Page:The grandmother; a story of country life in Bohemia.pdf/106

100 But all danger was not yet over. Victorka was around again, walked about the yard, but did not seem like herself. She spoke to no one, did not notice any one, and her expression seemed confused. The blacksmith's wife comforted the parents by saying that this, too, would in time be overcome; and she did not think it necessary that she should watch by her any longer. Victorka's sister Mary slept with her again as before. The first night, when the girls were alone, Mary sat down on Victorka's bed and with a loving voice,—she is a very good soul,—asked her why she was so strange and what ailed her. Victorka looked at her but made no reply.

"You see, sister, I want to tell you something, but I am afraid lest you be angry." Victorka shook her head saying: " Say what you wish, Mary.

"The evening before the soldiers left," began Mary; but hardly had she finished the last word, when Victorka seized her by the hand and quickly asked: "The soldiers went away, and where?"

"I do not know where they went."

"Thank God," said Victorka heaving a deep sigh and falling back upon her pillow.

"Now listen, Victorka, and do not be offended with me; I know you cannot endure that dark soldier, and that you will blame me for speaking to him."

"You spoke to him!" cried Victorka rising again.

"I could not help it, he begged me so to listen to him: but I did not look at him once. While you were so ill he used to come near the house; but