terrible fall. But the defiant rebellion against the consciousness of
guilt, which moved her so deeply, always ceased abruptly as soon as it
raised its head; for one fact was positive, if the curse she had called
down upon the innocent child, who had done her no intentional wrong, had
really caused Juliane's end, a whole life was not long enough to atone
for the sin which she had committed. Yet what atonement was still in her
power, after the death which she had summoned had performed its terrible
work of executioner?

"Nothing, nothing at all!" she said to herself angrily, resolving, as she
had so often done with better success, to forget what had happened, cast
the past into oblivion, and live in the present as before. But ere she
could attempt to fulfil this determination, the image of the tall, grief-
bowed figure of the woman who had called Juliane her dear child rose
before her mind, and it seemed as if a cold, heavy hand paralyzed the
wings of the light-hearted temperament which had formerly borne her
pleasantly over so many things. Then she told herself that, in order not
to go to perdition herself, she must vow, sacrifice, undertake everything
for the salvation of the dead girl and of her own heavily burdened soul.
For the first time she felt a longing to confide her feelings to some
one. If Lienhard had been within reach and disposed to listen to her,
he would have understood, and known what course to advise.

True, the thought that he was not looking at her when she took the fatal
leap still haunted her. He could not have showed more offensively how
little he cared for her--but perhaps he was under the influence of a
spell; for she must be something to him. This was no vain self-
deception; had it not been so, would he have come in person to her couch
of pain, or cared for her so kindly after the accident?