I made the picture — and then, together, call down the curses of heaven upon me."

Then her face softened, and a touch of aching sorrow appeared upon it; she clung to the mountain of life once more and said:

"My misery will kill me soon, Zahiya, so wait until the killer strikes his blow. Do not leave me alone, and do not let your happiness paralyze what little remains of my body! Do you hear?

Zahiya searched her sister's despairing, weeping face as if she were seeing it for the first time! Had the flame of thirst for life seared the soul of her one beloved sister to such a degree, without her ever feeling the scorch of the blaze? How many handfuls of torment had this poor creature swallowed and choked down, watching herself take refuge in herself, trying to escape the watchful eye of her lively, vigorous sister, and finding no road of escape?

Remorse mingled with a crying tenderness overwhelmed her, and she rushed to her sister and embraced her. How could she have enjoyed the springtime of love while her sister, in frailty and weakness, fended off the winds of life and their cold? Her conscience saw one road before it and no other upon the horizon — let her speak then, and let her promise, before the voice of conscience was strangled!...

"Have pity on yourself, Malak, and be at peace: I shall not leave you alone. I shall not marry 'Karim.' I am yours before I am his. But promise me — a true promise — that you will try to soften your hatred of life; then you will be happy, and you will give happiness." Her voice dwindled until it was near a whisper: "The sacrifice will be great, sister, but I shall make it gladly for your sake, and I pray God will inspire you to value it and to

make use of your days, which you are scattering though they are too precious to be scattered. I shall build you a new life, 'Malak,' upon the ruins of a love whose edifice I shall not try to raise again — only be my best help in this!"...

"Is it true, what you say, Zahiya? Forgive me — for your forgiveness is like the forgiveness of my Lord. Oh, my sister! I shall try to live, though I shall need no short time to gather the scattered pieces of my soul together again."

Zahiya gazed at the setting sun; she pressed one hand to her breast, and with the other wiped the tears of eyes withered by staring into the faces of the happy...

•

When, a week later, she saw "Karim" waiting outside the gates of the school, she knew that the hour of farewell had crept up. She stopped walking; her eyes clung to his kind, handsome face, and for a moment her heart clung to a thin thread of hope that quickly snapped as the face of "Malak" loomed before her. They walked side by side, and he said with an eagerness he tried to conceal:

"Zahiya," I will believe nothing but that you are among the most honorable of girls and the purest. Say that what "Malak" said was mere invention — and if it was true, say nothing...

She wanted to laugh and laugh — and the worst of calamities is the one that makes you laugh — and she wanted to weep and weep, for in weeping there is release!

"Yes, Karim, it was mere invention. And I beg you to spare me the explanation, for it would only make the matter more tangled in your eyes. I have found that my happiness matters less than the life of a person which I want to grow long and to blossom; she has had enough of the pricking of thorns."

He cried out in pain: "Can you mean 'Malak,' Zahiya? She is selfish, to shatter our lives in this way."

The torment of the moment was

more than her heart could bear; she gave him a wilting look and whispered:

"I told you that you would not understand, however much I explained, 'Karim.' I shall wear your ring when she is ready to place your hand in mine with her own hand." And she added in a faint voice:

"That is — if you choose to wait."

And when he made no answer, she said in a broken voice: "Farewell, Karim. I shall remember our love as the loveliest dream my eyes ever saw," and she hurried past him...

Karim called out, as the space widened between them and carried his voice to her like the whisper of the breeze:

"Zahiya — I shall wait"...