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Again, from thence, his thoughts run over the same places and times, to find what action, or other occasion might make him lose it. This we call Remembrance, or Calling to mind: the Latines call it Reminiscentia, as it were a Re-Conning of our former actions.

The thoughts of what had occurred were almost sufficient to drive back her mind to a state of insensibility, if not to madness itself; but she felt that all the courage and energy she could muster were requisite for her guidance, and by a strenuous exertion of the intellect, she conquered the feeling which was so nearly overpowering her.

She caught "Mamma" again, then "Lisa," "Hans," and broken phrases that meant nothing to her. Was his mind back in some German home, which, perhaps, he would never see again? All sorts of thoughts passed through her: vague memories gathered from the newspapers, of what the Germans had done in Belgium and France horrible, indescribable things! Oh, not this boy, surely!

And now let us change the subject; it is not a very pleasant one, and, at your age, the less your thoughts turn on such matters the better."

Buxton tried to do away with his thoughts of her by much talking; but every now and then he looked wistfully toward the door. Erminia exerted herself to be as lively as she could, in order, if possible, to fill up the vacuum.

Probably he belonged to the crew of some hapless vessel wrecked near this, the survivors of whom were taken off by the ship we saw this morning. Poor fellow, we must come back and bury him another day, but we must delay no longer." The sad spectacle they had just witnessed made the explorers turn their thoughts from themselves.

At first she prayed fervently, but as she raised her eyes and saw the resemblance to Bel-Ami, she murmured: "Jesus Jesus " while her thoughts were with her daughter and her lover. She uttered a wild cry, as she pictured them together alone and fell into a swoon. When day broke they found Mme. Walter still lying unconscious before the painting.

At the beginning of the sixteenth century, there lived, at a small castle near Gap in Dauphiny, in the bosom of a noble and unostentatiously pious family, a young man of ardent imagination, fiery temperament, and energetic character, who shared his relatives' creeds and joined in their devotions, but grew weary of the monotony of his thoughts and of his life.

He walked up and down the room casting oblique glances at her, endeavoring to guess the secret thoughts of the singular woman whose mere glance had the power of discomfiting at times the cleverest men. "I foresaw this check," he replied, after a moment's silence. "If you would be willing to establish your headquarters in this town, I have already found a suitable place for you.

These thoughts, so favourable to the absent lover, crowded in, one after the other, with such a minute recapitulation of his words, looks, and actions, as plainly intimated that his former repulse had been dictated rather by duty than inclination.