iosity to
know the reason why.

After he had gone, Ephie was livelier than before, as long as she was
being teased about her pale, importunate admirer. Then, suddenly, she
pleaded a headache, and went to her own room.

Johanna, listening outside the door, concluded from the stillness that
her sister was asleep. But Ephie heard Johanna come and go. She could
not sleep, nor could she get Maurice's words out of her mind. He had
something important to say to her. What could it be? There was only one
important subject in the world for her now; and she longed for the hour
of his visit--longed, hoped, and was more than half afraid.

III.

Since her return to Leipzig, Ephie's spirits had gone up and down like
a barometer in spring. In this short time, she passed through more
changes of mood than in all her previous life. She learned what
uncertainty meant, and suspense, and helplessness; she caught at any
straw of hope, and, for a day on end, would be almost comforted; she
invented numberless excuses for Schilsky, and rejected them, one and
all. For she was quite in the dark about his movements; she had not
seen him since her return, and could hear nothing of him. Only the
first of the letters she had written to him from Switzerland had
elicited a reply, and he had left all the notes she had sent him, since
getting back, unanswered.

Her fellow-boarder, Mrs. Tully, was her only confidant; and that, only
in so far as this lady, knowing that what she called "a little romance"
was going on, had undertaken to enclose any letters that might arrive
during Ephie's absence. Johanna had no suspicions, or rather she had
hitherto had none. In the course of the past week, however, it had
become plain even to her blind, sisterly eyes that something was the
matter with Ephie. She could still be lively when she liked, almost
unnaturally lively, and especially in the company of Mrs. Tully and her
circle; but with these high spirits alternated fits of depression, and
once Johanna had come upon her in tears. Driven into a corner, Ephie
declared that Herr Becker had scolded her at her lesson; but Johanna
was not satisfied with this explanation; for formerly, the master's
blame or praise had left no impression on her little sister's mind.
Even worse than this, Ephie could now, on slight provocation, be
thoroughly peevish--a thing so new in her that it worried Johanna most
of all. The long walks of the summer had been given up; but Ep