Chapter V.
The next morning Petra sat in her room half dressed, and could get no further the whole day. Each time she made a fresh effort, her arms fell powerless on her lap. Her thoughts were weighed down like a full-ripe ear of corn, like rich bluebells in the fields. Peace, security, fluctuating visions hovered over the bright castle wherein she dwelt. She lived over again the interview of yesterday,—every word, every look, every pressure of the hand, every kiss was present before her; she wished to pass it all in review from the meeting to the parting, but could never get through, for every single reminiscence became transformed into a shadowy dream, and each dream kept returning with bright promises. Sweet as this was, she was forced to thrust it from her in order to recall where she had left off; but no sooner did she recall it than she was again lost in the marvelous.
As she did not come down-stairs, her mother supposed that she had taken up her studies
