"When I got up in the morning my head whirled, and yellow and green lights danced before my eyes.
"Martha clasped her hands in horror at my appearance, and Robert, who was sitting again for a change in a sofa-corner, and once again sending forth clouds of smoke all around, remarked--
"'Have you been crying or dancing all night?'
"'Dancing,' I replied, 'on the Brocken, with other witches.'
"'One positively cannot get a sensible word out of the girl,' he said, shaking his head.
"'As you cry into the wood,' replied I.
"'Oh! I am as still as a mouse already,' he remarked, laughing, 'else I shall get such a dish of aspersion to begin the day with, as I have never swallowed in all my life.'
"Martha looked at me reproachfully, and I ran out into the park where it was darkest and hid my burning face in the cool mass of leaves.
"I was near crying.
"'So this is my fate,' I moaned, 'to be misunderstood by the whole world, to stand there alone and despised though my heart is full of passionate love, to wither unheeded in some corner, while every other being finds its companion and stills its longings in an ardent embrace.'