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ve been intended by God as a punishment for something he had done or left undone。 In those brooding tramps around and around the garden； his soul was on its knees searching the corners of his conscience for some sin of omission or commission； and one by one every pleasure； every recreation； every trifle scraped out of the dust of past experience； was magnified into a huge offence。 He thought that the smallest evidence of levity； the least unbending to human instinct； might be seized by those around him as evidence of inconsistency； and might lead the weaker brethren into offence。 The incident of the carpenters and the comic song is typical of a condition of mind which now possessed my Father； in which act after act became taboo； not because each was sinful in itself； but because it might lead others into sin。
I have the conviction that Miss Marks was now mightily afraid of my Father。 Whenever she could； she withdrew to the room she called her 'boudoir'； a small； chilly apartment； sparsely furnished； looking over what was in process of becoming the vegetable garden。 Very properly； that she might have some sanctuary； Miss Marks forbade me to enter this virginal bower； which； of course； became to me an object of harrowing curiosity。 Through the key…hole I could see practically nothing； one day I contrived to slip inside； and discovered that there was nothing to see but a plain bedstead and a toilet…table； void of all attraction。 In this 'boudoir'； on winter afternoons； a fire would be lighted； and Miss Marks would withdraw to it； not seen by us anymore between high…tea and the apocalyptic exercise known as 'worship' in less strenuous households much less austerely practised under the name of 'family prayers'。 Left meanwhile to our own devices； my Father would mainly be reading his book or paper held close up to the candle； while his lips and heavy eyebrows occasionally quivered and palpitated； with literary ardour； in a manner strangely exciting to me。 Miss Marks； in a very high cap； and her large teeth shining； would occasionally appear in the doorway； desiring； with spurious geniality； to know how we were 'getting on'。 But on these occasions neither of us replied to Miss Marks。
Sometimes in the course of this winter； my Father and I had long cosy talks together over the fire。 Our favourite subject was murders。 I wonder whether little boys of eight； soon to go upstairs alone at night； often discuss violent crime with a widower…papa？ The practice； I cannot help thinking； is unusual； it was； however； consecutive with us。 We tried other secular subjects； but we were sure to come around at last to 'what do you suppose they really did with the body？' I was told； a thrilled listener； the adventure of Mrs Manning； who killed a gentleman on the stairs and buried him in quick…lime in the back…kitchen； and it was at this time that I learned the useful historical fact； which abides with me after half a century； that Mrs。 Manning was hanged in black satin； which thereupon went wholly out of fashion in England。 I also heard about Burke and Hare； whose story nearly froze me into stone with horror。
These were crimes which appear in the chronicles。 But who will tell me what 'the Carpet…bag Mystery' was； which my Father and I discussed evening after evening？ I have never come across a whisper of it since； and I suspect it of having been a hoax。 As I recall the details； people in a boat； passing down the Thames； saw a carpet…bag hung high in air； on one of the projections of a pier of Waterloo Bridge。 Being with difficulty dragged downor perhaps upthis bag was found to be full of human remains； dreadful butcher's business of joints and fragments。 Persons were missed； were identified； were again deniedthe whole is a vapour in my memory which shifts as I try to define it。 But clear enough is the picture I hold of myself； in a high chair； on the left… hand side of the sitting…room fireplace； the leaping flames reflected in the glass…case of tropical insects on the opposite wall； and my Father； leaning anxiously forward； with uplifted finger； emphasizing to me the pros and cons of the horrible carpet…bag evidence。
I suppose that my interest in these discussionsand Heaven knows I was animated enoughamused and distracted my Father； whose idea of a suitable theme for childhood's ear now seems to me surprising。 I soon found that these subjects were not welcome to everybody； for； starting the Carpet…bag Mystery one morning with Miss Marks； in the hope of delaying my arithmetic lesson； she fairly threw her apron over her ears； and told me； from that vantage； that if I did not desist at once； she should scream。
Occasionally we took winter walks together； my Father and I； down some lane that led to a sight of the sea； or over the rolling downs。 We tried to recapture the charm of those delightful strolls in London； when we used to lean over the bridges and watch the ducks。 But we could not recover this pleasure。 My Father was deeply enwoven in the chain of his own thoughts； and would stalk on； without a word； buried in angry reverie。 If he spoke to me； on these excursions； it was a pain to me to answer him。 I could talk on easy terms with him indoors； seated in my high chair； with our heads on a level； but it was intolerably laborious to look up into the firmament and converse with a dark face against the sky。 The actual exercise of walking； too； was very exhausting to me； the bright red mud； to the strange colour of which I could not for a long while get accustomed； becoming caked about my little shoes； and wearying me extremely。 I would grow petulant and cross； contradict my Father； and oppose his whims。 These walks were distressing to us both； yet he did not like to walk alone； and he had no other friend。 However； as the winter advanced； they had to be abandoned； and the habit of our taking a 'constitutional' together was never resumed。
I look back upon myself at this time as upon a cantankerous； ill… tempered and unobliging child。 The only excuse I can offer is that I really was not well。 The change to Devonshire had not suited me； my health gave the excellent Miss Marks some anxiety； but she was not ready in resource。 The dampness of the house was terrible； indoors and out； the atmosphere seemed soaked in chilly vapours。 Under my bed…clothes at night I shook like a jelly； unable to sleep for cold； though I was heaped with coverings； while my skin was all puckered with gooseflesh。 I could eat nothing solid； without suffering immediately from violent hiccough； so that much of my time was spent lying prone on my back upon the hearthrug； awakening the echoes like a cuckoo。 Miss Marks； therefore； cut off all food but milk…sop； a loathly bowl of which appeared at every meal。 In consequence the hiccough lessened； but my strength declined with it。 I languished in a perpetual catarrh。 I was roused to a conscious…ness that I was not considered well by the fact that my Father prayed publicly at morning and evening 'worship' that if it was the Lord's will to take me to himself there might be no doubt whatever about my being a sealed child of God and an inheritor of glory。 I was partly disconcerted by； partly vain of； this open advertisement of my ailme