“Well, Eva, did you—Why, my dear girl, what is the matter with you?”
Eva, who was lying sobbing on her bed, turned her head to the wall and went on sobbing.
“What is the matter, Eva? If you only knew how absurd you look!”
“No-no-thing!”
“Nonsense! People do not make such scenes as this for nothing.”
No answer.
“Come, my dear, as your affectionate sister, I really must ask what has happened to you.”
The tone was commanding, and half unconsciously Eva obeyed it. “Ernest!” she ejaculated.
“Well, what about Ernest? He is nothing to you, is he?”
“No—that is, yes. O, it is so dreadful! It was the letter;” and she touched a sheet of closely written paper that lay on the bed beside her.