f, then were they to be envied.

Drouet abandoned his claim and was seen no more. Of Hurstwood's death
she was not even aware. A slow, black boat setting out from the pier at
Twenty-seventh Street upon its weekly errand bore, with many others, his
nameless body to the Potter's Field.

Thus passed all that was of interest concerning these twain in their
relation to her. Their influence upon her life is explicable alone by
the nature of her longings. Time was when both represented for her
all that was most potent in earthly success. They were the personal
representatives of a state most blessed to attain--the titled
ambassadors of comfort and peace, aglow with their credentials. It is
but natural that when the world which they represented no longer allured
her, its ambassadors should be discredited. Even had Hurstwood returned
in his original beauty and glory, he could not now have allured her.
She had learned that in his world, as in her own present state, was not
happiness.

Sitting alone, she was now an illustration of the devious ways by which
one who feels, rather than reasons, may be led in the pursuit of beauty.
Though often disillusioned, she was still waiting for that halcyon day
when she would be led forth among dreams become real. Ames had pointed
out a farther step, but on and on beyond that, if accomplished, would
lie others for her. It was forever to be the pursuit of that radiance of
delight which tints the distant hilltops of the world.

Oh, Carrie, Carrie! Oh, blind strivings of the human heart! Onward
onward, it saith, and where beauty leads, there it follows. Whether it
be the tinkle of a lone sheep bell o'er some quiet landscape, or the
glimmer of beauty in sylvan places, or the show of soul in some passing
eye, the heart knows and makes answer, following. It is when the feet
weary and hope seems vain that the heartaches and the longings arise.
Know, then, that for you is neither surfeit nor content. In your
rocking-chair, by your window dreaming, shall you long, alone. In your
rocking-chair, by your window, shall you dream such happiness as you may
never feel.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sister Carrie, by Theodore Dreiser

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