.--My dear Caroline has lost appetite, spirits, health. Hope
deferred maketh the heart sick. His letters to her grow colder--if
indeed he has written more than one. He has refrained from writing again
to me--he knows it is no use. Altogether the situation that he and she
and I are in is melancholy in the extreme. Why are human hearts so
perverse?

CHAPTER VI.--HER INGENUITY INSTIGATES HER

September 19.--Three months of anxious care--till at length I have taken
the extreme step of writing to him. Our chief distress has been caused
by the state of poor Caroline, who, after sinking by degrees into such
extreme weakness as to make it doubtful if she can ever recover full
vigour, has to-day been taken much worse. Her position is very critical.
The doctor says plainly that she is dying of a broken heart--and that
even the removal of the cause may not now restore her. Ought I to have
written to Charles sooner? But how could I when she forbade me? It was
her pride only which instigated her, and I should not have obeyed.

Sept. 26.--Charles has arrived and has seen her. He is shocked,
conscience-stricken, remorseful. I have told him that he can do no good
beyond cheering her by his presence. I do not know what he thinks of
proposing to her if she gets better, but he says little to her at
present: indeed he dares not: his words agitate her dangerously.

Sept. 28.--After a struggle between duty and selfishness, such as I pray
to Heaven I may never have to undergo again, I have asked him for pity's
sake to make her his wife, here and now, as she lies. I said to him that
the poor child would not trouble him long; and such a solemnization would
soothe her last hours as nothing else could do. He said that he would
willingly do so, and had thought of it himself; but for one forbidding
reason: in the event of her death as his wife he can never marry me, her
sister, according to our laws. I started at his words. He went on: 'On
the other hand, if I were sure that immediate marriage with me would save
her life, I would not refuse, for possibly I might after a while, and out
of sight of you, make myself fairly content with one of so sweet a
disposition as hers; but if, as is probable, neither my marrying her nor
any other act can avail to save her life, by so doing I lose both her and
you.' I could not answer him.

Sept. 29.--He continued firm in his reasons for refusal till this
morning, and then I became poss