Love's young dream had been sweet
indeed; but, ah! how bitter was the awakening. Her castles in the
air had all melted into clouds, and here in the very flower of her
youth she felt that her life was ruined, and she was as one
wandering in a sterile waste, with a black and starless sky
overhead. She clasped her hands with a sensation of pain, and a rose
at her breast fell down withered and dead. She took it up with
listless fingers, and with the quiver of her hand the leaves fell
off and were scattered over her white dress in a pink shower. It was
an allegory of her life, she thought. Once it had been as fresh and
full of fragrance as this dead rose; then it had withered, and now
she saw all her hopes and beliefs falling off one by one like the
faded petals. Ah, there is no despair like that of youth; and Kitty,
sitting on the floor with hot dry eyes and a pain in her heart, felt
that the sun of her life had set for ever.
**
So still the night was. No moon as yet, but an innumerable blaze of
stars set like diamonds in the dark blue sky. A smoky yellowish haze
hung over the city, but down in the garden amid the flowers all was
cool and fragrant. The house was quite dark, and a tall mulberry
tree on one side of it was black against the clear sky. Suddenly the
door opened, and a figure came out and closed the door softly after
it. Down the path it came, and standing in the middle of the garden,
raised a white tear-stained face to the dark sky.
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