considerate hand. And she, what could she do to win back the man who
held every fixed resolve as firmly as the rocks of the cliff hold the
pine which grows from them?

Nothing, except to bear patiently whatever he inflicted upon her.

This, however, seemed to her so impossible and painful, so humiliating
and shocking, that she sprang from her bed and for a long time paced with
bare feet the sleeping-room, which was but dimly lighted by the lamp.
Yet all her thoughts and pondering were futile, and when she lay down
again she slept until mass.

By daylight she found that she had regarded matters in far too dark a
light. True, Charles probably no longer loved her as ardently as before,
yet she need scarcely fear the worst at present. But the bare thought of
having so soon lost the power to bind him to her aroused a storm of
feeling in her passionate soul, and when it subsided bitter thoughts
followed, and a series of plans which, on closer examination, proved
impracticable.

The day dragged slowly along.

During the ride in the country she was so depressed and downcast that her
companions asked what troubled her.

The lonely evening seemed endless. A short letter from her father, which
informed her that he had not expected too much of himself, and was in
good health, she cast aside after reading. During the night the feeling
of unhappiness and apprehension increased. But the next morning the sun
shone brightly into her windows, and after mass a messenger from the