Amid a group of trees, there stood a little hut that looked to be the hut of an old widower, for it appeared neglected, forsaken, sad.
Bernard gazed at this lonesome cottage and said: "Viola, I feel to-night that all my honors are empty.

They feel to me like a load crushing me down rather than a pedestal raising me up.

I am not happy.
I long for the solitude of those trees.

That decaying old house calls eloquently unto something within me.

How I would like to enter there and lay me down to sleep, free from the cares and divested of the gewgaws of the world." Viola was startled by these sombre reflections coming from Bernard.
She decided that something must be wrong.