a stout young Englishwoman oftwenty. This portrait gives the idea of a somewhat dumpy butgood-looking damsel, does it not? Well, when I looked along therow of young heads, my eye generally stopped at this of Adele's;her gaze was ever waiting for mine, and it frequently succeededin arresting it. She was an unnatural-looking being--so young,fresh, blooming, yet so Gorgon-like. Suspicion, sullenill-temper were on her forehead, vicious propensities in her eye,envy and panther-like deceit about her mouth. In general she satvery still; her massive shape looked as if it could not bendmuch, nor did her large head--so broad at the base, so narrowtowards the top--seem made to turn readily on her short neck.She had but two varieties of expression; the prevalent one aforbidding, dissatisfied scowl, varied sometimes by a mostpernicious and perfidious smile. She was shunned by herfellow-pupils, for, bad as many of them were, few were as bad asshe.

Aurelia and Adele were in the first division of the second class;the second division was headed by a pensionnaire named JuannaTrista. This girl was of mixed Belgian and Spanish origin; herFlemish mother was dead, her Catalonian father was a merchantresiding in the ---- Isles, where Juanna had been born and whenceshe was sent to Europe to be educated. I wonder that any one,looking at that girl's head and countenance, would have receivedher under their roof. She had precisely the same shape of skullas Pope Alexander the Sixth; her organs of benevolence,veneration, conscientiousness, adhesiveness, were singularlysmall, those of self-esteem, firmness, destructiveness,combativeness, preposterously large; her head sloped up in thepenthouse shape, was contracted about the forehead, and prominentbehind; she had rather good, though large and marked features;her temperament was fibrous and bilious, her complexion pale anddark, hair and eyes black, form angular and rigid butproportionate, age fifteen.

Juanna was not very thin, but she had a gaunt visage, and her"regard" was fierce and hungry; narrow as was her brow, itpresented space enough for the legible graving of two words,Mutiny and Hate; in some one of her other lineaments I think theeye--cowardice had also its distinct cipher. Mdlle. Tristathought fit to trouble my first lessons with a coarse work-daysort of turbulence; she made noises with her mouth like a horse,she ejected her saliva, she uttered brutal expressions; behindand below her were seated a band of very vulgar, inferior-lookingFlamandes, including two or three examples of that deformity ofperson and imbecility of intellect whose frequency in the LowCountries would seem to furnish proof that the climate is such asto induce degeneracy of the human mind and body; these, I soonfound, were completely under her influence, and with their aidshe got up and sustained a swinish tumult, which I wasconstrained at last to quell by ordering her and two of her toolsto rise from their seats, and, having kept them standing fiveminutes, turning them bodily out of the schoolroom: theaccomplices into a large place adjoining called the grands salle;the principal into a cabinet, of which I closed the door andpocketed the key. This judgment I executed in the presence ofMdlle. Reuter, who looked much aghast at beholding so decided aproceeding--the most severe that had ever been ventured on in herestablishment. Her look of affright I answered with one ofcomposure, and finally with a smile, which perhaps flattered, andcertainly soothed her. Juanna Trista remained in Europe longenough to repay, by malevolence and ingratitude, all who had everdone her a good turn; and she then went to join her father in the---- Isles, exulting in the thought that she should there haveslaves, whom, as she said, she could kick and strike at will.

These three pictures are from the life. I possess others, asmarked and as little agreeable, but I will spare my reader theexhibition of them.

Doubtless it will be thought that I ought now, by way ofcontrast, to show something charming; some gentle virgin head,circled with a halo, some sweet personification of innocence,clasping the dove of peace to her bosom. No: I saw nothing ofthe sort, and therefore cannot portray it. The pupil in theschool possessing the happiest disposition was a young girl fromthe country, Louise Path; she was sufficiently benevolent andobliging, but not well taught nor well mannered; moreover, theplague-spot of dissimulation was in her also; honour andprinciple were unknown to her, she had scarcely heard theirnames. The least exceptionable pupil was the poor little SylvieI have mentioned once before. Sylvie was gentle in manners,intelligent in mind; she was even sincere, as far as her religionwould permit her to be so, but her physical organization wasdefective; weak health stunted her growth and chilled herspirits, and then, destined as she was for the cloister, herwhole soul was warped to a conventual bias, and in the tame,trained subjection of her manner, one read that she had alreadyprepared herself for her future course of life, by giving up herindependence of thought and action into the hands of somedespotic confessor. She permitted herself no original opinion,no preference of companion or employment; in everything she wasguided by another. With a pale, passive, automaton air, she wentabout all day long doing what she was bid; never what she liked,or what, from innate conviction, she thought it right to do. Thepoor little future religieuse had been early taught to make thedictates of her own reason and conscience quite subordinate tothe will of her spiritual director. She was the model pupil ofMdlle. Reuter's establishment; pale, blighted image, where lifelingered feebly, but whence the soul had been conjured by Romishwizard-craft!

A few English pupils there were in this school, and these mightbe divided into two classes. 1st. The continental English--thedaughters chiefly of broken adventurers, whom debt or dishonourhad driven from their own country. These poor girls had neverknown the advantages of settled homes, decorous example, orhonest Protestant education; resident a few months now in oneCatholic school, now in another, as their parents wandered fromland to land--from France to Germany, from Germany to Belgium--they had picked up some scanty instruction, many bad habits,losing every notion even of the first elements of religion andmorals, and acquiring an imbecile indifference to every sentimentthat can elevate humanity; they were distinguishable by anhabitual look of sullen dejection, the result of crushedself-respect and constant browbeating from their Popishfellow-pupils, who hated them as English, and scorned them asheretics.

The second class were British English. Of these I did notencounter half a dozen during the whole time of my attendance atthe seminary; their characteristics were clean but carelessdress, ill-arranged hair (compared with the tight and trimforeigners), erect carriage, flexible figures, white and taperhands, features more irregular, but also more intellectual thanthose of the Belgians, grave and modest countenances, a generalair of native propriety and decency; by this last circumstancealone I could at a glance distinguish the daughter of Albion andnursling of Protestantism from the foster-child of Rome, thePROTEGEE of Jesuistry: proud, too, was the aspect of theseBritish girls; at once envied and ridiculed by their continentalassociates, they warded off insult with austere civility, and methate with mute disdain; they eschewed company-keeping, and in themidst of numbers seemed to dwell isolated.

The teachers presiding over this mixed multitude were three innumber, all French--their names Mdlles. Zephyrine, Pelagie, andSuzette; the two last were commonplace personages enough; theirlook was ordinary, their manner was ordinary, their temper wasordinary, their thoughts, feelings, and views were all ordinary--were I to write a chapter on the subject I could not elucidateit further. Zephyrine was somewhat more distinguished inappearance and deportment than Pelagie and Suzette, but incharacter genuine Parisian coquette, perfidious, mercenary, anddry-hearted. A fourth maitresse I sometimes saw who seemed tocome daily to teach needlework, or netting, or lace-mending, orsome such flimsy art; but of her I never had more than a passingglimpse, as she sat in the CARRE, with her frames and some dozenof the elder pupils about her, consequently I had no opportunityof studying her character, or even of observing her person much;the latter, I remarked, had a very English air for a maitresse,otherwise it was not striking; of character I should think; shepossessed but little, as her pupils seemed constantly "enrevolte" against her authority. She did not reside in the house;her name, I think, was Mdlle. Henri.

Amidst this assemblage of all that was insignificant anddefective, much that was vicious and repulsive (by that lastepithet many would have described the two or three stiff, silent,decently behaved, ill-dressed British girls), the sensible,sagacious, affable directress shone like a steady star over amarsh full of Jack-o'-lanthorns; profoundly aware of hersuperiority, she derived an inward bliss from that consciousnesswhich sustained her under all the care and responsibilityinseparable from her position; it kept her temper calm, her browsmooth, her manner tranquil. She liked--as who would not?--onentering the school-room, to feel that her sole presence sufficedto diffuse that order and quiet which all the remonstrances, andeven commands, of her underlings frequently failed to enforce;she liked to stand in comparison, or rather--contrast, with thosewho surrounded her, and to know that in personal as well asmental advantages, she bore away the undisputed palm ofpreference--(the three teachers were all plain.) Her pupils shemanaged with such indulgence and address, taking always onherself the office of recompenser and eulogist, and abandoning toher subalterns every invidious task of blame and punishment, thatthey all regarded her with deference, if not with affection; herteachers did not love her, but they submitted because they wereher inferiors in everything; the various masters who attended herschool were each and all in some way or other under herinfluence; over one she had acquired power by her skilfulmanagement of his bad temper; over another by little attentionsto his petty caprices; a third she had subdued by flattery; afourth--a timid man--she kept in awe by a sort of austeredecision of mien; me, she still watched, still tried by the mostingenious tests--she roved round me, baffled, yet persevering; Ibelieve she thought I was like a smooth and bare precipice, whichoffered neither jutting stone nor tree-root, nor tuft of grass toaid the climber. Now she flattered with exquisite tact, now shemoralized, now she tried how far I was accessible to mercenarymotives, then she disported on the brink of affection--knowingthat some men are won by weakness--anon, she talked excellentsense, aware that others have the folly to admire judgment. Ifound it at once pleasant and easy to evade all these efforts; itwas sweet, when she thought me nearly won, to turn round and tosmile in her very eyes, half scornfully, and then to witness herscarcely veiled, though mute mortification. Still shepersevered, and at last, I am bound to confess it, her finger,essaying, proving every atom of the casket, touched its secretspring, and for a moment the lid sprung open; she laid her handon the jewel within; whether she stole and broke it, or whetherthe lid shut again with a snap on her fingers, read on, and youshall know.

It happened that I came one day to give a lesson when I wasindisposed; I had a bad cold and a cough; two hours' incessanttalking left me very hoarse and tired; as I quitted theschoolroom, and was passing along the corridor, I met Mdlle.Reuter; she remarked, with an anxious air, that I looked verypale and tired. "Yes," I said, "I was fatigued;" and then, withincreased interest, she rejoined, "You shall not go away till youhave had some refreshment." She persuaded me to step into theparlour, and was very kind and gentle while I stayed. The nextday she was kinder still; she came herself into the class to seethat the windows were closed, and that there was no draught; sheexhorted me with friendly earnestness not to over-exert myself;when I went away, she gave me her hand unasked, and I could notbut mark, by a respectful and gentle pressure, that I wassensible of the favour, and grateful for it. My modestdemonstration kindled a little merry smile on her countenance; Ithought her almost charming. During the remainder of theevening, my mind was full of impatience for the afternoon of thenext day to arrive, that I might see her again.

I was not disappointed, for she sat in the class during the wholeof my subsequent lesson, and often looked at me almost withaffection. At four o'clock she accompanied me out of theschoolroom, asking with solicitude after my health, then scoldingme sweetly because I spoke too loud and gave myself too muchtrouble; I stopped at the glass-door which led into the garden,to hear her lecture to the end; the door was open, it was a veryfine day, and while I listened to the soothing reprimand, Ilooked at the sunshine and flowers, and felt very happy. Theday-scholars began to pour from the schoolrooms into the passage.

"Will you go into the garden a minute or two," asked she, "tillthey are gone?"

I descended the steps without answering, but I looked back asmuch as to say--

"You will come with me?"

In another minute I and the directress were walking side by sidedown the alley bordered with fruit-trees, whose white blossomswere then in full blow as well as their tender green leaves. Thesky was blue, the air still, the May afternoon was full ofbrightness and fragrance. Released from the stifling class,surrounded with flowers and foliage, with a pleasing, smiling,affable woman at my side--how did I feel? Why, very enviably.It seemed as if the romantic visions my imagination had suggestedof this garden, while it was yet hidden from me by the jealousboards, were more than realized; and, when a turn in the alleyshut out the view of the house, and some tall shrubs excluded M.Pelet's mansion, and screened us momentarily from the otherhouses, rising amphitheatre-like round this green spot, I gave myarm to Mdlle. Reuter, and led her to a garden-chair, nestledunder some lilacs near. She sat down; I took my place at herside. She went on talking to me with that ease whichcommunicates ease, and, as I listened, a revelation dawned in mymind that I was on the brink of falling in love. The dinner-bellrang, both at her house and M. Pelet's; we were obliged to part;I detained her a moment as she was moving away.

"I want something," said I.

"What?" asked Zoraide naively.

"Only a flower."

"Gather it then--or two, or twenty, if you like."

"No--one will do-but you must gather it, and give it to me."

"What a caprice!" she exclaimed, but she raised herself on hertip-toes, and, plucking a beautiful branch of lilac, offered itto me with grace. I took it, and went away, satisfied for thepresent, and hopeful for the future.

Certainly that May day was a lovely one, and it closed inmoonlight night of summer warmth and serenity. I remember thiswell; for, having sat up late that evening, correcting devoirs,and feeling weary and a little oppressed with the closeness of mysmall room, I opened the often-mentioned boarded window, whoseboards, however, I had persuaded old Madame Pelet to have removedsince I had filled the post of professor in the pensionnat dedemoiselles, as, from that time, it was no longer "inconvenient"for me to overlook my own pupils at their sports. I sat down inthe window-seat, rested my arm on the sill, and leaned out:above me was the clear-obscure of a cloudless night sky--splendid moonlight subdued the tremulous sparkle of the stars--below lay the garden, varied with silvery lustre and deepshade, and all fresh with dew--a grateful perfume exhaled fromthe closed blossoms of the fruit-trees--not a leaf stirred, thenight was breezeless. My window looked directly down upon acertain walk of Mdlle. Reuter's garden, called "l'alleedefendue," so named because the pupils were forbidden to enter iton account of its proximity to the boys' school. It was herethat the lilacs and laburnums grew especially thick; this was themost sheltered nook in the enclosure, its shrubs screened thegarden-chair where that afternoon I had sat with the youngdirectress. I need not say that my thoughts were chiefly with heras I leaned from the lattice, and let my; eye roam, now over thewalks and borders of the garden, now along the many-windowedfront of the house which rose white beyond the masses of foliage.I wondered in what part of the building was situated herapartment; and a single light, shining through the persiennes ofone croisee, seemed to direct me to it.

"She watches late," thought I, "for it must be now near midnight.She is a fascinating little woman," I continued in voicelesssoliloquy; "her image forms a pleasant picture in memory; I knowshe is not what the world calls pretty--no matter, there isharmony in her aspect, and I like it; her brown hair, her blueeye, the freshness of her cheek, the whiteness of her neck, allsuit my taste. Then I respect her talent; the idea of marrying adoll or a fool was always abhorrent to me: I know that a prettydoll, a fair fool, might do well enough for the honeymoon; butwhen passion cooled, how dreadful to find a lump of wax and woodlaid in my bosom, a half idiot clasped in my arms, and toremember that I had made of this my equal--nay, my idol--to knowthat I must pass the rest of my dreary life with a creatureincapable of understanding what I said, of appreciating what Ithought, or of sympathizing with what I felt! "Now, ZoraideReuter," thought I, "has tact, CARACTERE, judgment, discretion;has she heart? What a good, simple little smile played about herlips when she gave me the branch of lilacs! I have thought hercrafty, dissembling, interested sometimes, it is true; but maynot much that looks like cunning and dissimulation in her conductbe only the efforts made by a bland temper to traverse quietlyperplexing difficulties? And as to interest, she wishes to makeher way in the world, no doubt, and who can blame her? Even ifshe be truly deficient in sound principle, is it not rather hermisfortune than her fault? She has been brought up a Catholic:had she been born an Englishwoman, and reared a Protestant, mightshe not have added straight integrity to all her otherexcellences? Supposing she were to marry an English andProtestant husband, would she not, rational, sensible as she is,quickly acknowledge the superiority of right over expediency,honesty over policy? It would be worth a man's while to try theexperiment; to-morrow I will renew my observations. She knowsthat I watch her: how calm she is under scrutiny! it seems ratherto gratify than annoy her." Here a strain of music stole in uponmy monologue, and suspended it; it was a bugle, very skilfullyplayed, in the neighbourhood of the park, I thought, or on thePlace Royale. So sweet were the tones, so subduing their effectat that hour, in the midst of silence and under the quiet reignof moonlight, I ceased to think, that I might listen moreintently. The strain retreated, its sound waxed fainter and wassoon gone; my ear prepared to repose on the absolute hush ofmidnight once more. No. What murmur was that which, low, andyet near and approaching nearer, frustrated the expectation oftotal silence? It was some one conversing--yes, evidently, anaudible, though subdued voice spoke in the garden immediatelybelow me. Another answered; the first voice was that of a man,the second that of a woman; and a man and a woman I saw comingslowly down the alley. Their forms were at first in shade, Icould but discern a dusk outline of each, but a ray of moonlightmet them at the termination of the walk, when they were under myvery nose, and revealed very plainly, very unequivocally, Mdlle.Zoraide Reuter, arm-in-arm, or hand-in-hand (I forget which) withmy principal, confidant, and counsellor, M. Francois Pelet. AndM. Pelet was saying--

"A quand donc le jour des noces, ma bien-aimee?"

And Mdlle. Reuter answered--

"Mais, Francois, tu sais bien qu'il me serait impossible de memarier avant les vacances."

"June, July, August, a whole quarter!" exclaimed the director."How can I wait so long?--I who am ready, even now, to expire atyour feet with impatience!"

"Ah! if you die, the whole affair will be settled without anytrouble about notaries and contracts; I shall only have to ordera slight mourning dress, which will be much sooner prepared thanthe nuptial trousseau."

"Cruel Zoraide! you laugh at the distress of one who loves you sodevotedly as I do: my torment is your sport; you scruple not tostretch my soul on the rack of jealousy; for, deny it as youwill, I am certain you have cast encouraging glances on thatschool-boy, Crimsworth; he has presumed to fall in love, which hedared not have done unless you had given him room to hope."

"What do you say, Francois? Do you say Crimsworth is in lovewith me?"

"Over head and ears."

"Has he told you so?"

"No--but I see it in his face: he blushes whenever your name ismentioned." A little laugh of exulting coquetry announced Mdlle.Reuter's gratification at this piece of intelligence (which was alie, by-the-by--I had never been so far gone as that, after all).M. Pelet proceeded to ask what she intended to do with me,intimating pretty plainly, and not very gallantly, that it wasnonsense for her to think of taking such a "blanc-bec" as ahusband, since she must be at least ten years older than I (wasshe then thirty-two? I should not have thought it). I heard herdisclaim any intentions on the subject--the director, however,still pressed her to give a definite answer.

"Francois," said she, "you are jealous," and still she laughed;then, as if suddenly recollecting that this coquetry was notconsistent with the character for modest dignity she wished toestablish, she proceeded, in a demure voice: "Truly, my dearFrancois, I will not deny that this young Englishman may havemade some attempts to ingratiate himself with me; but, so farfrom giving him any encouragement, I have always treated himwith as much reserve as it was possible to combine with civility;affianced as I am to you, I would give no man false hopes;believe me, dear friend." Still Pelet uttered murmurs ofdistrust--so I judged, at least, from her reply.

"What folly! How could I prefer an unknown foreigner to you?And then--not to flatter your vanity--Crimsworth could not bearcomparison with you either physically or mentally; he is not ahandsome man at all; some may call him gentleman-like andintelligent-looking, but for my part--"

The rest of the sentence was lost in the distance, as the pair,rising from the chair in which they had been seated, moved away.I waited their return, but soon the opening and shutting of adoor informed me that they had re-entered the house; I listeneda little longer, all was perfectly still; I listened more than anhour--at last I heard M. Pelet come in and ascend to his chamber.Glancing once more towards the long front of the garden-house, Iperceived that its solitary light was at length extinguished; so,for a time, was my faith is love and friendship. I went to bed,but something feverish and fiery had got into my veins whichprevented me from sleeping much that night.