flashed in them, but, as if reminded of something, she walked up to her,—and then she stopped, timid and undecided. It occurred to Lucy that she had something to tell her . . . perhaps to thank her, or perhaps to give some message from the dead man, but the woman only turned back to the grave, where she knelt down and made the sign of the cross . . . then she arose again. . . . She looked at Lucy once more,—again her eyes flashed and something hovered upon her lips,—but, as before, she turned timidly away, and slowly walked out of the cemetery.
Lucy knelt down at the head of the grave. Then, at last, a sea of tears coursed down from her feverish eyes . . . . they kept on flowing as if her whole soul had been changed into tears.
Then all within her became quiet again,—the swollen black waves slowly subsided,—they only mourned like a melancholy tune for something forever lost. . . .
