The moon peeped in over the top of the tall pines, but it only stared at her, indifferent.

It seemed to be looking for somebody else.
Suddenly, and intensely to her own surprise, she fell into a passionate fit of weeping.

There was no reason for it, and it was altogether so unlike her.

But for quite a while she was unable to control it.
Gradually, and of their own accord, her sobs lessened, and she was able to wipe her eyes and take stock of herself in the long glass.

She wondered for the moment whether it was really her own reflection that she saw there or that of some ghostly image of her mother.