Benedict obeyed her in everything. He spent his whole evening over these funeral preparations and did not return to the house until eleven o'clock. He found Helen's room transformed, a double row of candles burning around the bed. Helen was sitting on the bed and looking at Karl.
Even as she no longer wept she now no longer prayed. What had she left to ask of Heaven now that Karl was dead? Towards midnight her mother and sister, who had been praying, and who understood her calmness no more than Benedict did, went to their own rooms. Helen embraced them sadly but without tears and asked that the little child might be brought, so that she might kiss him too. She held him some time in her arms and then gave him back to his mother. When she was left alone with Benedict she said to him:
"Pray take some hours' rest, either here or at home; do not be uneasy about me. I will be down, dressed, and sleep beside him."
"Sleep!" said Benedict, more and more amazed.
"Yes," said Helen simply, "I feel tired. While he was alive, I could not sleep. Now—" She did not finish the sentence.
"When shall I come back?" asked Benedict.
"When you please," said Helen. "Let it be about eight in the morning."
Then, looking through the open casement towards the sky, she said:
"I think there will be a storm to-night."
Benedict pressed her hand and was going, but she called him back.