lend her aid in the heavy task before her; but in the midst of her prayer
sleep overcame her, and her young bosom was already rising and falling in
regular breathing when she was roused by a visit from the lady Berenike.

Melissa suddenly beheld her at the head of the bed, in a flowing white
night-dress, with her hair unpinned, and holding a silver lamp in her
hand; and the girl involuntarily put up her arms as if to protect
herself, for she fancied that the daemon of madness stared out of those
large black eyes. But the unhappy woman's expression changed, and she
looked down kindly on Melissa. She quietly set the lamp on the table,
and then, as the cool nightbreeze blew in through the open window, to
which there was no shutter, she tenderly wrapped the white woolen blanket
round Melissa, and muttered to herself, "She liked it so."

Then she knelt down by the side of the bed, pressed her lips on the brow
of the girl, now fully awake, and said:

"And you, too, are fair to look upon. He will grant your prayer!"

Then she asked Melissa about her lover, her father, her mother, and at
last she, unexpectedly, asked her in a whisper:

"Your brother Alexander, the painter--My daughter, though in death,
inspired his soul with love. Yes, Korinna was dear to him. Her image
is living in his soul. Am I right? Tell me the truth!"

On this Melissa confessed how deeply the painter had been impressed by
the dead girl's beauty, and that he had given her his heart and soul with
a fervor of devotion of which she had never imagined him capable. And
the poor mother smiled as she heard it, and murmured, "I was sure of it."