own sake he had hoped to keep her on the low level to which she was born; now let him recognise his folly! Some day she would present herself before him:—“Very sorry that I could not oblige you, my dear sir, but you see that my lot was to be rather different from that you kindly planned for me.” Let them gossip and envy!
It was a strange night that followed. Between one and two o’clock the heavens began to be overflashed with summer lightning; there was no thunder, no rain. The blue gleams kept illuminating the room for more than an hour. Clara could not lie in bed. The activity of her brain became all but delirium; along her nerves, through all the courses of her blood, seemed to run fires which excited her with an indescribable mingling of delight and torment. She walked to and fro, often speaking aloud, throwing up her arms. She leaned from the open window and let the lightning play freely upon her face; she fancied it had the effect of restoring her wasted health. Whatever the cause, she felt
