liberate reflection.

What demon had possessed the Fates that they should have brought this
lot upon her? It could not be the destiny which had been marked out for
her from the first. That had been a different one, she was sure. Her
instinct had whispered peace and success to her. Such were the blessings
which should have been unravelled for her from off the twirling spindle;
but some malignant spirit must have substituted another person's
deserved condemnation in place of her more kindly lot.

That she had failed in attaining the grand end of her desires was not,
of itself, the utmost of her misfortune. She had aimed high, because it
was as easy to do that as to accept a lower object of ambition. She had
taken her course, believing that all things are possible to the
energetic and daring, but, at the same time, fully realizing the chances
of failure. But to fail had simply seemed to her to remain where she
was, instead of ascending higher--to miss becoming the wife of the
imperator, but to continue, as before, the main guide and direction of
his thoughts, impulses, and affections.

And now, without previous token or warning, had come upon her the
terrible realization that she had not only gained nothing, but had lost
all, and that the fatal chance which had fettered her schemes, had also
led to her further degradation. Thrown aside like a broken toy-with a
jeering confession that she had wearied her possessor--with a cool,
heartless criticism upon her character, and with cruel prophecies about
her future--gambled for with one whose sight filled her with
abhorrence--and, when won, made over to him as a bone is tossed to a
dog--what more bitterness could be heaped upon her?

But there was now no use in mourning about the past. What had been done
could not be altered. Nor could she disguise from herself the
impossibility of ever regaining her former position and influence. Those
had passed away forever. She must now look to the future alone, and
endeavor so to shape its course as to afford herself some relief from
its terrors. Possibly there might yet be found a way of escape.

Should she try to fly? That, she knew, could not be done--at least,
alone. The world was wide, but the arm of the imperial police was long;
and though she might, for a little while, wander purposelessly hither
and thither, yet before many hours the well-directed efforts of a
pursuer would be sure to arrest her. She could die--for in every place