will die! Anybody else would, at any rate, have had their
mother and sister with them!" Then she burst into a flood of real,
true, womanly tears.

After this there was a lull at Heavitree for a few days. Camilla
did not speak to her sister, but she condescended to hold some
intercourse with her mother, and to take her meals at the family
table. She did not go out of the house, but she employed herself in
her own room, doing no one knew what, with all that new clothing and
household gear which was to have been transferred in her train to
Mr. Gibson's house. Mrs. French was somewhat uneasy about the new
clothing and household gear, feeling that, in the event of Bella's
marriage, at least a considerable portion of it must be transferred
to the new bride. But it was impossible at the present moment to open
such a subject to Camilla;--it would have been as a proposition to a
lioness respecting the taking away of her whelps. Nevertheless, the
day must soon come in which something must be said about the clothing
and household gear. All the property that had been sent into the
house at Camilla's orders could not be allowed to remain as Camilla's
perquisites, now that Camilla was not to be married. "Do you know
what she is doing, my dear?" said Mrs. French to her elder daughter.

"Perhaps she is picking out the marks," said Bella.

"I don't think she would do that as yet," said Mrs. French.

"She might just as well leave it alone," said Bella, feeling that one
of the two letters would do for her. But neither of them dared to
speak to her of her occupation in these first days of her despair.

Mr. Gibson in the meantime remained at home, or only left his house
to go to the Cathedral or to visit the narrow confines of his little
parish. When he was out he felt that everybody looked at him, and it
seemed to him that people whispered about him when they saw him at
his usual desk in the choir. His friends passed him merely bowing to
him, and he was aware that he had done that which would be regarded
by every one around him as unpardonable. And yet,--what ought he to
have done? He acknowledged to himself that he had been very foolish,
mad,--quite demented at the moment,--when he allowed himself to think
it possible that he should marry Camilla French. But having found out
how mad he had been at that moment, having satisfied himself that to
live with her as his wife would be impossible, was he not right to
break the engagement? Cou