This sun had
shone upon her from the tender glances of a lady whom she had loved as
a tutelar genius, as a divinity, as the bright star of her existence!
Whenever that lady had come to her in the solitary house in which she
then dwelt, then had all appeared to her as in a transfiguration; then
had even her peevish old servant learned to smile and become humble and
friendly; then all was joy and happiness, and whoever saw that beautiful
and brilliant lady, had thought himself blessed, and had fallen down to
adore her.
Of that lady was the young maiden now thinking, of that memorable woman
with the flashing eyes whose tender glance had always penetrated the
heart of the child with delight, whose tender words yet resounded like
music in her ears.
Where was she now, this lady of her love, her longings? why had she been
brought away from that house with its snowy winding-sheet and the ice
drapery upon its windows? Where lay that house, and where had she to
seek it with her thoughts? What was the language she had there spoken,
and which she now secretly spoke in her heart, although nobody else
addressed her in it, no one about her understood it; and wherefore had
her friend and protector, he who had brought her here, who had always
been with her, wherefore had he suddenly given himself the appearance of
no longer understanding it?
And even as she was thinking of him, of this dear friend and protector,
he came along down the alley; his tall form appeared at the end of the
walk; she recognized his noble features, with the proud eagle glance and
the bold arched brow.
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