loated toward her the twittering of a
solitary bird, the babbling of the child, and Roennaug's laughter, which
rang with the utmost clearness through the trees.

Magnhild ventured to draw forth the letter once more. She opened it. It
was not folded in the original creases. She spread it out before her,
and looked at it as an aged woman might gaze into the depths of a chest
upon her bridal garments. A solitary sunbeam, breaking through the
branches, played restlessly on the sheet, and was now round, now oblong.
Magnhild saw within its shining ring one word, two words, more
distinctly than the rest. "Great hopes--and failed!" were written there.
"Great hopes--and failed." She read and trembled. Alas! alas! alas! Over
and over again she read the words, and felt rich in expectation, in
dread, in memories of bliss and of conflict; she could not sit still,
she rose to her feet, but only to sit down again to fresh efforts. The
ringing tones of Roennaug's laughter broke upon her solitude, like a
staff, which she grasped for support. She gained courage from Roennaug's
courage, and looked here and there in the letter, not to read, rather to
find out whether she dare read. But she was too agitated to connect the
broken sentences, and was led, almost unawares, to a continuous perusal.
She did not understand all that she read. Still it was a communion; it
was like the warm clasp of a hand. There was music wafted about
her,--_his_ music; she was once more in his presence, with the rare
perfume, the look, the embarrassed silence, amid which she had
experienced earth's highest bliss. The diamond cut its shining circlets
over the piano keys, his white, refined hand played "Flowers on the
Green." Wholly under his influence now, she became absorbed in
re-reading the letter, comprehended it better than before, paused,
exulted without words, read, while the tears trickled down her cheeks.
She paused, without being aware of it, simply because she could not see,
began again, without perceiving it, wept profusely, read on, finished
only to begin anew--three, four, five times from beginning to end. She
could read no more.

What had she not experienced during this perusal of thoughts and
feelings she had had a thousand times before, and thoughts and feelings
she had never dreamed of!

The first complete impression she gathered, in the humid forest shades,
where she sat concealed from view, was like a shaft of quivering
sunbeams. It was the fo