Her stations there exhausted her. She would return from them with dark circles under her eyes, her lips colourless, the line of her profile sharpened and accentuated.
Stella felt a great pity for her, a great longing to be of help to her. She tried to persuade her to cut short her vigils in her mother's room.
"You ought not to stay so long. It is bad for you."
"No, no," Anna answered. "If you knew the peace I find there."
"But a young girl like you ought to wish for the excitements of life, not the peace."
"There are no more flowers for Margaret," quoted Anna, going to the window and looking towards the sea.
During the whole month of June, a lovely month at Sorrento, where the mornings are warm and the evenings fresh, Anna fell away visibly in health and spirits. Laura and Stella did not interfere with her, but it saddened them to witness her decline. Stella's anxiety was almost motherly. When she saw Anna's pale, peaked face, when she noticed her transparent hands, a voice from within called to her that she must do something for the poor girl.
One day she said, "Signor Dias has promised to come here for a visit. But he's delaying a little. Perhaps he'll come for the bathing season."
"You will see. He'll not come at all," replied Anna, her eyes suddenly filling with tears.
"He's so kind, and he has promised. He will come."