and drop these painful subjects." Painful subjects! He said it, I assure you.
"No," I said, sadly. I would not make myself cheap. He did not want me, I felt sure. I must try another policy.
"What are you going to do to pass away the morning?"
"Oh, I have a wealth of amusement," I said, smiling through my tears. "Do—do not trouble any more about me. You probably have some w-writing to do. Do not let me disturb you. Good-bye," and I ran away to my room.
Yes, I must try another policy. Perhaps I was letting him see too plainly that his neglect caused me pain. It might be that, like some men of whom I have since heard, hf disliked to know that a woman was running after him. If I treated him as he treated me, perhaps I might teach him a little respect. Men do not like weak, clinging beings—at least some of them don't, and perhaps my husband belonged to that class. At any rate I would change my policy. Why do I say "change my policy?" I had none before. I was simply acting as my heart told me to act.
