DOLLY'S JOURNAL AGAIN
"CHRISTMAS EVE"
"AS I expected! Not one word more in my journal since that long prelim-statement! I don't know what in the world I have taken it out for now—only one must do something, and I have nothing to do. And I feel so restless and stupid."
"What a state of spirits I was in when I wrote last in this book!—all except the last few words. I'm not at all in spirits now. Everything seems dull, and I am prosy and tame."
"Life does seem awfully made up of disappointments, sometimes. I wasn't wrong there, at all events."
"For instance,—that afternoon at the Park, weeks and weeks ago,—how I had been looking forward, and counting the hours! Yet, when the time came, there was nothing but disappointment all through. Nothing happened as I had expected, though I suppose nobody was to blame. I've gone over, scores of times since, all that I said and did, and all that he said and did; and I never can make up my mind what was really wrong, or how things happened as they did, or whether I might have done differently."
"Only I wish—I wish—nobody would meddle and ask questions, and put ideas into one's head. Poor old Issy! She didn't mean any harm, of course; people never do! But if only she had just not interfered!"
"Well, it can't be helped now. It couldn't be helped then. Dear good stupid people, like Issy, do such a lot of harm, meddling and trying to give advice; and all the time it is meant so kindly, that I suppose one ought to be grateful. Only—"
"Anyhow, nobody was likely that day to accuse me of—of thinking too much about anybody in particular. I had plenty of Mervyn, and I don't care for him one atom; and Edred kept out of my way, and I only saw him once again for five minutes, before he went to Scotland, and then we were like two icicles."
"If only I didn't mind! If I could make myself not care! If I could be as cool and indifferent as he is! But it is hard sometimes, oh, so hard not to show! All the life seems to have gone out of everything. Tennis had grown so dull—I was glad when cold weather put a stop to it; and now, skating is a trouble. The only thing I really feel inclined to do is to curl myself up in the corner of the sofa, and—no, not think! That's the worst of giving in. It means more time for thinking."