ld, clammy, dripping ones which
the chill north exhibits--ah! not alone in poetry.

As Susanna entered the apartment of Mrs. Astrid, she found her sitting,
as usual, sunk in deep melancholy. Upon a table before her lay paper and
pens, and a book, in which she appeared to have been reading. It was the
Bible; it lay open at the book of Job, and the following passages were
underlined:

My soul is weary of my life, for my days are vanity.
Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upwards.

Mrs. Astrid's eyes were riveted upon these last words, as Susanna
softly, and with a warm heart, approached her, and with a cordial "Ah!
be so good," presented to her the nosegay.

The lady looked up at the flowers, and an expression of pain passed over
her countenance as she turned away her head and said, "They are
beautiful, but keep them, Susanna, they are painful to my eyes."

She resumed her former position, and Susanna, much troubled, drew back;
after a short silence, however, she again ventured to raise her voice,
and said, "We have got to-day a beautiful salmon-trout, will you not,
Mrs. Astrid, have it for dinner? Perhaps with egg-sauce, and perhaps I
might roast a duck, or a chicken----"

"Do whatever you like, Susanna," said the lady, interrupting her, and
with indifference. But there was something so sorrowful in this
indifference, that Susanna, who had again approached her, could not
contain herself; she quickly threw herself before her mistress, clasped
her knees, and said:

"Ah, if I could only do something to please my lady; if I could only do
something."

But Susanna's warm glance, beaming with devotion, met one so dark, that
she involuntarily started back.

"Susanna," said Mrs. Astrid, as with gloomy seriousness she laid her
hand upon her shoulder and gently put her back, "gratify me in one
thing, attach not thyself to me. It will not lead to good. I have no
attachment to give--my heart is dead! Go, my child," continued she more
kindly, "go, and do not trouble thyself about me. My wish, the only good
thing for me, is to be alone."

Susanna went now, her heart filled with the most painful feelings. "Not
trouble myself about her!" said she to herself, as she wiped away a
tear; "not trouble myself about her, as if that were so easy."

After Susanna was gone, Mrs. Astrid threw a melancholy glance upon the
papers which lay before her. She seized the pen, and laid it down again.
She seemed to shudder at the tho