She was trying to think, but thoughts refused to come consecutively, and a dull annoyance at this inability to reason upon her position fretted her consciousness.

Not with impunity can the human mind surrender itself for half a year to unvaried brooding upon one vast misery; the neglected faculties revenge themselves by rusting, and will not respond when at length summoned.

For months Ida's thoughts had gone round and round about one centre of anguish, like a wailing bird circling over a ravaged nest.

The image of her mental state had been presented by an outward experience with which she became familiar.

Waking long before daylight, she would lie with her eyes directed to the little barred window, and watch till there came the first glimmer of dawn.