a little, hid her face in her sister's
bosom, and threw his weak arms around her.

"Courage, sister!" said Cephyse, in a voice which was also growing
faint, as she pressed her closer to her bosom; "it will soon be over."

And Cephyse added, with a kind of envy, "Oh! why does my sister's
strength fail so much sooner than mine? I have still my perfect
senses and I suffer less than she does. Oh! if I thought she would
die first!--But, no--I will go and hold my face over the chafing-dish
rather."

At the movement Cephyse made to rise, a feeble pressure from her sister
held her back. "You suffer, my poor child!" said Cephyse, trembling.

"Oh yes! a good deal now--do not leave me!"

"And I scarcely at all," said Cephyse, gazing wildly at the
chafing-dish. "Ah!" added she, with a kind of fatal! joy; "now I begin
to feel it--I choke--my head is ready to split."

And indeed the destructive gas now filled the little chamber, from which
it had, by degrees, driven all the air fit for respiration. The day was
closing in, and the gloomy garret was only lighted by the reflection of
the burning charcoal, which threw a red glare on the sisters, locked
in each other's arms. Suddenly Mother Bunch made some slight
convulsive movements, and pronounced these words in a failing voice:
"Agricola--Mademoiselle de Cardoville--Oh! farewell!--Agricola--I--"

Then she murmured some unintelligible words; the convulsive moments
ceased, and her arms, which had been clasped round Cephyse, fell inert
upon the mattress.

"Sister!" cried Cephyse, in alarm, as she raised Mother Bunch's head, to
look at her face. "Not already, sister!--And I?--and I?"

The sewing-girl's mild countenance was not paler than usual. Only her
eyes, half-closed, seemed no longer to see anything, and a half-smile
of mingled grief and goodness lingered an instant about her violet lips,
from which stole the almost imperceptible breath--and then the mouth
became motionless, and the face assumed a great serenity of expression.

"But you must not die before me!" cried Cephyse, in a heart-rending
tone, as she covered with kisses the cold cheek. "Wait for me, sister!
wait for me!"

Mother Bunch did not answer. The head, which Cephyse let slip from her
hands, fell back gently on the mattress.

"My God. It is not my fault, if we do not die together!" cried Cephyse
in despair, as she knelt beside the couch, on which the other lay
motionless.

"Dead!" she murmured in terror.