The shades of evening grew heavier and heavier; soon the farm lay in complete darkness, and the woman could distinguish nothing. Her eyes smarted as she stepped back from the window. She felt tired to death.
Then she heard her husband call to Marianna, as he came in from the fields, to bring him something to eat and drink. That drove her on. Yes, he should have something to eat and drink--but from her hand.
"Hi, where are you all? Sophia, Rosa, there's a postcard," shouted Mr. Tiralla.
Doors banged. Then a jubilant cry was heard from Rosa. "He's coming, he's coming. Mikolai is coming to-morrow afternoon."
To-morrow? Already? The listening woman shuddered with terror; it must be done then. Putting her trembling hands into her pocket, she got hold of a little box, and in the little box was----
Clenching her teeth together she went downstairs. She wanted to go into the yard, but whilst flitting through the passage she heard her husband and Rosa talking together in the sitting-room.
"Where's your mother?" Mr. Tiralla was asking. Call her; she's to come. I'm so happy."
"She won't come," answered Rosa timidly.
"Why not?"
"Because she has locked herself into her room. Oh, father, I believe she's not well."