The Countess Itha 227

cent and knew no care; and over whole
acres lay the bloom of the ling, and nothing
more lovely grows on earthly hills. Through
breaks in the woodland she saw afar the
Alpine heights, and the bright visionary
peaks of snow floating in the blue air like
glimpses of heaven.

But it was a bitter life in the winter-tide,
when the forest fretted and moaned, and
snow drifted about the shelter, and the rocks
were jagged with icicles, and the stones of
the brook were glazed with cold, and the
dark came soon and lasted long. She had
no fire, but, by God’s good providence, in
this cruel season the great stag came to her
at dusk, and crouched in the hollow of the
rock beside her, and the lights on his antlers
lit up the poor house, and the glow of
his body and his pleasant breath gave her
warmth.

Here, then, dead to the world, dead to all
she loved most dearly, Itha consecrated her-
self body and soul to God for the rest of her
earthly years. If she suffered as the wild
children of nature suffer, she was free at least
from the cares and sorrows with which men
embitter each other’s existence. Here she