Oh, Gretchen! Gretchen! sweetest wife a man ever called his! and yet I forgot you, darling--forgot that you had ever lived! May heaven forgive me for I could not help it; I forgot everything.

Where are you, Cherry?
It's getting so dark and cold, and Gretchen is not here--I think you must take me home.
Jerrie took him back to the hotel, where he kept his room for three days, and then they went to Gretchen's grave beside her mother, which Jerrie had found after some little search and enquiry.

Here Arthur stood like a statue, holding fast to Jerrie, and gazing down upon the neglected grave, on which clumps of withered grass were growing and blowing in the November wind.
'Gretchen is not here in this place,' he said mournfully, with a shake of his head.

'She couldn't rest there a moment, for she liked everything beautiful and bright, and this is like the Potter's field.

But we'll put up a monument for her, and make the place attractive; and by and by, when she is tired of wandering about, she may come back and rest when she sees what we have done, and knows that we have been here.