In her little hands she is holding an open book, her little head is bent backward in sadness. The sun dies at the window, and casts a red glow upon the book .
The older sister has left for an unknown destination; nobody knows why and wherefore. She was there in the house that evening as ever, yet at night she had gone away forever .
Later mother was wringing her hands, covered her old face with a kerchief, sticking burning candles into the candle-sticks, and crying tearfully .
All the people in the house were sad, all the people in the house watched mother, and quiet were the steps of everyone, and still quieter were the words of everyone .
The book falls from her little hands. She weeps. Her childish lips are quivering with fear. — I shall go away as my big sister, when I grow up. And she weeps .