As it was, the strong tree was impotent to return her embrace; its cold bark had no response for the caress of her cheek; the north wind that howled, the trees that swayed, the dead leaves that rustling fled, and the stream that murmured under its ice, gave but drear companionship.

Had she yielded her mind to their influence, the desires of her heart might have been numbed to a transient despair more nearly akin to a virtuous resignation to circumstance than the revolt that was now rampant within her.

She did not yield; she was not now observing them; they only effected upon her inattentive senses an impression of misery which fed the strength of revolt.
A minute or two more and the recumbent position had become unendurable as too passive to correspond with the inward energy.

She clambered back, and, standing upon level ground, turned, facing the width of the bare clearing and the rough buildings on it, and looked toward the downward slope and the wild lake, whose cold breath of water was agitated by the wind.

The sky was full of cloud.
She stood up with folded arms, strength and energy in the stillness of her attitude.