A Bride of the Plains by Emma Orczy

And now the shadows of evening were slowly invading the plains. The autumn wind, lulled for a time to rest with the setting of the sun, had sprung up in angry gusts, lashing up clouds from the southwest and sending them to tear along and efface the last vestige of the evening crimson glow.

Elsa and Andor had both remained quite still after Klara left them; yet Elsa--like all simple creatures who feel acutely--was longing to run and let the far horizon, the distant unknown land, wrap and enfold her while she thought things out for herself, for indeed this real world--the world of men and women, of passions and hatred and love--was nothing but a huge and cruel puzzle. She longed for solitude--the solitude which the plains can offer in such absolute completeness--because her heart was heavy and she felt that if she were all alone she might ease the weight on her heart in a comforting flow of tears.