fresh snow, and, between them, flower-pots filled with luxuriant
plants, might be seen behind the glittering window-panes. Although
there was nothing very peculiar about the house, which had but two
stories, yet nobody passed by without looking up to the windows with
a reverential and inquisitive air, and he who only thought he could
discover behind the panes the fugitive shadow of a human being, made
at once a deep and respectful bow, and a proud and happy smile
overspread his features.

And still, we repeat, there was nothing very peculiar about the
house. Its outside was plain and modest, and the inside was equally
so. The most profound silence prevailed in the small hall, the floor
of which had been sprinkled with fresh white sand. A large spotted
cat--truly beautiful animal--lay not far from the front door on a
soft, white cushion, and played gracefully and gently with the ball
of white yarn that had just fallen from the woman sitting at the
window while she was eagerly engaged in knitting. This woman, in her
plain and unassuming dress, seemed to be a servant of the house, but
at all events a servant in whom entire confidence was reposed, as
was indicated by the large bunch of keys, such as the lady of the
house or a trusted housekeeper will carry, which hung at her side.
An expression of serene calmness rendered her venerable features
quite attractive, and a graceful smile played on her thin and
bloodless lips as she now dropped her knitting upon her lap, and,
with her body bent forward, commenced watching the merry play of the
cat on the cushion. Suddenly the silence was interrupted by a loud
and shrill scream, and a very strange-sounding voice uttered a few
incoherent words in English. At the same time a door was opened
hastily, and another woman appeared--just as old, just as kind-
looking, and with as mild and serene features as the one we have