doctor if she doesn't get better."

"No, no," cried the child, sitting up in bed and looking as though she
were going to cry. "I'm not ill, mother darling, I'm not ill." She
threw her arms round her mother and pressed her head against her
breast.

The schoolmaster stepped up to the bed and laid his hand on the child's
head. No, _she_ wasn't feverish, but he began to feel so as soon as he
came near that beautiful woman. He busied himself with Rosa; what was
the matter with her, wouldn't she soon come back to him?

Rosa nodded, and then raising her head from her mother's breast, she
pushed her tangled hair away from her face, which looked dazzlingly
white in spite of the freckles. Even Boehnke, in his agitation, noticed
how bright her dull eyes had become.

"She dreams so much," said her mother sadly. "She frightens us by
screaming aloud in her sleep. And she talks in her sleep as well;
Marianna is really terrified. Oh, those awful dreams!" She sighed.

But the schoolmaster did not inquire any further into the matter.
Little Rosa's dreams did not interest [Pg 78] him in the slightest, all
he wanted to do was to give Mrs. Tiralla a proof of his devotion.

"Would the Pani like to borrow some of my books?" he inquired. "I shall
be very pleased to bring some." And then wishing to give her a hint of
how he understood and pitied her, he took heart and added, "If people
live such a lonely life as the Pani does, and are so un----" he wanted
to say "unhappy," or "so little understood," but he faltered, and his
veiled eyes looked longingly at her. He did not know how it was, but he
always lost his self-possession when he was near her.

She must have understood him in spite of his faltering, for she sighed
and said, "Ah, yes, Mr. Tiralla doesn't care much for reading. He eats,
drinks, sleeps, and----" she also faltered and blushed. And then she
gave him a long look out of her black eyes, so that his heart stood
still. "I shall be very grateful to you if you'll lend me some books,"
she continued in a soft voice. "Mr. Tiralla doesn't like to spend money
on them. Oh, I'm so fond of reading beautiful tales, sentimental ones."

The man was in the seventh heaven. So she wanted books? That meant that
he would often have a chance of coming to see her. For he would take
good care not to give Rosa the books; he would bring them himself, and
never more than one at a time. "I'll bring you some," he said,
overjoyed.

"Oh, not so loud,