e. She awoke, and, resting her head upon
her hand, gazed about her with the air of one to whom all is lost.

The air was laden with the odor of pines, and fresh, cooling breezes
were wafted from the lake. The bells of the browsing cattle were heard
from the neighboring hills. The dew glistened; every object was radiant
with light; but to her, all was night. It was long before she realized
that she was awake, or where she was. At last, she became conscious of
herself; but still she moved not. Sad and gloomy thoughts passed
through her mind. Why awake? Oh, pitiless nature! why cannot the soul's
anguish destroy thee? Why is it necessary to use another force--fire,
water, steel, or poison--to oppose thee? Why is it that the soul can
ruin the body, and yet cannot destroy it? Sun! what dost thou want of
me? I want thee no longer! My father's writing burns my brow.
Conscience hammers at me, as if with a thousand fists, and yet does not
destroy me!--Why is this? Why?

She closed her eyes and turned away from the sun. Something whispered
to her: "There's time yet. It may all prove to be a hellish adventure,
a waking dream. Turn back! You can, you may. You have fully expiated
all."

As if moved by some invisible power, she again turned toward the sun.
Below her lay the glittering lake, and its waves seemed to say; "In
these depths, all thought, all trouble, all fear, all doubt is at an
end."

She arose, and when she saw the impression her figure had made in the
moss, she looked at it for a long while. Thus, thought she, does the
stag look at his nightly couch when the fatal shot has struck him. Are
we better than the hunted beasts of the forest? All is vanity! What use
is there in torturing ourselves? One bold plunge will end all. She put
on her hat and walked away, alone in the world with the one idea that
possessed her. No voice dissuaded her; she was mistress over life and
death.

The blackberry bushes caught her dress and held her fast, and, while
extricating herself, the thorns scratched her hands and feet.

She felt a sense of gnawing hunger, and wept like a forsaken child.

Tears came to her relief.

Just then, she saw more berries, which she plucked and ate with eager
appetite. Startled by her, a bird and its mate flew up from among the
blackberry bushes. There was the empty nest. Every creature has its
home. Irma stood there for some time, quite forgetting herself. She
turned her head,--and, behold! beside the