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alone,

remember.

You were

nothing to

me once,

and I was

contented;

you are

now

nothing to

me again,

and how

different

the second

nothing is

from the

first!

Would to

God you

had never

taken me

up, since

it was

only to

throw me

down!”

Bathsheba,

in spite

of her

mettle,

began to

feel

un-mistakable

signs that

she was

inherently

the weaker

vessel.

She strove

miserably

against

this

feminity

which

would

insist

upon

supplying

unbidden

emotions