Life was returning to her, but it was not the same.

Out of those days there had come to her a gentle dignity, a strengthening and refining.

The face, now pale and drawn, had lost its foolishness.

Under the thin, white hair, and in spite of its deep lines, it had grown younger.

A great patience, a child- like thoughtfulness had come into the quiet eyes.
She was sitting by the window, her hands folded.