Is Grace with her yet ?" "Yes, Grace insists on remaining till morning.

There is no necessity, though, for she will not awake." Kate gathered up the folds of her rich ball-dress, and ran up the polished oaken stair, nodding adieu.

Not to her own room, however, but to that of the seamstress.
The small chamber was dimly lighted by a lamp turned low.

By the bedside sat Grace, wrapped in a shawl; on the pillow lay the white face of Agnes Darling, calm in her slumber, but colourless as the pillow itself.
Kate bent over her, and Grace arose at her entrance.

It was such a contrast; the stately, beautiful girl, with jewelled flowers in her hair, her costly robe trailing the carpetless floor, the perfume of her dress and golden hair scenting the room, and the wan little creature, so wasted and pale, lying asleep on the low bed.