ide the window was the darkness
of a winter evening, relieved somewhat by snow which covered the
broad garden. The darkness was spotted by red lamps, which
illuminated the street beyond the garden. Some months before,
Cara had opened a window overlooking that same garden; she did
this in the middle of the night to look at the first snow and at
the frost in the moonlight. Snow was lying there now, at the
close of winter, surely the last snow.

Much time passed. Miss Mary rose, and went to the narrow space
between the clump of plants and the window. Cara was standing
there at the very window, looking into the darkness, or at the
red spots made by lanterns, placed here and there in it. The
governess saw that a change had taken place in her. She was not
pale as before; on the contrary, a lively flush had come out on
her face. Her features were less rigid; instead of the nauseous
disgust and dull pain, an expression of deep thought had covered
them. As happened often when Cara was thinking deeply, the point
of her finger was in her mouth. Miss Mary felt relieved. "Cara is
no longer pale," thought she; "she has stopped over something;
she stands long in one place; she is recovering her balance; soon
she will be pacified completely, and will tell what has
happened."

"Do you not wish me to read to you?"

Cara shook her head, and said in a low voice:

"I want to sleep."

"To sleep! so early? But you are tired, of course. Very well,
dear. Lie down and rest. I will call Ludvika to open the bed. Or
no--I will do it myself. No one need make a noise here that would
prevent us from talking."

With great goodness and kindly grace, while arranging the bed
with a rustle of silk, and the waves of lace going through her
fingers, Miss Mary told vivaciously of many things which were
near and confidential, things always affecting Cara, and though
no answer came to her from beyond the green plants, her voice,
which sounded agreeably, scattered the gloom and silence of the
chamber.

Half an hour later the door to the drawing-room was opened
partly, and the voice of Irene said some words in English. Miss
Mary went to the door on tip-toe.

"Cara is sleeping already," whispered she; "we ought not to wake
her; she is a little unwell."

The door was closed slowly and in silence; some minutes later the
maid brought a tray in with tea and many dishes.

Soon after Malvina entered the room. She approached her
daughter's bed quietly, an