g the invalid.

At last, towards morning, she fell asleep, overcome by fatigue and
groaning, and Mrs. Tallyai also sank down on the sofa to get a few
minutes' rest, when all at once the footman was heard beating the
gentlemen's coats in the corridor.

The two girls ran out eagerly and desired him not to make such a
noise, as the ladies had only just fallen asleep.

As the footman retreated with the coats, Sizike observed something
lying on the floor, and running over, picked up an open pocket-book,
on the outside of which was printed in large golden letters,
"Journal," and the initials "K. S."

Who could blame severely two young girls, when the journal of a young
man--not entirely without interest in their eyes--had fallen into
their hands, that they should be unable to withstand the temptation of
peeping just a very little into it? At all events it was very natural.
The two girls ran whispering and tittering behind a pillar, and
hurriedly turned over the leaves of the mysterious book. It was full
of verses; here and there dried flowers, or a forget-me-not of plaited
hair peeped out between the leaves, which they carefully replaced, and
amused themselves with reading the verses, stifling their laughter as
they gaily snatched the book out of each other's hands. Suddenly
Lina's eyes fell on some well-known lines. She looked again; they were
indeed the very same which she had read the day before in the Regelo,
with this slight difference, that they were not addressed to herself,
but to Julia Cs----, and instead of dark hair and eyes, these spoke of
forget-me-not eyes and golden hair; otherwise it was quite the
same--every angel and charmer in its place, the same heartaches, the
same readiness to die, and promises to meet in a better world!

Lina felt herself precisely in the situation of a person who accepts a
compliment, and then perceives it was intended for another. She
hastily closed the Journal and retreated to her room, to hide the
blush of shame which covered her face, as if a hundred eyes were
turned upon her. For once in her life, a feeling of vanity had crossed
her heart; but now she was severely punished for it: all those
beautiful similes and sweet words had not been written for her at
all, but only translated from fair to dark! She was completely
disenchanted.

The sun had already risen, when one of the messengers who had been
despatched on Sandor's traces returned, with the consolatory news that
he ha