The fan still moved in her hand in the direction where her father's once living body now lay dead.

At length she resolved that he slept, for if he were dead what would become of her?
After days and nights of watching amid such sorrow, sleep fell upon her.

In that exposed, bitterly cold house, the palm-leaf fan in her hand, Kunda Nandini rested her head upon her arm, more beauteous than the lotus-stalk, and slept; and in her sleep she saw a vision.

It seemed as if the night were bright and clear, the sky of a pure blue--that glorious blue when the moon is encircled by a halo.

Kunda had never seen the halo so large as it seemed in her vision.