This life she was living—was it really to be her life always? This wonderful land had opened up to her new vistas and new experiences. The people were, oh, so kind and good to her. It was all very interesting and no doubt worthy the efforts. But was this the land for her—for her, the last of her race?
She had been so enthusiastic in the morning. She had been looking forward to this little vacation for many days; and now, when it had come, when everything was just as she had wished it to be, she was not happy!
What had become of her dreams of intimate exchange of noble thoughts with dear friends? Where were her romantic fancies of a world of love, of glory and poetry? She knew not what these dreams and fancies might actually be, but she was sure they were not being realized now. Was her life’s horizon to be landlocked as was this rural home? Was her life’s goal to