child, and Els knew that Frau Christine had been a dear friend of the
dead woman, that Eva clung to her like a second mother, and that nothing
could reach her sister from her honest heart which would not benefit her.
Nor was she mistaken, for the warm, affectionate manner in which the
matron greeted the young girl restored her composure; nay, when Fran
Christine was obliged to go, because her time was claimed by important
duties, she would gladly have detained her.

When Eva, in a calmer mood than before, at last entered the hall where
her mother's body now lay in a white silk shroud on the snowy satin
pillows, as she was to be placed before the altar for the service of
consecration on the morrow, she was again overwhelmed with all the
violence of the deepest grief; nay, the burning anguish of her
soul expressed itself so vehemently that the abbess, who had returned
whilst the sisters were still taking leave of their Aunt Christine, did
not succeed in soothing her until, drawing her aside, she whispered:
"Remember our saint, child. He called everything, even the sorest agony,
'Sister Sorrow'. So you, too, must greet sorrow as a sister, the
daughter of your heavenly Father. Remember the supreme, loving hand
whence it came, and you will bear it patiently."

Eva nodded gratefully, and when grief threatened to overpower her she
thought of the saint's soothing words, "Sister Sorrow," and her heart
grew calmer.

Els knew how much the emotions of the previous nights must have wearied
her, and had permitted her to share the vigil beside the corpse only
because she believed that she would be unable to resist sleep. She had
slipped a pillow between her back and that of the tall, handsome chair
which she had chosen for a seat, but Eva disappointed her expectation;