194
IN MAREMMA.
less wind, seemed wearisome and sad. She laboured enough, just enough, to meet her barest wants; no more.
She no more watched the stars, the plants, the birds, the streams and shallows with the blue butterflies at play upon their surface.
Her youth seemed to have died in her with the little child, her eyes seemed for ever to be darkened with tears that never fell.
As each hour went by she thought, 'Where is he? who beholds him? who watches for his step?'
When night fell, she prayed that in his dreams he might once dream of her, and so remember once.
Did he fear her reproaches that he did not come? Ah! how little he knew!———
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