Page:Ernestus Berchtold or the Modern Œdipus.djvu/77

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ERNESTUS BERCHTOLD.
65

enquiries were numerous about her person, her voice. I cannot explain it, but I wished even from Julia’s dreams to aid the representation I had formed from her portrait of a being, who seemed even after life, to feel an interest in my fate. In the locket, there was a melancholy look about her dark blue eyes, that was rendered heavenly, by the soft smile playing upon her open tip. I had gazed upon it so often, that I had her image before me, even when far from home, but it was only distinct in the face, which appeared to be gazing on heaven, with the consciousness of having obtained a prayer for me. Since my sister’s dreams, it seemed as if I knew a mother’s care, and I often sighed, to think, that though thus thoughtful of me even in heaven, she did not think me worthy of enjoying her smile.


One morning I left my sister, and retired to the wild borders of the Brientz lake. The sun rose, and with its glittering ray painted on the water, the reflect-