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Updated: July 15, 2025
To tell the truth, she's more than half afraid of me, and I delight in mystifying her all I can. But the strangest thing of all, the most ridiculous thing, considering his age, the oddest thing when one remembers that he himself is its creator Professor Darmstetter is half in love with the beauty he has made; he would be, if he might, the gray and withered Pygmalion of my Galatea! December 15.
But she couldn't advise me. I ought to have a home, though, and some one older than Kitty to look after me. I must leave the den; but where to go? Suppose I burned myself broiling chops or beefsteak, or blistered my face with steam from the kettle! That would be frightful, now. It's the least I can do for Prof. Darmstetter to keep free from harm the beauty he gives me.
The Judge has given me a microscope so that I may study at home instead of going to Barnard; and to please him I make a pretence of cutting sections from the plants in Aunt's conservatory; but oh, it's so dull, so dull! Or would be but for my happy thoughts. It isn't interest in apical cell or primary meristem that makes me fret to return to Prof. Darmstetter!
You are satisfied vit' our vork vit' me?" "Yes, I'm satisfied," I said coolly. Just as soon as I could, I left him. Oh, I ought to be grateful, more than ever grateful now that the Bacillus has won for me the most blessed of earth's gifts the gift of love. But I'm not; I wish I might never again see Prof. Darmstetter; he reminds me he makes me feel unreal.
Perhaps I shall cling to it until I, too Ah, I can see that ghastly Thing, the dead, hideous eyes staring up at me! Shall I be like that some day? As ugly as that! It was not my fault, dead, staring eyes; not my fault! The Nicaragua, April 27. I've been sitting for my portrait to Van Nostrand. It is an offering to the shades of Prof. Darmstetter.
Sometimes I think do you believe in soul transmigration?" My heart beat until it choked me. Some voice far in the depths of my soul warned me that I must check him we must wait until I he Milly "Sometimes; who does not? But Prof. Darmstetter would say that it was nonsense," I whispered, and waited without power to say another word. "It is true; Helen is alive again, and all men worship her."
Then, with scorn for my folly, I ran out into the hall, crying for help. The janitor rushed in, and seeing what had happened, went for the nearest physician, who came at once and knelt by the fallen man's side. But before he closed the staring eyes, rose from his examination of the prostrate figure and slowly shook his head, we both knew that Prof. Darmstetter was dead.
Indeed I had been frightened; yet why should not the world demand to look upon me? I thought only of hurrying to Prof. Darmstetter that he might share my triumph. But Aunt wouldn't hear of my leaving the house; scarcely of my coming down stairs. Fluttering into my room she would bring me some fruit, a novel; then she would trot away again with an air of preoccupation.
Now there is no more fear. Darmstetter is my servant, if I will it. As for his marvellous power, I shall bless it and reverence it all my life. I thank God for letting me know this man. It is too wonderful too wonderful for words! The transformation was slow at first. The beginning such an anxious time.
To-day I have been going over her own story of her life of her meeting with Darmstetter, of the blight he cast upon her, of her growth in loveliness, her brief fluttering in the sunshine, her failure, her supping with sorrow, her death. I must bring to a close the record of this miracle. This who was the most extraordinary woman that ever lived, was also little Nellie Winship.
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