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 tance through her black lorgnette, pointed out to her the villages, the roads, and the summits.

She looked about her with dim eyes. There they were, Ještěd, Řip,and Milešovka. They stood out a dull blue against the ruddy sky.

And the trees, black and monotonous, passed by and disappeared, one by one.

A thin layer of dust from the road lay upon her cheeks, and she felt it on her eyelashes. “I will wash it off in a few hours,” she thought.

Then a light opening appeared in the distance. She walked and walked, and the opening kept growing.

Finally the avenue was behind her. A broad plain stretched out before her. “There is that valley,—Vysočany, Libeň, Prague,” she thought.

The red glow from the sky quivered on the yellow waves of the grain fields. Here were the acres of rape, in which late blooms