le shadows of the sunset, to the crepuscular opalescence
again. Under any other conditions, she would have been content to sit
and muse alone with her grief--and Hugh. He was constantly present in
her thoughts. It was as though his spirit hovered near. She seemed to
hear him speak, to feel the touch of his hand upon her brow, soothing
her anguish, praying her to wait and be patient. Sometimes the
impression of his presence beside her was so poignant that she started
up from her chair and looked around the vast room, as though expecting
him to appear in the spirit beside her. And then realizing that the
illusions were born of her weakness, she would sink back exhausted, and
resume her gaze upon the restful distance.

Ena, her nurse, was very kind to her, leaving nothing undone for her
comfort, sitting most of the while beside her, and prattling of her own
youth and the Fatherland. And so, sure of the woman's growing interest
and affection, she slowly revealed the story of Konopisht Garden, her
share in it, and the events that had followed. Marishka could see that
the woman was greatly impressed by the story which lost no conviction
from the pallid lips which told it. And of her own volition, that night,
Ena promised the girl to reveal no word of her confidences, and gave
unreservedly the outward signs of her friendship for the tender creature
committed to her care. She had believed that the kindness of the Herr
Hauptmann had meant the beginnings of a romance. But she understood,
and aware of the sadness of the sick woman's thoughts, did what she
could to delay a meeting which she knew must be painful.

In reply to Marishka's questions, now, she was less reticent, and told
of the long years at Schloss Szolnok under the Barons Neudeck, father
and son, of the coming of Herr Hauptmann Goritz, and of the threat which
had hung over them for three years since the dreadful night when her
young master had been killed. There had been no heirs to the estate and
no one knew to whom the half-ruined Schloss belonged, but each month
money had arrived from Germany, and so she and Wilhelm Strohmeyer, her
man, and two other servants under orders from Germany, had remained. She
had lived here almost all her life. The people in the village a mile
away were the nearest human folk, and Baron Neudeck had not endeared
himself to them, for once he had beaten a farmer who had questioned the
Excellency's right to shoot upon his land. And so the co