Chapter I

           Perhapsthethingswhichhappenedcouldonlyhavehappenedtome.Idonotknow.Ineverheardofthingslikethemhappeningtoanyoneelse.ButIamnotsorrytheydidhappen.Iaminsecretdeeplyandstrangelyglad.Ihaveheardotherpeoplesaythings—andtheywerenotalwayssadpeople,either—whichmademefeelthatiftheyknewwhatIknowitwouldseemtothemasthoughsomeawesome,heavyloadtheyhadalwaysdraggedaboutwiththemhadfallenfromtheirshoulders.Tomostpeopleeverythingissouncertainthatiftheycouldonlyseeorhearandknowsomethingcleartheywoulddropupontheirkneesandgivethanks.ThatwaswhatIfeltmyselfbeforeIfoundoutsostrangely,andIwasonlyagirl.ThatiswhyIintendtowritethisdownaswellasIcan.Itwillnotbeverywelldone,becauseIneverwascleveratall,andalwaysfounditdifficulttotalk.

           Isaythatperhapsthesethingscouldonlyhavehappenedtome,because,asIlookbackovermylife,Irealizethatithasalwaysbeenarathercuriousone.EvenwhenthosewhotookcareofmedidnotknowIwasthinkingatall,IhadbeguntowonderifIwerenotdifferentfromotherchildren.Thatwas,ofcourse,largelybecauseMuircarrieCastlewasinsuchawildandremotepartofScotlandthatwhenmyfewrelationsfelttheymustpaymeavisitasamerematterofduty,theirjourneyfromLondon,ortheirpleasantplacesinthesouthofEngland,seemedtothemlikeapilgrimagetoasortofsavageland;andwhenaconscientiousonebroughtachildtoplaywithme,thelittlecivilizedcreaturewasasfrightenedofmeasIwasofit.