d not to have deigned to answer me--and therefore I had
not the courage to write a second time. It would have been useless, I am
sure; for, good and just as she is, her refusals are inexorable when she
believes them deserved. And besides, for what good? It was too late; you
had resolved to die!"

"Oh, yes, quite resolved: for my infamy was gnawing at my heart. Jacques
had died in my arms despising me; and I loved him--mark me, sister,"
added Cephyse, with passionate enthusiasm, "I loved him as we love only
once in life!"

"Let our fate be accomplished, then!" said Mother Bunch with a pensive
air.

"But you have never told me, sister, the cause of your departure from
Mdlle. de Cardoville's," resumed Cephyse, after a moment's silence.

"It will be the only secret that I shall take with me, dear Cephyse,"
said the other, casting down her eyes. And she thought, with bitter joy,
that she would soon be delivered from the fear which had poisoned the
last days of her sad life--the fear of meeting Agricola, informed of the
fatal and ridiculous love she felt for him.

For, it must be said, this fatal and despairing love was one of
the causes of the suicide of the unfortunate creature. Since the
disappearance of her journal, she believed that the blacksmith knew
the melancholy secret contained in its sad pages. She doubted not
the generosity and good heart of Agricola; but she had such doubts of
herself, she was so ashamed of this passion, however pure and
noble, that, even in the extremity to which Cephyse and herself were
reduced--wanting work, wanting bread--no power on earth could have
induced her to meet Agricola, in an attempt to ask him for assistance.
Doubtless, she would have taken another view of the subject if her mind
had not been obscured by that sort of dizziness to which the firmest
characters are exposed when their misfortunes surpass all bounds.
Misery, hunger, the influence, almost contagious in such a moment, of
the suicidal ideas of Cephyse, and weariness of a life so long devoted
to pain and mortification, gave the last blow to the sewing-girl's
reason. After long struggling against the fatal design of her sister,
the poor, dejected, broken-hearted creature finished by determining to
share Cephyse's fate, and seek in death the end of so many evils.

"Of what are you thinking, sister?" said Cephyse, astonished at the long
silence. The other replied, trembling: "I think of that which made me
leave Mdlle.