mercy of God, is
this my state?"

She laid her head upon her arms and wept bitterly. When she
straightened up again, calmed, she gazed out into the garden. All was
so still, and her ear could detect a low sweet sound, as of falling
rain, coming from the plane trees. This continued for a while. Then
from the village street came the sound of a human voice. The old
nightwatchman Kulicke was calling out the hour. When at last he was
silent she heard in the distance the rattling of the passing train,
some two miles away. This noise gradually became fainter and finally
died away entirely--Still the moonlight lay upon the grass plot and
there was still the low sound, as of falling rain upon the plane
trees. But it was only the gentle playing of the night air.

CHAPTER XXV

[The following evening Innstetten met Effi at the station in Berlin
and said he had thought she would not keep her word, as she had not
when she came to Berlin to select their apartment. In a short time he
began to bestir himself to make a place for his wife in Berlin
society. At a small party early in the season he tactlessly twitted
her about Crampas and for days thereafter she felt haunted by the
Major's spirit. But once the Empress had selected her to be a lady of
honor at an important function, and the Emperor had addressed a few
gracious remarks to her at a court ball, the past began to seem to her
a mere dream, and her cheerfulness was restored. After about seven
years in Berlin Dr. Rummschuettel was one day called to see her for
various reasons and prescribed treatment at Schwalbach and Ems. She
was to be accompanied by the wife of Privy Councillor Zwicker, who in
spite of her forty odd years seemed to need a protectress more than
Effi did. While Roswitha was helping with the preparations for the
journey Effi called her to account for never going, as a good Catholic
should, to a priest to confess her sins, particularly her great sin,
and promised to talk the matter over with her seriously after
returning from Ems.]

CHAPTER XXVI

[Innstetten could see by Effi's letters from Ems that Mrs. Zwicker was
not the right kind of a companion for her and he longed for her to
come back to him. As the end of her sojourn at the watering place
approached, preparations were made to welcome her on her return home.
A "W," made of forget-me-nots, was to be hung up and some verses
composed by a friend of the family were to be spoken by Annie. On