surroundings in a heaven that must be won by the endurance of pain.
Their complacent smiles seemed meant for her anguish, and she turned
from the picture in displeasure, and went on.

She was going back to her sister on the terrace, and she was going to
kneel once more beside the dear head of the man she had loved, and to
say one last prayer before his face was covered for ever. At the thought
she felt that she needed no rest again, for the vision drew her to the
sorrowful presence of its reality, and she could not have stopped again
if she had wished to. She must go straight on, on to the staircase, up
the long flight of steps, through the lonely corridors, and out at hist
to the moonlit terrace where Inez was waiting. She went forward in a
dream, without pausing. Since she had freed her father she had a right
to go back to her grief. But as she went along, lightly and quickly, it
seemed beyond her own belief that she should have found strength for
what she had done that night. For the strength of youth is elastic and
far beyond its own knowledge. Dolores had reached the last passage that
led out upon the terrace, when she heard hurrying footsteps behind her,
and a woman in a cloak slipped beside her, walking very easily and
smoothly. It was the Princess of Eboli. She had left the dwarf, after
frightening him into giving up his search for Dolores, and she was
hastening to Don John's rooms to make sure that the jester had not
deceived her or been himself deceived in some way she could not
understand.

Dolores had lost her cloak in the hall, and was bareheaded, in her court
dress. The Princess recognized her in the gloom and stopped her.

"I have looked for you everywhere," she said. "Why did you run away from
me before?"