It might be--and the solace would be worth a world--that Hilda, knowing nothing of the past night's calamity, would greet her friend with a sunny smile, and so restore a portion of the vital warmth, for lack of which her soul was frozen.

But could Miriam, guilty as she was, permit Hilda to kiss her cheek, to clasp her hand, and thus be no longer so unspotted from the world as heretofore.
"I will never permit her sweet touch again," said Miriam, toiling up the staircase, "if I can find strength of heart to forbid it.

But, O! it would be so soothing in this wintry fever-fit of my heart.

There can be no harm to my white Hilda in one parting kiss.

That shall be all!" But, on reaching the upper landing-place, Miriam paused, and stirred not again till she had brought herself to an immovable resolve.
"My lips, my hand, shall never meet Hilda's more," said she.
Meanwhile, Hilda sat listlessly in her painting-room.