they were aware even of her absence. As for the rest, to confess the
truth, she thought nothing at all about it; but with a loudly-beating
heart, and the words, "Oh, father! we have seen the Wood-god!" on her
lips, she made a spring, and rushed forward on the wings of fancy as
fast as her little legs would carry her in a direction exactly the
opposite of that which led homeward, and which at the same time removed
her from the grotto; never thinking, the poor Petrea! that in this world
there are many ways. Before long, however, she found it necessary to
stand still, in order to rest herself: it was all so beautiful around
her; delicious odours breathed from the wild flowers; the birds sang;
the heaven was cloudless; and here, where no Cupids nor Chinese temples
dazzled her thoughts, the very remembrance of the god Pan vanished from
her soul, and instead of it a thought, or more properly speaking a
sentiment, took possession of it--a holy and beautiful sentiment, which
the mother had early instilled into the hearts of her children. Petrea
saw herself solitary, yet at the same time she felt that she was not so;
in the deliciousness of the air, in the beauty of nature, she perceived
the presence of a good spirit, which she had been taught to call Father;
and filled, as her heart seemed to be, by a sense of his goodness and
affection, which appeared never to have been so sensibly impressed upon
her mind as then, her heart felt as if it must dissolve itself in love
and happiness. She sank down on the grass, and seemed to be on the way
to heaven. But, ah! the way thither is not so easy; and these heavenly
foretastes remain only a short time in the souls of children, as well as
of grown people.

That which brought Petrea from her heavenly journey back to the earth
again was a squirrel, which sprang directly across her path, and sent
her forth immediately in chase of it. To catch such game, and to carry
it home, would be indeed in the highest degree a memorable action. "What
would Henrik and my sisters say? What would all the city say? Perhaps it
will get into the newspapers!--perhaps the king may get to hear of
it!"--thought Petrea, whilst, out of herself with ambition and
earnestness, she pursued the little squirrel over stock and stone.

Her frock was torn; her hands and feet were bruised; but that was a mere
nothing! She felt it not, more particularly--oh, height of felicity!--as
she fell down, and at that same moment graspe