Page:Magdalen by J S Machar.pdf/77

 the summit of a mountain. A soft breeze circled around her. Infinity lay stretched out before her eyes. Beautiful colors gleamed in the splendor of the sun, Man was lost unto himself

Women’s tears Reader, they are a salutary property of Eve’s daughters in this world. There is not a sorrow of a woman, not a grief, burden, memory, not one shadow, that cannot be washed away by a few salty, bitter tears! Once again, her soul is changed and free, playing like the many-colored butterfly that flits about in the golden light over a flowery meadow

Lucy was sitting at the spinet. The old lady placed a sheet of music before her.

“Here is the song of which my deceased husband used to be very fond. It is a German song,—yet he was a patriot and a good Bohemian. As a student he used to frequent Jungmann’s house! My child,