Overtasked, weary and exhausted by her long efforts, Carolyn Clifton sought her own chamber, and threw herself, all splendidly arrayed as she was, upon her bed. She had no fear of interruption, for it was not yet daybreak, and her woman would not be up for several hours. So she was surprised, and not at all pleased when a gentle rap came to the door. She would not answer or move to let the rapper know that she was awake. She was weary, weary with acting for one night, and needed rest. But after the unknown had rapped two or three times, the door was gently opened, and the sweet voice of Zuleime was heard to say— “Sister, I know you are not asleep—will you let me come in?” And without waiting for an answer, she entered, and softly closed the door, and came to the bedside, saying—“I heard you when you came up and threw yourself down on the bed, and I knew you were not asleep—let me stay with you, dear sister, won’t you?” “No, no, Zuleime, I wish to sleep,” said Carolyn, still pressing both hands to her throbbing temples. “Well, then, dear Carolyn, let me undress you, you can never compose yourself in that dress;” and the affectionate girl began to take off her slippers and stockings, saying—“I can take off all the small articles, and unlace your stomacher without disturbing you, sister, and then you need not stand up more than a minute to disrobe.” In indifference or abstraction, Miss Clifton permitted the gentle girl to unclasp all her jewels, and loosen her dress, without ever removing her hands, clasped tightly upon her temples, till Zuleime, wishing to take down the elaborate _coiffure_, gently withdrew them, and unwound the strings of pearls, and unfastened the plume of feathers. When the affectionate girl had laid aside all these glittering gewgaws, and freed her long, fair hair, and relieved her oppressed and fevered head, the proud and scornful Carolyn, subdued by the gentleness of her sweet, only sister, looked in her face, read there a strange sympathy, delicate as it was deep, and suddenly put her arms around her neck, drew her head down to her own, and kissed her fondly, murmuring— “Oh, Zuleime! my child, my child! if you knew—” “I _do_ know, dearest Carolyn! Dearest sister, I _do_ know it all! all! and feel it—feel it from the bottom of my heart! That is the reason I came in, Carolyn! But I did not come in to disturb you, even by my sympathy. I came in to put you to sleep. Stand up, dearest Carolyn, and drop these heavy robes, and I will throw this light wrapper around you, and then you can lie down again—there!” “Oh! sleep!—when shall I sleep again?” bitterly asked Carolyn, as Zuleime laid her head tenderly back upon the freshened pillow.