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Getting Started
with SQL and
Databases
Managing and Manipulating Data
with SQL
—
Mark Simon
Getting Started with
SQL and Databases
Managing and Manipulating Data
with SQL
Mark Simon
Getting Started with SQL and Databases: Managing and Manipulating Data
with SQL
Mark Simon
Ivanhoe VIC, VIC, Australia
Introduction������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������xxi
v
Table of Contents
Summary������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 18
Writing SQL���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 19
Columns��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 20
Comments����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 20
Filtering Data������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 20
Row Order������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 21
Clause Order�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 21
Coming Up����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 21
Chapter 2: Database����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 23
About the Sample Database�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 23
Database������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 24
Tables������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 26
Normalized Tables����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 27
Multiple Values���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 33
Summary������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 37
Coming Up����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 39
vi
Table of Contents
vii
Table of Contents
viii
Table of Contents
ix
Table of Contents
x
Table of Contents
xi
Table of Contents
CHECK���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 287
Foreign Keys������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 287
Indexes�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 289
Adding Rows to a Table������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 290
Deleting Rows from a Table������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 292
Adding More Rows�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 294
Updating Rows�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 295
Altering the Table���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 297
DML in Real Life������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 299
Security������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 299
Front-End Software������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 300
Summary���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 301
Data Types��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 301
Constraints�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 301
Foreign Keys������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 302
Indexes�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 302
Manipulating Data��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 302
xii
Table of Contents
Index��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 369
xiii
About the Author
Mark Simon has been involved in training and education
since the beginning of his career. He started as a teacher
of mathematics but soon moved into IT consultancy and
training because computers are much easier to work
with than high school students. He has worked with and
trained in several programming and coding languages and
currently focuses mainly on web development and database
languages. When not involved in work, you will generally
find him listening to or playing music, reading, or just
wandering about.
xv
About the Technical Reviewer
Atul Tyagi is a database developer who has worked
extensively in the field of data analytics for over eight years.
He has worked with various industries, including general
insurance and banking domains, and has contributed
significantly to several projects involving reporting,
datamarts, automation, data model development, and
project migration.
Atul is skilled in SQL, SAS, Python, and ETL tools such as
Informatica, SAS DI, Datastage, and SAS Visual Analytics. His
expertise in these areas has helped numerous organizations
effectively manage and analyze their data, leading to
improved decision-making and business outcomes. Atul has worked with leading
companies such as Accenture Solutions, Wipro Pvt Ltd, Acxiom Technologies, and EXL
Services.
Apart from his professional work, Atul is also passionate about sharing his
knowledge, cloud platforms, and data analytics. In his free time, he enjoys reading,
traveling, and exploring new cuisines.
xvii
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
Two Months In Spain
During The Late Revolution.
Gibraltar.
October 7.
At an early hour yesterday we left Cadiz, which did indeed look like
a "silver cup floating on the water," as the Spaniards say of it. As
the steamer bore us away, the rising sun upon its white towers and
cathedral dome, the belvideres which adorn the roof of every
house, (making each look like a church,) the lovely green alameda,
the distant mountains, the pretty white towns on the shore, the
hundreds of vessels in the sparkling bay, all made an enchanting
scene, from which we were recalled to the miseries of sea-sickness!
From time to time, we crept upon deck to see the fine sea view,
and when we came to Tarifa, near the straits, the scene was
magnificent. On one side, the mountains of Africa, Tangier in the
distance; on the other, the mountains of Spain and the Moorish-
looking town of Tarifa, with an island on which is the lighthouse
and defences standing directly in the mouth of the straits; so that it
seemed as if a long line of vessels with their white sails spread
were encompassing the island. In sight, at one time, were eighty
sail. Every nation under the sun seemed represented, as they
saluted one another with their flags. Among the rest, Sweden and
Norway. We landed at Gibraltar under a glorious sunset. The
farewell beams lighted the mountains with a tint of gilded bronze.
Gibraltar, opposite these, was like a huge gray mountain, and
behind it the sky was of the palest rose color, melting into blue
where it touched the water. The town is on the side and at the foot
of the "Rock," (a place of sixteen or twenty thousand inhabitants,)
and above it are the famous galleries cut through the rock, from
which we could see the noses of the great guns peeping from the
port-holes, range after range, one above another, till the top is
reached, where is the Signal.
The Rock of Gibraltar is 1430 feet high, and about three miles long
—a great gray sphinx jutting into the water. It is joined to the
mainland by a narrow slip of sand, capable of being submerged if
necessary. Upon this neck of land is the "neutral ground," (a
narrow strip,) where, side by side, the fair British sentinel and the
sunburned Spaniard keep their "lonely round." We mount upon
donkeys to ascend the "Rock," passing through the wonderful
"galleries" which, at an immense expense, have been cut into the
solid rock, where, with the guns, are depositories for powder, balls,
etc. Some of these galleries are over a mile and a quarter long,
lighted by the port-holes, which, in passing, gave us glimpses of
the loveliest of landscapes. Leaving the galleries, we ascend by
zigzag paths to the Signal; at every turn feasting our eyes upon the
wonderful panorama spread out below us, which is seen in
perfection from the summit. Here we looked down upon two seas,
the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, and two worlds, Europe and
Africa! Spain on one side, with the snowy heights of the Alpujarras
and Sierra Nevada; at our feet, the town of Gibraltar, with the
lovely alameda, its green trees and bright gardens, the glorious bay
crowded with shipping—men-of-war, school ships, steamers, and
every small craft; and, seemingly, but a stone's throw across lay
Ceuta, at the foot of that other "Pillar of Hercules" which rises 2200
feet, and looks like a mountain of bronze, while Gibraltar is of gray
granite. These two great pillars were considered in the olden time
the end of the world—the Tarshish of the Bible; the Calpe of the
Phoenicians, who erected here Calpe (carved mountain) and Abyla.
Tarik, the one-eyed Berber chief, took Gibraltar in 711, and called it
after his own name, Ghebal Tarik, from whence comes Gibraltar.
October 8.
October 9.
Granada.
October 10
Darkness now fell upon us, and except one exquisite view which
the setting sun gave of the snow mountains over Granada, we saw
nothing till we reached this last stronghold of the Moors in Spain,
and found lodgings inside the Alhambra grounds in the Hotel
Washington Irving.
October 11.
We go first to the Cathedral, to hear the high mass, and pay our
respects to the remains of Ferdinand and Isabella, which rest there.
Driving through beautiful ornamental grounds out of the Alhambra
gate, down a steep hill in the old Moorish looking city, we find the
cathedral, like that of Malaga, greatly ornamented, (in the Greco-
Roman style,) built in 1529. Within the sanctuary are eleven
pictures by Alonzo Caño, and two of his most celebrated pieces of
sculpture—the heads of Adam and Eve carved in cork. Caño was a
native of Granada, and is buried in the Cathedral Bocanegra.
Another of the celebrated artists of Spain was also a native here,
and the cathedral has several of his pictures. But everything
connected with the church sinks into insignificance when one enters
into the royal chapel, where all that can perish of the great
Ferdinand and Isabella lies (a small space for so much greatness,
as Charles V. said.) In a crypt, below the chapel, in plain leaden
coffins, with but the simple initial of each king and queen upon
them, are the coffins of Ferdinand and Isabella and their daughter
Joanna, with her husband Philip I. (the handsome)—the last—that
very coffin which the poor crazed Joanna carried about with her for
forty-seven years, embraced with such frantic grief, and would
never be parted from. Nothing was so affecting as the sight of this
—not even the remembrance of all Isabella's glories and goodness!
So does an instance of heart devotion touch one more than even
the sight of greatness. Above the vault are the four beautiful
alabaster monuments, made by order of Charles V. to the memory
of his father and mother and his grandparents. Ferdinand and
Isabella, with their statues, lie side by side; and poor Joanne la
Folle looks lovely and placid (all her jealousies over) beside the
husband she adored, as if at last sure that she could not be divided
from him. Isabella died at Medina del Campo, (near Segovia, about
thirty miles from Madrid,) but desired to be buried here in the
bright jewel which she had won as well for her crown as for her
God. Her body was taken to Granada in December, journeying over
trackless moors amidst storms and torrents, of which the faithful
and learned Peter Martyr gives account, who accompanied his
beloved mistress to her last home.
The inscription which runs around the cornice tells: "This chapel
was founded by their most Catholic Majesties, Don Fernando and
Doña Isabel, king and queen of las Españas of Naples, of Sicily—of
Jerusalem—who conquered this kingdom, and brought it back to
our faith; who acquired the Canary Islands and Indies, as well as
the cities of Oran, Tripoli, and Bugia; who crushed heresy, expelled
the Moors and Jews from their realms, and reformed religion. The
queen died Tuesday, November 26, 1504; the king died January 23,
1516. The building was completed in 1517."
The bassi relievi on the altar in this chapel are very interesting,
from the scenes they represent—Ferdinand and Isabella receiving
the keys of Granada from Boabdil, etc. At each end of the altar are
figures of the king and queen in the costume of the day, the
banner of Castile behind the king. In the sacristy is the crown of
Isabella, the sword of Ferdinand, the casket in which she gave the
jewels to Columbus, some vestments embroidered by her own
hand, and the tabernacle used on the altar where they heard mass,
on which is a picture of the adoration of the Magi, by that
wonderful old painter Hemling of Bruges. Lord Bacon has said of
Isabella: "In all her relations of queen or woman, she was an honor
to her sex, and the corner-stone of the greatness of Spain—one of
the most faultless characters in history—the purest sovereign by
whom the female sceptre was ever wielded."
October 12.
To-day is made memorable by our first visit to the Alhambra.
Situated on a high hill, on either side of which flows the Darro and
the Genil, this space, which occupies several hundred acres, was
formerly surrounded by walls and towers, and contained within it
the palaces and villas of the Kalifs of Granada; and so numerous
were these that it was called a city, Medina Alhambra. Of all these,
there now remains but that portion of the Alhambra known as the
summer-palace, (the winter-palace having been torn down by
Charles V. to make room for a palace which he never finished.)
Besides this summer-palace, there is the "Generalife," (a summer-
palace built—later than the Alhambra—in 1319;) the remains of the
Alcazabar, (fortress,) the Torre de la Vega, where the bell strikes
the hours in the same manner as in the Moorish days, to signify
upon whom devolves the duty of irrigating the "vega," the beautiful
and fertile plain below; the tower of the captive; tower of the
princesses; the tower of the "Siete Suetos," (seven stories;) and
the Torres Bermujas, (Red Towers.) The last named are outside the
Alhambra walls, but are on the same hill, and claim to belong to an
older date than even the Moors or the Goths—supposed to be of
Phoenician origin. The walls are entered by several gates, some
Arabic, and others more modern. From these gates, you wander
among stately avenues of trees, with flowers and shrubs and
charming paths, through which now and then is seen a glimpse of
the yellow towers, or some picturesque ruin, altogether a scene of
enchanting beauty. And when upon one of the "miradors" (look-
outs) or terraces which crown these towers and palaces, there lies
the Moorish city at your feet, the grand snow mountains on the
east, the beautiful vega stretching to the mountains on the west,
down which marched the conquering Christians; and on the south
lies that mountain so poetically called "the last sigh of the Moor,"
from which Boabdil looked his last upon the kingdom he was
leaving for ever, and where his mother made him the famous
reproach which has passed into history, that he did well to weep as
a woman over that kingdom he could not defend as a man.
And how venture to describe the Alhambra, which has been written
of by such men as Prescott and Irving! how give to any one an
idea of that which is unique in the world, of the grace and beauty
and wonderful variety of its adornments—the carvings like lace, the
bright colored mosaics and azuelos, (tiles,) the transparent stucco
work and filagree, the inlaid cedar-wood roofs, the pillars, the
domes and fountains, the courts, the beautiful arches! We enter
first the Court of the Myrtles, in which a large square pool, filled by
a fountain at either end, is surrounded by a hedge of fragrant
myrtle, and this in turn by a marble colonnade, over which is a
second gallery, with jalousies, through which we could imagine the
dark eyed beauties to have peeped. The roofs of these galleries are
of cedar-wood inlaid, and the arches and sides of exquisite wreaths
and vines in stucco, with shields of the Moorish kings, mottoes and
verses from the Koran, etc. This court was a place of ablutions for
the kalifs.
From the Court of the Myrtles, one sees the Tower of Comares,
(called from the name of its Persian architect;) and within this
tower, opening from the Court of Myrtles, and preceded by its
"antesala" is the Hall of the Ambassadors, the largest, highest, and
most beautifully adorned of all the Alhambra. Here was the sultan's
throne and reception room. On three sides, arched windows look
down into the deep ravine from which the tower rises; and,
beyond, upon an enchanting prospect, the old Moorish city and the
verdant hills and mountains. The roof of this hall is a sort of
imitation of the vault of heaven, and that of the "antesala" (called
"La Barca," from being shaped like a boat) is also very elegant.
On the east side of the Court of the Lions is the "Sale del Tribunal,"
(the hall of justice,) where the kalifs gave audience on state affairs.
Three arches in the centre and two at either end lead into this hall,
which is ninety feet long by sixteen wide, with a dome thirty-eight
feet high. This is divided by arches into seven rooms, all profusely
ornamented, and in the ceilings of several recesses are paintings of
Moors, with cimeters, castles, etc. In one of these rooms is the
famous Alhambra vase of porcelain, four feet three inches high,
which was found full of gold. In another small room are three
tombstones, one of Mohammed II., and one of Yusef III., found in
the tomb-house of the Moorish kings, near the Court of the Lions,
in 1574. They have long and elaborate inscriptions, one of which
reads thus:
"May God's blessing for ever rest with this our king!
"It was God's pleasure that he should dwell amid the garden of
delights.
"Those that inhabit those happy regions come forth to meet him
with palms in their hands.
"If thou wouldst know the story of him who lies in the tomb,
listen. He was a prince above all in excellence. May God give
him sanctity!
"He was cut down into the dust. Yet the Pleiades themselves
are not his equals.
"Oh! how great was his fame. His excellence, how high! and
unbounded his virtues!
"For Abul Hadjaj was like the moon that points out the road to
take, and when the sun went down its brightness beamed no
less from his eyes.
"Why should I not pray God that the rain should moisten his
tomb with its abundant dew? for the rain of his liberality
showered down upon all without ceasing.
"Was he not filled with the fear of God, with gentleness and
wisdom? Amongst his qualities, were not virtue, liberality, and
magnificence one part?
"Was he not the only one that with his science cleared up all
doubts?
"Was not poetry one of his attributes, and did he not deck his
throne with verses like strings of pearl?
"Was he not always stout, and held his ground in the battle-
field?
"But Ebn Nasr, his successor, is certainly the greatest among all
monarchs of the earth.
The Hall of the Two Sisters takes its name from two white slabs of
equal size in the pavement. Here are beautiful arches, windows
with painted jalousies, a fountain, and a wonderful roof, composed
of three thousand pieces in little miniature domes and vaults, all
colored in delicate blue and red with white and gold. From this hall,
indeed quite from the Court of the Lions, one sees through a series
of arched entrances into the "Corredor de Lindaraja," in which room
are thirteen little cupolas, and the Mirador de Lindaraja (a boudoir
of the sultana) looks upon the garden of Lindaraja, with flowers,
and fountains, and orange-trees.
On the opposite of this lovely garden, and looking into it, are the
rooms occupied by Washington Irving, those built by Philip V. for
his beautiful queen, Elizabeth of Parma, whom the Spanish call
"Isabel Farnese." Several corridors here lead to modernized parts of
the building—" the queen's boudoir," a chapel made by Charles V.
out of the mosque, and a lofty tower, used by the Arabs as an
oratory for the evening prayer, and from which the view is superb—
the "Generalife" with its white towers, the woods of the Alhambra,
the Darro far below in the deep gorge, and, beyond and above all,
the snow-capped Sierra Nevada.
The "Patio de la Mosquita" (the court of the mosque) has only the
remains of its beautiful roof.
We hasten from the Generalife to see the sunset from the Torre de
la Vega, which is the finest view we have had of the city—the Vega
with the lovely rivers winding through it, and the grand mountains
beyond. As the sun declined, from the many church bells came the
"Ave Maria," soft and musical from the great distance below.
The guide points out the hospital founded by St. John of God, (a
Portuguese saint,) the founder of the brothers of charity now
spread all over Europe. According to the guide, the saint asked the
king for as much land, on which to build this hospital, as he could
enclose in a certain number of hours. Of course he was
miraculously assisted; and by working all night, he took in so great
a space that the king became alarmed. Here he built this hospital
and the church in which he is buried. He lost his life rescuing a
drowning man, and died blessing Granada.
Tuesday.
Seated in the Court of the Lions, we meditate upon the cruel death
of the noble Abencerrages, and lean from the window of the Tower
of Comares, down which the good Ayesha let her infant son Boabdil
escape, to save him from the jealous fury of her rival Zorayda.
The dancers were four lovely, graceful girls, modestly dressed, and
several men, all dark, with large, soft eyes and white teeth. A
youth in short jacket, with broad red faja (sash) and the peculiar
Andalusian hat, danced a solo of strange fashion, with many
movements of the body, and the extraordinary gestures which
belong to all. The feet move in short steps—a sort of "heel and
toe"—while the body sways to and fro, and the hands and arms
move gracefully and expressively. The men had tambourines and
the women castanets, and the wild airs to which they danced were
accompanied with their voices. The variety of dances and songs
was curious and interesting, and often descriptive. At the end of
each dance, the girls came round and saluted all, gentlemen and
ladies, by passing one arm over the neck.
Wednesday.
Drive about the city, the public squares, etc., and visit the remains
of the old Moorish bazaar which occupies a square intersected by
narrow lanes, every one of which is beautifully ornamented with
pillars and arabesque work.
Yesterday (my feast) and the feast of the great Spanish Saint
Teresa was celebrated by our most sorrowful departure from
Grenada! At three o'clock in the morning, we descend the hill of
the Alhambra, and ruefully mount to the top of a Spanish diligence,
and squeeze into what they call the "coupe"—an exalted place
behind the coach-box, from whence one looks down upon the ten
mules who drag this lumbering vehicle, see all their antics, observe
the rash manner in which they tear down precipitous heights, and
mount steep ascents, having the comfortable certainty that in no
event of danger could we possibly descend from this lofty perch
and save ourselves!
Such is the Spanish diligence from the "coupé." In the interior, shut
out from the front view, one only hears the united voices of the
"conductors," and it is less exciting. We who are above, however,
have the advantage of a fine view of the mountains, (the Sierra
Morena,) over which we pass by a smooth and beautiful road.
Topete (the admiral who, at Cadiz, brought over the fleet) is also in
Madrid; and Serrano, the prince of the traitors, is president of the
provisional government. The table d'hôte is crowded with men of
the press, (letter-writers of all nations,) giving their several
impressions of matters to the gullible "public," and interpreting
events to suit the taste of their readers. We ask one of these (a
witty Frenchman) if he writes for Le Monde. "Oui, Madame, pour
tout le monde." Amongst the motley crowd, we distinguish the
letter-writer of the London Times, and him of the New York
Times, with whom we make acquaintance, and who having lived a
long time in France, and being of Irish extraction, is very little of an
American in appearance and manner.
To Be Continued
Translated From The French.
I.
How delightful it is to sit under the grand old trees of the courtyard
on this charming mid-summer evening! The light breeze is redolent
with the fragrance of the new-mown hay, and the leaves seem to
quiver with joy in an atmosphere heavy with sunshine. The
swallows pursue each other in play with short, wild cries, and in
the foliage of the linden-tree that brown bird, the nightingale, tries
her brilliant cadences, drowned at times by the shouts of the
children at their sports answering her in the silences, whom without
doubt they understood and admired. The children, happy as the
birds, dance and whirl about, just like those motes one frequently
sees rising up in a sunbeam. The nuns, sombre and silent figures,
watch them, contemplating life in its flower and carelessness. This
court-yard where the children play and the birds sing belonged
formerly to a monastery of the order of St. Benoit; but now to a
cloister built out of its ruins, where the virtues of ancient days
flourish under the shelter of modern walls, which are hallowed by
the memories of the past.
Some young girls, no less pleased with the gambols of the children,
were walking in groups to and fro under the vaulted arches which
encircled the court, talking and laughing merrily; but whenever they
approached a nun reclining in an easy chair, by an involuntary
impulse they lowered their voices. She was a poor invalid, who had
been brought out to enjoy the sweet odors and the pleasant
warmth of the evening. She appeared to be nearing the end of life,
though still young. For the paleness of her cheeks, the emaciation
of her body, and the transparent whiteness of her hands, all
proclaimed the ravages of a long and incurable illness. There was
no more sand in the hourglass, no more oil in the lamp, and her
heart—like a timepiece about to stop—was slacking its pulsations.
One could not help but see that Sister Aloyse retained a very
powerful fascination in the beauty which her terrible illness had not
been able to efface. Her dark blue eyes had not lost their almond-
shape or sapphire hue. Her figure was still elegant, seen under the
loose robe which wrapped her like a winding-sheet; and her voice
was as sweet and agreeable as in former days.
At first she felt a little better upon being brought into the garden;
but she still suffered, and neither the pure air nor the mildness of
the beautiful evening had revived her. She sat in silence, absorbed,
perhaps, in those last thoughts, which she did not confide even to
herself, and which, to one who is about departing, seem to give a
glimpse of those unknown shores which are yet so near to her who
waits them.
What is she thinking of? Of her past without remorse; of her future
without terror? Does she regret anything which she has renounced
for her God? Does one last thread hold captive this celestial bird? I
cannot say. She appears sad; yet her companions, always so
affectionately attentive, do not seem to be surprised. For Sister
Aloyse had always been characterized, even in the more beautiful
days of her youth, by a kind of melancholy. She resembled an
angel of peace, but yet an angel who weeps.
One young girl, who was walking under the arches, regarded her
with great interest; and finally, leaving the group by whom she was
surrounded, approached the nun, dropped on her knees in the
grass before her, and, looking in her face, said earnestly:
"Thank you, Camille, I am not well, and I shall never be any better
till I come into the presence of our Lord. Look! does it not seem
indeed as if the gates of heaven were opening yonder?"
She pointed to the west, then filled with the glory and splendor of
purple and gold and flame colors.
"Oh! yes; provided the great God will receive us. And something
warns me that I shall shortly go to him."
The nun was still thinking, praying perhaps; and after a long silence
she said,
"Camille, you must come and see me some time before I go away
from here. But now good-night, dear!"
Two nuns now came forward to help the sister into the house,
while Camille, who had gathered some white roses, carried them to
Aloyse, saying,
II.
"Go, my child," said the old abbess to Camille, "go to the infirmary
and see Sister Aloyse; she has something to say to you."
"Is she going to die?" asked Camille with tears in her eyes.
"She will go to her eternal home soon, but not to-day. Have no
fear, child, but go and listen carefully to what she tells you."
Camille with agitated heart (for this poor heart is so quickly stirred
at sixteen years!) ascended the staircase which led to the cells of
the nuns. She passed through a long corridor out of which opened
the little doors, all of which, instead of a number or design, bore
some holy image or pious inscription. At the end of this corridor
she found the infirmary, a large room, quiet and retired, whose
windows opened upon the court and garden below. At this moment
it was almost vacant; she found only one bed occupied, that of
Sister Aloyse, who, as she had no fever, had been left by the
infirmarian while she attended vespers in the chapel. Camille
noiselessly approached the bed, the curtains of which were half
drawn so that Aloyse could see out. She was sitting up supported
by her pillows, and her hands were joined before her on the cross
of her rosary. She smiled on the young girl, who timidly embraced
her; and then Camille very earnestly asked her why she had sent
for her to come to her bedside instead of any other of the girls, or
her friends or companions; for she was afraid, as one naturally
dreads what is unknown. The nun fixed upon her those searching
eyes which seemed to look through and beyond anything present,
and said with much sweetness,
"Sit down, Camille; I have something to say to you." She hesitated,
but finally said, "You have never heard any one of your family
speak of me?"
"I never saw her, but I have seen her great portrait," said Camille.