I expect the process will soon begin on me , but it has n't yet . My flesh and blood are still unreasonably warm and pulsing and rebellious . Aunt Martha would be in danger of taking a fit if she ever saw me talking to a man . She watches me jealously , firmly determined to guard me from any possible attack of a roaring and ravening lion in the disguise of nineteenth-century masculine attire . So I have to walk demurely and assume a virtue , if I have it not , while I pine after the untested flesh-pots of Egypt in secret . We have come down to spend a few weeks at Fir Cottage . Our good landlady is a capacious , kindly-souled creature , and I think she has rather a liking for me . I have been chattering to her all day , for there are times when I absolutely must talk to someone or go mad . July Tenth . This sort of life is decidedly dull . The program of every day is the same . I go to the sandshore with Aunt Martha and Mrs. Saxby in the morning , read to Aunt in the afternoons , and mope around by my disconsolate self in the evenings . Mrs. Blake has lent me , for shore use , a very fine spyglass which she owns . She says her `` man '' brought it home from `` furrin ' parts '' before he died . While Aunt and Mrs. Saxby meander up and down the shore , leaving me free to a certain extent , I amuse myself by examining distant seas and coasts through it , thus getting a few peeps into a forbidden world . We see few people , although there is a large summer hotel about a mile up the beach . Our shore haunts do not seem to be popular with its guests . They prefer the rocks . This suits Aunt Martha admirably . I may also add that it does n't suit her niece -- but that is a matter of small importance .
The first morning I noticed a white object on the rocks , XXXXX half a mile away , and turned my glass on it .
about after although before by of on through to while