It would have been a piteous sight to the coldest or most injured heart to have seen that beautiful woman crouched on the floor, in the extremity of her anguish, writhing to and fro, and moaning in mortal agony, which could find no relief in tears.
She remained thus for a long time; at last some sudden thought appeared to strike her, which brought with it an absolute necessity for self-control and immediate action.
She rose to her feet, muttering:
"He will be here again soon; he must not find me like this!"
She walked to the mirror, arranged her disordered dress and hair, and stood gazing at her own features in a sort of wondering pity; they were so death-like and contracted, with suffering that she felt almost as if looking into the face of a stranger.
At length she caught up a cloak which lay on the sofa, wrapped herself in it and went out of the house.
She took her way through the woods, walking rapidly, quite regardless that the moisture from the damp earth was penetrating her thin shoes, not feeling the keenness of the wind, which was growing chill with the approach of evening.
The expression of her face changed; she was deadly pale still, but a look of resolution had settled over her features, and a naturally strong will had begun to assert itself.
Beyond the shrubbery that thick grove of evergreens extended to the very shore, and into their shadow Elizabeth walked with a determined step.
Evidently waiting for some one she paced up and down among the trees, the dry leaves rustling under her tread and making her start, as if she feared being surprised in that solitary spot by some curious wanderer.