Calmly Anna continues to sleep, the lights in the girandoles shedding a mysterious paleness over the scene.  To the eye that scans only the exterior of life, how dazzling!  Like a refulgent cloud swelling golden in the evening sky, how soon it passes away into darkness and disappointment!  Suddenly there appears, like a vision in the chamber, the stately figure of a female.  Advancing slowly to the bed-side, for a minute she stands contemplating the sleeping beauty before her.  A dark, languishing eye, an aquiline nose, beautifully-cut mouth, and a finely-oval face, is revealed by the shadow in which she stands.  “How willingly,” she mutters, raising the jewelled fingers of her right hand to her lips, as her eyes become liquid with emotion, and her every action betokens one whose very soul is goaded with remorse, “would I exchange all these worldly pleasures for one single day in peace of mind.”  She lays aside her mantle, and keeps her eyes fixed upon the object before her.  A finely-rounded shoulder and exactly-developed bust is set off with a light satin boddice or corsage, cut low, opening shawl-fashion at the breast, and relieved with a stomacher of fine Brussels lace.  Down the edges are rows of small, unpolished pearls, running into points.  A skirt of orange-colored brocade, trimmed with tulle, and surrounded with three flounces, falls, cloud-like, from her girdle, which is set with cameos and unpolished pearls.  With her left hand she raises slightly her skirts, revealing the embroidered gimps of a white taffeta underskirt, flashing in the moonlight.  Small, unpolished pearls ornament the bands of her short sleeves; on her fingers are rings, set with diamonds and costly emeralds; and her wrists are clasped with bracelets of diamonds, shedding a modest lustre over her marble-like arms.

“Can this be my child?  Has this crime that so like a demon haunts me-that curses me even in my dreams, driven her, perhaps against her will, to seek this life of shame?” She takes the sleeper’s hand gently in her own, as the tears gush down her cheeks.

The sleeper startles, half raises herself from her pillow, parts her black, silky hair, that lays upon her gently-swelling bosom, and throws it carelessly down her shoulders, wildly setting her great black orbs on the strange figure before her.  “Hush, hush!” says the speaker, “I am a friend.  One who seeks you for a good purpose.  Give me your confidence-do not betray me!  I need not tell you by what means I gained access to you.”

A glow of sadness flashes across Anna’s countenance.  With a look of suspicion she scans the mysterious figure from head to foot.  “It is the Judge’s wife!” she says within herself.  “Some one has betrayed me to her; and, as is too often the case, she seeks revenge of the less guilty party.”  But the figure before her is in full dress, and one seeking revenge would have disguised herself.  “Why, and who is it, that seeks me in this mysterious manner?” whispers Anna, holding her delicate hand in the shadow, over her eyes.  “I seek you in the hope of finding something to relieve my troubled spirit.  I am a mother who has wronged her child-I have no peace of mind-my heart is lacerated—­”