ark eyes, and
with serious interest, too, though all her words were about frivolity.
At length she heaped the fire with wood, drew the heavy silken curtains
close; for I had been anxious hitherto to keep them open, so that I
might see the pale moon mounting the skies, as I used to see her--the
same moon--rise from behind the Kaiser Stuhl at Heidelberg; but the
sight made me cry, so Amante shut it out. She dictated to me as a nurse
does to a child.

'Now, madame must have the little kitten to keep her company,' she
said, 'while I go and ask Marthon for a cup of coffee.' I remember that
speech, and the way it roused me, for I did not like Amante to think I
wanted amusing by a kitten. It might be my petulance, but this
speech--such as she might have made to a child--annoyed me, and I said
that I had reason for my lowness of spirits--meaning that they were not
of so imaginary a nature that I could be diverted from them by the
gambols of a kitten. So, though I did not choose to tell her all, I
told her a part; and as I spoke, I began to suspect that the good
creature knew much of what I withheld, and that the little speech about
the kitten was more thoughtfully kind than it had seemed at first. I
said that it was so long since I had heard from my father; that he was
an old man, and so many things might happen--I might never see him
again--and I so seldom heard from him or my brother. It was a more
complete and total separation than I had ever anticipated when I
married, and something of my home and of my life previous to my
marriage I told the good Amante; for I had not been brought up as a
great lady, and the sympathy of any human being was precious to me.

Amante listened with interest, and in return told me some of the events
and sorrows of her own life. Then, remembering her purpose, she set out
in search of the coffee, which ought to have been brought to me an hour
before; but, in my husband's absence, my wishes were but seldom
attended to, and I never dared to give orders.

Presently she returned, bringing the coffee and a great large cake.

'See!' said she, setting it down. 'Look at my plunder. Madame must eat.
Those who eat always laugh. And, besides, I have a little news that
will please madame.' Then she told me that, lying on a table in the
great kitchen, was a bundle of letters, come by the courier from
Strasburg that very afternoon: then, fresh from her conversation with
me, she had hastily untied the string