For suddenly, without any warning, or a word of message, all my Lorna's signals ceased, which I had been accustomed to watch for daily, and as it were to feed upon them, with a glowing heart.

The first time I stood on the wooded crest, and found no change from yesterday, I could hardly believe my eyes, or thought at least that it must be some great mistake on the part of my love.

However, even that oppressed me with a heavy heart, which grew heavier, as I found from day to day no token.
Three times I went and waited long at the bottom of the valley, where now the stream was brown and angry with the rains of autumn, and the weeping trees hung leafless.

But though I waited at every hour of day, and far into the night, no light footstep came to meet me, no sweet voice was in the air; all was lonely, drear, and drenched with sodden desolation.

It seemed as if my love was dead, and the winds were at her funeral.
Once I sought far up the valley, where I had never been before, even beyond the copse where Lorna had found and lost her brave young cousin.
Following up the river channel, in shelter of the evening fog, I gained a corner within stone's throw of the last outlying cot.