He reflected much upon
the way in which he had neglected and despised his home affections,
while he had formed no ties of his own. Now, too, his career seemed to
him at an end, and he had nothing to look forward to but a maimed and
invalided life of solitude and failure. Many of his thoughts I could not
discern at all--the mist, so to speak, involved them--while many were
obscure to me. When he thought about scenes and people whom I had never
known, the thought loomed shapeless and dark; but when he thought, as he
often did, about his school and university days, and about his home
circle, all of which scenes were familiar to me, I could read his mind
with perfect clearness. At the bottom of all lay a sense of deep
disappointment and resentment. He doubted the justice of God, and blamed
himself but little for his miseries. It was a sad experience at first,
because he was falling day by day into more hopeless dejection; while he
refused the pathetic overtures of sympathy which the relations in whose
house he was--a married sister with her husband and children--offered
him. He bore himself with courtesy and consideration, but he was so much
worn with fatigue and despondency that he could not take any initiative.
Pages:
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150