r than
the outburst of one of the hidden powers of nature?

But amid all this tumult of thoughts, one emotion was ever absent from
her mind--no feeling of anger toward the two persons who now made her
suffer so bitterly, stirred in her soul. The woman who had no scruple
in making her life desolate, in wresting from her, her only happiness,
of whom she knew nothing, except that she had bewitched her beloved
husband and yet had not satisfied his heart--what did she this
stranger? And Edwin--had he deceived her? Did he not suffer most
bitterly, because he esteemed and honored her too highly to make even
an attempt to delude her about his condition?

But the very fact of his remaining loving, affectionate and honest to
her, and continuing to give her a brotherly share in his fate was
unendurable. She could not suffer it longer, for it mocked her heart,
whose inmost depths were overflowing with passionate love. Yet she
did not know how to change it, what to say to him, when he should
return with his wound nearly healed to place himself in her sisterly
care--lest some day, by accident the wound should begin to bleed again
and perhaps endanger his life. But did she not also owe something to
herself and the child she bore under her heart? Could she suffer the
poor thing to be greeted by its father with a joy only prompted by a
sense of duty, and perhaps--who knows--secretly regarded as a new link
in the oppressive chain that must be worn with the best possible grace?
At this thought, the mother's blood in her rebelled with such fierce
indignation and wrath, that for a moment an odious shadow darkened even
Edwin's image. But the next instant she shrank from her own
impetuosity, and with all the power of her will repelled the hostile
feeling.

For the first time in her life, since she had been united to Edwin, she
felt unspeakably alone. What would she have given for a friend who
might have aided her to disentangle the sorrowful confusion of her
thoughts? She remembered Reginchen--Reinhold--and instantly felt that
no one, even if bound by far closer ties, possessing a much deeper
insight into her nature, could have been a mediator between her fate
and her womanly pride, her husband and her inmost feelings.

For hours she remained hopelessly striving to quell the tumult in her
soul; at length her thoughts grew weary, and she began to perform her
few household tasks, which were speedily accomplished. Then she
mechanically took