in. If the
dining-room was empty, other unprecedented demands were made upon
Henrica, for then her aunt, who could not endure to be alone a moment,
was sick and miserable, and she was obliged to nurse her. That she
gladly and readily served the suffering, she wrote, she had sufficiently
proved by her attendance on the village children when they had the
smallpox, but if her aunt could not sleep she was compelled to watch
beside her, hold her hand, and listen until morning as she moaned,
whined and prayed, sometimes cursing herself and sometimes the
treacherous world. She, Henrica, had come to the house strong and well,
but so much disgust and anger, such constant struggling to control
herself had robbed her of her health.

The young girl had written until midnight. The letters became more and
more irregular and indistinct, the lines more crooked, and with the last
words: "My head, my poor head! You will see that I am losing my senses.
I beseech you, I beseech you, my dear, stern father, take me home. I
have again heard something about Anna--" her eyes grew dim, her pen
dropped from her hand, and she fell back in the chair unconscious.

There she lay, until the last laugh and sound of rattling glass had died
away below, and her aunt's guests had left the house.

Denise, the cameriera, noticed the light in the room, entered, and after
vainly endeavoring to rouse Henrica, called her mistress.

The latter followed the maid, muttering as she ascended the stairs:

"Fallen asleep, found the time hang heavy--that's all! She might have
been lively and laughed with us! Stupid race! 'Men of butter,' King
Philip says. That wild Lamperi was really impertinent to-night, and the
abbe said things--things--"

The old lady's large eyes were sparkling vinously, and her fan waved
rapidly to and fro to cool the flush on her cheeks.

She now stood opposite to Henrica, called her, shook her and sprinkled
her with perfumed water from the large shell, set in gold, which hung as
an essence bottle from her belt. When her niece only muttered incoherent
words, she ordered the maid to bring her medicine-chest.

Denise had gone and Fraulein Van Hoogstraten now perceived Henrica's
letter, raised it close to her eyes, read page after page with
increasing indignation, and at last tossed it on the floor and tried to
shake her niece awake; but in vain.

Meantime Belotti had been informed of Henrica's serious illness and, as
he liked the young gir