It was gone.

The reign of silence was unbroken.

Perhaps it had been a fancy.

Yet she thought it was the whinny of a horse she knew.
Rotha pulled back the sash and returned to her bed.

How long and heavy were the hours till morning! Would the daylight never dawn?
or was the blackness that rested in her own heart to lie forever over all the earth?
But it came at last--the fair and gracious morning of another day came to Rotha even as it always has come to the weary watcher, even as it always will come to the heartsore and heavy-laden, however long and black the night.
The girl rose at daybreak, and then she began to review the late turn of events from a practical standpoint.
Assuming the woman's word to be true, in what respect was the prospect different for Mrs.Garth's disclosure?
Rotha had to confess to herself that it was widely different.