in a mournful tone, ‘Dearest child—on a day like this, how could such melancholy thoughts come into your mind?’—’For this,’ answered she, ‘I cannot assign any proper cause—I only know that my heart became very much oppressed, and it seemed to me all of a sudden, that I had never till then felt so heavily the loss of my beloved Hildegarde. A strange delusion rose in my mind, and I could not help believing, that if I went to her room I should find her sitting, as in old times, with her guitar. I said nothing of this to any one, but glided out of the ball-room unobserved, and went up stairs.’—‘Did you find her, then?’—‘Alas, no—but, when once in her apartments, I could not force myself again to leave them. I was wearied, sat down on a chair by the window—and knew not how the time passed, till, at last, I started up as if from sleep, and hastened hither.’—‘How long, then, is it since you left the ball-room?’ inquired her mother. ‘At a quarter before twelve—the clock then struck as I entered my sister’s apartments.’—‘Good Heaven, how can we explain this? cried her mother; ‘what she has told us is so well connected, and yet, I know also that the clock struck
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