“I’m tired, Mariana. Shall we go to bed?”
So they rose and went together to the bedroom, which had a chilly air in it after the cosy room. When at last Rosalie was in bed, Mariana smoothed the coverlet and tucked the bed-clothes in.
“Yes; I’ll put it on this table. But there is nothing to fear. An easy conscience may sleep well here, secure from harm.” She moved away, but after a few steps returned. She stooped over the bed and kissed Rosalie’s brow. “Good-night, little one. Sleep peacefully till daybreak.” And then she went away.
Big tears rose in Rosalie’s eyes, for the words had awakened in her a terrible longing for love and companionship, stronger and more powerful than ever Mariana, in her terribly set existence, could ever know how to give. For Rosalie felt that she was even now the stronger of the two, and wept for Mariana’s solitude as well as her own.
The next morning the sensation of waking in such fine surroundings had lost all its charm. Rosalie awoke with a dull leaden pain at her heart, that gained rather than lost power as she recalled one by one the articles of furniture in this new home. The long mirror had lost its fascination; so had the silken bed-hangings. She did not jump out of bed, but rather lay there idly, with no wish to rise; oppressed with such a heaviness that to lie still seemed the only ease from all those aches and pains that twine around a heavy heart. As the grey light of early morning brightened and broadened, she curled in among the bed-clothes, and shut her eyes.
“If only they would let me lie here, and not disturb me! I would never disturb them, I’m sure. I feel so weary that the least exertion is the biggest effort.”
Then she lay very still for a long time, till at last Mariana knocked at the door and opened it, bringing the customary cup of tea.
“I feel so tired, Mariana,” Rosalie said, “and there’s nothing to do. Don’t you think I might spend the day in bed?”
“But he would never know unless you told. I am tired, really, Mariana. I could just lie still, and never move an inch all day.”
“That does not enter into the consideration of the rule. You must get up, or you will be shaken out when the bed is made.”
So very reluctantly Rosalie rose, with a day of nothingness and imprisonment before her. She was dressed in about the same time as yesterday, had breakfast served in the same room in the same way, and then walked out on to the corridor aimlessly and disconsolately.