isery, that crept so slow, and was so much a part of the habits of the house—like the colour of the walls, the smell of the dinners, the sound of weeping and shrieks—I did not know it had gained upon me, until too late. I still said, to everyone who spoke to me, that I was quite in my right mind—that I was there, through a mistake— that I was not Maud Rivers, and must be let out at once. But I said it so often, the words grew soft—like coins losing their faces through being too much spent. One day at last, I walked with a lady in the garden and said it again; and the lady looked at me in pity.
''I thought the same thing, once,'' she said kindly. ''But you see, I''m afraid you must be mad, since you are here. There is something queer about us all. You need only look about you. You need only look at yourself.''
She smiled—but, as before, she smiled in a kind of pity; then she walked on. I stopped, however. I had not thought, I could not say in how long, of how I must look, to others. Dr Christie kept no looking-glasses, for fear they should get smashed, and it seemed to me now that the last time I had gazed at my own face was at Mrs Cream''s—was it at Mrs Cream''s?—when Maud had made me put on her blue silk gown—was it blue? or had it been grey?—and held up the little mirror. I put my hands to my eyes. The gown was blue, I was certain of it. Why, I had been wearing it when they got me into the madhouse! They had taken it from me—and they had taken, too, Maud''s mother''s bag, and all the things that were in it—the brushes and combs, the linen, the red prunella slippers—I never saw those again. Instead— I looked down at myself, at the tartan dress and rubber boots. I had grown almost used to them. Now I saw them again for what they were; and wished I might see them better. The nurse who had been set to watch us was sitting with her eyes closed, dozing in the sun, but a little to the left of her was the window that looked into the drawing-room. It was dark, and showed the line of circling ladies, clear as a mirror. One of them had stopped, and had her hand at her face.—I blinked. She blinked. She was me.