He said there could be no objection.

He opened it at the page devoted to myself, and I flew a little higher, and looked down over his shoulder.

I can hardly believe it, even now--that I could have dreamt anything so foolish: He had got it all down wrong! Instead of to the credit side of my account he had put the whole bag of tricks to my debit.

He had mixed them up with my sins--with my acts of hypocrisy, vanity, self-indulgence.

Under the head of Charity he had but one item to my credit for the past six months: my giving up my seat inside a tramcar, late one wet night, to a dismal-looking old woman, who had not had even the politeness to say "thank you," she seemed just half asleep.