A lady sits by the lamp, reading.

From time to time she looks out into the garden, and sees the white-robed figure of a young girl pacing slowly to and fro in the soft brightness of the moonlight on the lawn.

Sorrow and suspense have set their mark on the lady.

Not rivals only, but friends who formerly admired her, agree now that she looks worn and aged.

The more merciful judgment of others remarks, with equal truth, that her eyes, her hair, her simple grace and grandeur of movement have lost but little of their olden charms.