e as an equal in the most refined circles
of Europe, and yet her youth and early womanhood had passed away
amid the very decent, yet drudging, descendants of the prim Puritans.
Trained among those who could have discerned her peculiar power, and
early fed with the fruits of beauty for which her spirit pined, she
would have developed into one of the finest lyrists, romancers and
critics, that the modern literary world has seen. This she knew; and
this tantalization of her fate she keenly felt.

But the tragedy of Margaret's history was deeper yet. Behind the poet
was the woman,--the fond and relying, the heroic and disinterested
woman. The very glow of her poetic enthusiasm was but an outflush of
trustful affection; the very restlessness of her intellect was
the confession that her heart had found no home. A "book-worm," "a
dilettante," "a pedant," I had heard her sneeringly called; but now it
was evident that her seeming insensibility was virgin pride, and her
absorption in study the natural vent of emotions, which had met
no object worthy of life-long attachment. At once, many of her
peculiarities became intelligible. Fitfulness, unlooked-for changes of
mood, misconceptions of words and actions, substitution of fancy
for fact,--which had annoyed me during the previous season, as
inconsistent in a person of such capacious judgment and sustained
self-government,--were now referred to the morbid influence of
affections pent up to prey upon themselves. And, what was still more
interesting, the clue was given to a singular credulousness, by
which, in spite of her unusual penetration, Margaret might be led away
blindfold. As this revelation of her ardent nature burst upon me, and
as, rapidly recalling the past, I saw how faithful she had kept to her
high purposes,--how patient, gentle, and thoughtful for others, how
active in self-improvement and usefulness, how wisely dignified she
had been,--I could not but bow to her in reverence.

We walked back to the house amid a rosy sunset, and it was with no
surprise that I heard her complain of an agonizing nervous headache,
which compelled her at once to retire, and call for assistance. As
for myself, while going homeward, I reflected with astonishment on the
unflagging spiritual energy with which, for hour after hour, she
had swept over lands and seas of thought, and, as my own excitement
cooled, I became conscious of exhaustion, as if a week's life had been
concentrated in a d