again; be no more to him than if she had never laid her head upon
his bosom; never felt his kisses upon lip and forehead; never lived
upon his words of love as rapt mortals, admitted in trances to the
banquet of the gods, eat ambrosia, and drink to divinest ecstacy of
nectar--the elixir of immortal life and joy, sparkling in golden
chalices.

She had had her dream--ravishing and brief--but the awakening was
terrible as the struggle back to life from a swoon or deathful
lethargy. As to thinking, I believe nobody thinks at such seasons.
Nature shrinks in speechless horror at sight of the descending
weight, and when it has fallen, lies motionless, gasping in breath
to enable her to support the intolerable anguish, not speculating
how to avert the next stroke. Frederic and she were parted! Had not
Winston said so! And when was he known to reverse a verdict! She had
nothing to do but sit still and let the waters go over her head.

Rosa was seated upon the upper step of the west porch, her chin
cradled in her hand, her elbow on her knee, gazing on the darkening
sky, and crooning Scotch ballads in a pensive, dreamy way. Mabel,
from her perch, eyed her as if she were a creature belonging to
another world--seen dimly, and comprehended yet more imperfectly.
Yet it could not have been half an hour--thirty fleeting
minutes--since the two had talked as dear friends out of the fulness
of their hearts. Where were the hopes and happy memories that had
made hers then a garden of pleasant things, a fruitful field which
Heaven had blessed? In that little inch of time, the flood had come
and taken them all away.

Would the dry aching in her throat and chest ever be less? Tears had