though they had been powdered; their leaves, still wet, moved to and fro, glistening like diamonds. The grass lay prostrate, bent by the weight of the raindrops. The flowers gleamed in fresh colors in their beds. White and blue butterflies flew out of them and flitted upwards. A bird with an iridescent breast,—a finch it was,—flapped its wings in the damp sand of the walk, then flew upon a tree, and began to chirp. . . . Beyond the garden could be seen the red roofs of the houses. . . . Over everything lay the immeasurable azure of the heavens. . . .
The calm and peace of that morning, with the smile and power of the spring upon it, stirred Lucy’s heart. All saddenly became clear to her oppressed and crushed soul. A new life, a new life! The past was shut out, and she would turn upon her new road with fresh vigor. . . .
She folded her hands: she was moved by the pious faith of her childish years. From
