travel arose before her, vivid and tragic even in their hold and
spell upon her.

The winter of 1883-84 was not especially productive. She wrote a
few reminiscences of her journey and occasional poems on the Jewish
themes, which appeared in the "American Hebrew;" but for the most
part gave herself up to quiet retrospect and enjoyment with her
friends of the life she had had a glimpse of, and the experience she
had stored,--a restful, happy period. In August of the same year
she was stricken with a severe and dangerous malady, from which she
slowly recovered, only to go through a terrible ordeal and affliction.
Her father's health, which had long been failing, now broke down
completely, and the whole winter was one long strain of acute anxiety,
which culminated in his death, in March, 1885. The blow was a
crushing one for Emma. Truly, the silver cord was loosed, and the
golden bowl broken. Life lost its meaning and charm. Her father's
sympathy and pride in her work had been her chief incentive and
ambition, and had spurred her on when her own confidence and spirit
failed. Never afterwards did she find complete and spontaneous
expression. She decided to go abroad as the best means of regaining
composure and strength and sailed once more in May for England,
where she was welcomed now by the friends she had made, almost as
to another home. She spent the summer very quietly at Richmond,an
ideally beautiful spot in Yorkshire, where she soon felt the
beneficial influence of her peaceful surroundings. "The very air
seems to rest one here," she writes; and inspired by the romantic
loveliness of the place, she even composed the first few chapters
of a novel, begun with a good deal of dash and vigor, but soon
abandoned, for she was still struggling with depression and gloom.