That was not true.

He had loved her, Veronica; they had known it, and had taken advantage of it.

She did not blame them for that.

She had been so fond of him,--she knew that she should soon have loved him,--and the dream swung back upon itself, and she was again standing beside the fire in the yellow room, with him so near to her.

And after she awoke, she shed tears.
On that morning, after eleven o'clock, Matilde came to Veronica's room, bringing a piece of needlework with her, and she sat down to stay a while.