He forgets things; and is always thinking, thinking, thinking of his great misfortunes.

Poor papa! My heart bleeds so when I remember all his sorrows, that I hate myself for thinking about myself.
When mamma left me,--and it was then I first knew that papa would really have to be tried,--I went to Miss Annabella, and told her that I would go home.

She asked me why, and I said I would not disgrace her house by staying in it.

She got up and took me in her arms, and there came a tear out of both her dear old eyes, and she said that if anything evil came to papa,--which she would not believe, as she knew him to be a good man,--there should be a home in her house not only for me, but for mamma and Jane.

Isn't she a wonderful woman?
When I think of her, I sometimes think that she must be an angel already.
Then she became very serious,--for just before, through her tears, she had tried to smile,--and she told me to remember that all people could not be like her, who had nobody to look to but herself and her sister; and that at present I must task myself not to think of that which I had been thinking of before.