“Come in!” replied Petra to the low knock in the evening, and stepped back a few paces that she might have a better view of her lover as he entered. Like an ice-cold bath, as if the ground had slipped away beneath her feet, she beheld the face that met her in the door. She reeled backward and grasped the bed-post, but, hurled from abyss to abyss, her mind lost all support. Instantly she was rudely transformed from the happiest bride on earth to the most guilty sinner. This face, as though with the voice of thunder, proclaimed to her that through time and eternity she could never be forgiven.
“I see it; you are guilty!” he whispered, in scarcely audible tones.
He leaned back against the door, clinging to the latch, as if without it he could not stand. His voice quivered, tears rolled down his face, although otherwise it was unmoved.
“Do you realize what you have done?” and his eyes pressed her to the ground. She did not reply—not even with tears; she was paralyzed by utter, helpless despair. “Once before I gave my whole soul away, and he on whom I bestowed it died through my fault. It was impossible for me to rise above this sorrow unless some one else should lend me a helping hand and give to me her whole heart. This
