"This is the new lady's bed, this best one in the corner here by the fire," old Hecate explained, pointing to a pallet that, in addition to its dried leaves and warm blankets, was graced with clean sheets and pillow-cases.
Sybil thanked the old woman for her favor; and being very weary, took off her upper garments and laid down to rest, committed herself to the kind care of Heaven, and soon sank into a deep sleep, that lasted until morning.
CHAPTER XI.
RAPHAEL.
| I might call him |
| Something divine, for nothing natural |
| I ever saw so noble.—Shakespeare. |
When she woke up, the sun was streaming in at the unshaded windows, and by its blaze of light she saw that two of the women had left the room, and left no one with her except Gentiliska.
The girl was up, and was making what shift she could to wash her face with the aid of a tin basin, a stone ewer, and a crash towel, all of which, for want of a wash-stand, were placed upon the bare floor.
When she had finished washing, she carefully emptied the contents of the basin out of the window, and refilled it again with fresh water for Sybil. Then, happening to turn around, she discovered that her guest was awake.
"You rested well," she said, with a smile.