If anything could have cured the rankling wounds of Falkner's mind, it was the excellence of the young Elizabeth. Again and again he repeated to himself, that, brought up among the worldly and cold, her noblest qualities would either have been destroyed, or produced misery. In contributing to her happiness and goodness, he hoped to make some atonement for the past. There were many periods when remorse, and regret, and self-abhorrence held powerful sway over him: he was, indeed, during the larger portion of his time, in the fullest sense of the word--miserable. Yet there were gleams of sunshine he had never hoped to experience again--and he readily gave way to this relief; while he hoped that the worst of his pains were over. In this idea he was egregiously mistaken. He was allowed to repose for a few years. But the cry of blood was yet unanswered--the evil he had committed unatoned; though they did not approach him, the consequences of his crime were full of venom and bitterness to others--and, unawares and unexpectedly, he was brought to view and feel the wretchedness of which he was the sole author. CHAPTER VII Three more years passed thus over the head of the young Elizabeth; when, during the warm summer months, the wanderers established themselves for a season at Baden. They had hitherto lived in great seclusion--and Falkner continued to do so; but he was not sorry to find his adopted child noticed and courted by various noble ladies, who were charmed by the pure complexion--the golden hair, and spirited, though gentle, manners of the young English girl.