Perhaps she was saved something by this move; perhaps not.
She did not see the beam of joy sparkling in his eye as he greeted Ermentrude; but she could not but mark the heaviness of his step as he passed them by and wandered away into the shadows.
And that she understood.

Ermentrude had not smiled upon him.

To him, the moment had brought pain.
It was enough.

Now she knew.
But why had not Ermentrude smiled?
* * * * * A dormitory lighted only by the moon! Two beds close together; in one a form of noble proportions, and in the other the meagre figure of a girl almost buried from sight among pillows and huddled-up blankets.

Both are quiet save for an occasional shudder which shakes the bed of the latter.
Ermentrude lies like the dead, though the moonlight falls full upon her face blanching it to the aspect of marble.