"Who knows when the old woman in there will get another girl to serve, and there is that poor Madmazella who is ill, and in bed again to-day, and not a soul to get her a glass of water! Go in you, once or twice, will you not? Her room is over there; it opens on the courtyard by a separate door, so you need not go near the rest of the house at all." "I will go," said Mattina. "I shall owe it you as a favor. Well, Addio--good-by--perhaps I shall see you again." "The good hour be with you!" said Mattina, and then ran back into the house, hearing her master calling her. Later in the day, when her mistress had gone out for the afternoon, Mattina filled a glass with cold water and carried it carefully into the neighbouring courtyard. She found the ground floor room easily, and lifting the latch, stood hesitatingly in the doorway. Tapping at a door was unknown in Poros etiquette. A young woman with a pale face and tumbled fair hair lay on the bed in a corner of the room. She opened her eyes as the door creaked, and smiled at Mattina. "What is it, little one? Whom do you want?" "Antigone said ..." and Mattina shifted from one foot to another, "that there was not a soul to get you a glass of water." The young woman raised herself on her elbow, and her fair hair fell about her shoulders. "And so you came to bring me one! But what kindness! I accept with gratitude; but it is not water I want. Since the morning I have taken nothing, and I have a hollow there, which gives me still more pain in the head." Mattina looked puzzled; she did not know what a "hollow" was. "Listen, little one: on the shelf of that cupboard there, there is a small box of chocolate; it is in powder all ready and my spirit lamp wants but a match to it. Bring then your glass of water; you see we do require it after all, pour it in the little pan, and the chocolate, so ... stir it a little with the spoon, and we will wait till it bubbles. You can wait a little.... Yes? Is it not so?" "I can wait; the Kyria is out." "Then pull that little table close to my bed. Ah! How it hurts my head! Scarcely can I open my eyes." "Close them," said Mattina; "I will tell you when it boils." Deftly she pulled forward the little table, straightened the tumbled sheets, and closed the open shutters so that the hot afternoon sun should not pour on the bed. Then she stood by the spirit lamp, and watched the frothing mixture. "It boils," she announced at last. The young woman opened her eyes. "Ah, the glare is gone!" she said, "how well that is for my poor eyes. But you are a good fairy, my little one! Now bring the cup from that shelf.... No; bring two! There is plenty of chocolate, and I am quite sure you like it also." "I do not know," said Mattina. "It smells good but I have never tasted it." "Never tasted chocolate! Oh, the poor little one! Quick! Bring a cup here, and bring also that box of biscuits from the lower shelf! I am sure you are hungry. Is it not so?"