st bearing, she declared that she would not bear such
insult and abuse, hastily packed her property, and returned to the Grieb
with a much larger amount of luggage than she had brought with her.

Sister Hyacinthe now ruled alone in the sickroom, and the calm face of
the nun, whose cap concealed hair already turning gray, exerted as
soothing an influence upon the patient as her low, pleasant voice. She
was the daughter of a knightly race, and had taken the veil from a deep
inward vocation, as one of the elect who, in following Christ, forget
themselves, in order to dedicate to her suffering neighbours all her
strength and the great love which filled her heart. They were her world,
and her sole pleasure was to satisfy the compassionate impulse in her own
breast by severe toil, by tender solicitude, by night watching, and by
exertions often continued to actual suffering. Death, into whose face she
had looked beside so many sickbeds, was to her a kind friend who held the
key of the eternal home where the Divine Bridegroom awaited her.

The events occurring in the world, whether peace reigned or the nations
were at war with one another, affected her only so far as they were
connected with her patient. Her thoughts and acts, all her love and
solicitude, referred solely to the invalid in her care.

The departure of Frau Lerch was a relief to her mind, and it seemed an
enigma that Barbara, whose beauty increased her interest, and whom the
physician had extolled as a famous singer, could have given her
confidence, in her days of health, to this woman.

Sister Hyacinthe's appearance beside her couch had at first perplexed
Barbara, because she had not asked for her; but the mere circumstance
that her lover had sent her rendered it easy to treat the nun kindly, and
the tireless, experienced, and invariably cheerful nurse soon became
indispensable.

On the whole, both the leech and Sister Hyacinthe could call Barbara a
docile patient, and she often subjected herself to a restraint irksome to
her vivacious temperament, because she felt how much gratitude she owed
to both.

Not until the fever reached its height did her turbulent nature assert
its full power, and the experienced disciple of the art of healing had
seen few invalids rave more wildly.

The delusions that tortured her were by no means varied, for all revolved
about the person of her imperial lover and her art. But under the most
careful nursing her strong constitut