A little girl, sent to her door, could get no
answer. The teachers became alarmed, and broke it open. Bitter
was their penitence, and that of her companions, at the state
in which they found her. For some hours terrible anxiety was
felt, but at last nature, exhausted, relieved herself by a
deep slumber.
'From this Mariana arose an altered being. She made no reply
to the expressions of sorrow from her companions, none to the
grave and kind, but undiscerning, comments of her teacher. She
did not name the source of her anguish, and its poisoned
dart sank deeply in. This was the thought which stung her
so:--"What, not one, not a single one, in the hour of trial,
to take my part? not one who refused to take part against me?"
Past words of love, and caresses, little heeded at the time,
rose to her memory, and gave fuel to her distempered heart.
Beyond the sense of burning resentment at universal perfidy,
she could not get. And Mariana, born for love, now hated all
the world.
'The change, however, which these feelings made in her conduct
and appearance, bore no such construction to the careless
observer.
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