Sister! since I met thee last,
O’er thy brow a change hath past;
In the softness of thine eyes,
Deep and still a shadow lies;
From thy voice there thrills a tone,
Never to thy childhood known;
Through thy soul a storm hath moved,
——Gentle sister, thou hath loved.
Overtasked, weary and exhausted by her long efforts, Carolyn Clifton sought her own chamber, and threw herself, all splendidly arrayed as she was, upon her bed. She had no fear of interruption, for it was not yet daybreak, and her woman would not be up for several hours. So she was surprised, and not at all pleased when a gentle rap came to the door. She would not answer or move to let the rapper know that she was awake. She was weary, weary with acting for one night, and needed rest. But after the unknown had rapped two or three times, the door was gently opened, and the sweet voice of Zuleime was heard to say—
“Sister, I know you are not asleep—will you let me come in?” And without waiting for an answer, she entered, and softly closed the door, and came to the bedside, saying—“I heard you when you came up and threw yourself down on the bed, and I knew you were not asleep—let me stay with you, dear sister, won’t you?”