Corelli, Marie, 1855-1924 / 2008-11-25 00:00:00

Then sleep forsook my eyes; a dull throbbing
weight of pain encircled my head like a crown of thorns; nervous
terrors shook me from head to foot; fragments of my own musical
compositions hummed in my ears with wearying persistence--fragments
that always left me in a state of distressed conjecture; for I never
could remember how they ended, and I puzzled myself vainly over
crotchets and quavers that never would consent to arrange themselves
in any sort of finale. So the days went on; for Colonel Everard and
his wife, those days were full of merriment, sight-seeing, and
enjoyment. For me, though outwardly I appeared to share in the
universal gaiety, they were laden with increasing despair and
wretchedness; for I began to lose hope of ever recovering my once
buoyant health and strength, and, what was even worse, I seemed to
have utterly parted with all working ability. I was young, and up to
within a few months life had stretched brightly before me, with the
prospect of a brilliant career. And now what was I? A wretched
invalid--a burden to myself and to others--a broken spar flung with
other fragments of ship wrecked lives on the great ocean of Time,
there to be whirled away and forgotten.
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