"I'm afraid, Miss Brodie, that I've behaved very badly.
"This," went on Jack airily, "is a friend of mine, Bruce Graham,--Graham, this is Miss Brodie."
Brodie's diary is one of the most humiliating, heart-searching, and heart-instructing books I ever read.
Let all public men tempted and afflicted with a facile, pliable, time-serving heart have honest Brodie at their elbow.
At this point I would pause to inquire why, Miss Brodie, you did not take me into your confidence yesterday afternoon?"
I cannot but feel that I shall occupy an invidious position in, at any rate, Miss Brodie's eyes until I have explained."
As the picture of a man's soul being pulled for rises before my mind, I can think of no better companion picture to that of Pliable than that of poor, hard-beset Brodie of Brodie, as he lets us see the pull for his soul in the honest pages of his inward diary.
I wish you would ask Brodie, or any of our best men, whether they have met with this affection; what class it affects, and what course it usually takes? My Italian doctor implies that it is the passing malady of men highly excitable, and largely endowed with mental gifts.