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 charming spirit. I am certain that Karla need have had no apprehension that Havel would recognize her at that time even if they had met in full daylight. If he yet retained her in his thought, it was certainly not in the likeness of her present existence—she who in the rags of penury at eventide sought for shelter in Havel's little outhouse. Nor did her eye when inflamed by passion burn with half the brilliance which now adorned it—now when within her the spark of knowledge was enkindled and she knew that what she felt was the very truth. Karla on her stony path reached at length those heights where one learns to forgive much because one has received much. She was already contented with her destiny. It appeared to her part of the course of Nature, to repine would have been as reasonable as to look for pomegranate fruit on willow-trees.

It was a March day in spring, when it is almost possible to see in the heart of Nature the yearning for active life. The green leaflet does not yet sprout, but every breath shows how it feels within itself the power of youthful germination. The first sun of spring smiles upon the earth and the earth to prove that it has understood smiles with the first spring violets. Beyond the city and in the city you encounter the poor who meet you with bundles of these blue-eyed offsprings of renovated earth.

Karla also went to gather violets, not that she might offer them for sale in the streets but lo leave them as presents with those families who by their gifts had hidden her poverty from the world. Each spring she paid her thanks in this way and to-day she had just completed her round of visits and held the last posy in her hands. This was destined for Havel's little daughter and was perhaps more beautiful than any of those she had given away. Karla already congratulated herself on the delight which she would afford the little girl when she placed it in her little hand and looked once again into the little eyes which were as deep a blue as the violets themselves.

A gentleman met Karla and pressed her to sell him the flower, offering her some silver money. And much surprised was he, when Karla said it was her last but to-morrow he might have any one he chose, this one, however, she refused to sell.

Karla was rewarded for her heroism: the offer he made for that little present was tempting, and poverty finds it a hard matter not to stretch forth its hand for money, but yet she would not at that moment at any cost have forgone the pleasure which she promised herself when she made a present of it to the child.