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 until a labyrinth of wonder and perplexity opened before her as she began to comprehend the complicated net-work of desire and aspiration, passion and sentiment, and other diverse agencies through which the human soul works out the great problem of its existence and destiny.

Developing too suddenly for a healthful activity of the brain, which gave her power, but not a harmonious character, she displayed many eccentricities that stood in the way of gaining the friendship the social element of her nature coveted now, though undeveloped before. The diffidence early ingrafted by the surrounding influences of her childhood had not worn off, seldom venturing beyond a monosyllable in reply to any remark addressed to her, which made her quite an object of curiosity to Walter, who could not imagine how it was possible for any one to live in this bustling world without manifesting some degree of animation, and wondered whether she could be thinking at all or whether her mind was a vacuum. He would have been astonished to know what was going on there. Though apparently so timid and quiescent, underneath the seeming dulness existed an energy of thought, and a determination of purpose not to be resisted or overcome. One accustomed to study human nature, could read this in the knitting of the brow, and the compression of the lips as she sat earnestly plying her needle on this December afternoon. Little given to conversation generally, she was now resolutely mute, wishing no one to speak to her, and replying briefly as possible to any question. Too many unpleasant memories flitted through