Take it--but do not look at me like that any longer, for I cannot bear it!" "I do not want it," said her sister, but not sharply; then, looking down, she asked in a low voice: "Did the Roman keep the violets ?" "He kept--no, Klea--I will not tell you a lie! He flung them over the house, and said such rough things as he did it, that I was frightened and turned my back upon him quickly, for I felt the tears coming into my eyes.

What have you to do with the Roman?
I feel so anxious, so frightened--as I do sometimes when a storm is gathering and I am afraid of it.

And how pale your lips are! that comes of long fasting, no doubt--eat now, as much as you can.

But Klea! why do you look at me so--and look so gloomy and terrible?
I cannot bear that look, I cannot bear it!" Irene sobbed aloud, and her sister went up to her, stroked her soft hair from her brow, kissed her kindly, and said: "I am not angry with you, child, and did not mean to hurt you.

If only I could cry as you do when clouds overshadow my heart, the blue sky would shine again with me as soon as it does with you.