Then Marguérite, shivering from head to foot, shaking her whole couch with nervous movements, stammered:

"Sit down, Big Sister... listen."

The priest bent down toward Suzanne, who was still flung

upon the bed's foot. He raised her, placed her in an armchair, and taking a hand of each of the sisters in one of his own, he pronounced:

"Lord, my God! Endue them with strength, cast Thy mercy upon them."

And Marguérite began to speak. The words issued from her throat one by one, raucous, with sharp pauses, as though very feeble.

"Pardon, pardon, Big Sister; oh, forgive! If thou you knew how I have feared of this moment all my life..."

Suzanne stammered through her tears:

"Forgive what, Little One? You have given all to me, sacrificed everything; you are an angel..."

But Marguérite interrupted her:

"Hush, hush! Let me speak... do not stop me. It is dreadful… let me tell all… to the very end, without flinching. Listen. You remember, you remember. Henry…?”

Suzanne trembled and looked at her sister. The younger continued:

"You must hear all, to understand. I was twelve years old, only twelve years old; you remember it well, is it not so? And I was spoiled, I did everything that I liked! You remember, surely, how they spoiled me? Listen. The first time that he came he had varnished boots. He got down from his horse at the great steps, and he begged pardon for his costume, but he came to bring some news to papa. Don’t speak – listen. When I saw him I was completely carried away, I found him so very beautiful; and I remained standing in a corner of the salon all the time that he was talking. Children are strange… and terrible. Oh yes… I have dreamed of all that.

"He came back again… several times… I looked at him with all my eyes, with all my soul… I was of age… and very much more knowing than anyone thought. He came back often…

Ithought only of him.

I said, very low:

“Henry… Henry de Lampierre!”

“Then they said that he was going to marry you. It was a sorrow; oh, Big Sister, a sorrow… a sorrow! I cried for three nights without sleeping. He came back every day, in the afternoon, after his lunch… you remember, is it not so? Say nothing… listen. You made him cakes which he liked… with meal, with butter and milk. Oh, I know well how. I could make them yet if it were needed. He ate them at one mouthful, and… and then he drank a glass of wine, and then he said, 'It is delicious.' You remember how he would say that?

"I was jealous, jealous! The moment of your marriage approached. There were only two weeks more. I became crazy. I said to myself: ‘He shall not marry Suzanne, no, I will not have it! It is I whom he will marry when I am grown up. I shall never find anyone whom I love so much.' But one night, ten days before the contract, you took a walk

with him in front of the chateau by moonlight… and there… under

the fir, under the great fir… he kissed you… holding you in his two arms. You remember, is it not so? It was probably the first time… yes… You were so pale when you went back to the salon.

"I had seen you two; I was there, in the shrubbery. I was angry! If I could I should have killed you both!

"I said to myself: 'He shall not marry Suzanne, never! He shall marry no one. I should be too unhappy.' And all of a sudden I began to hate him dreadfully.

"Then, you know what I did? Listen. I had seen the gardener making little balls to kill strange dogs. He pounded up a bottle with a stone and put the powdered glass in a little ball of meat.

"I took a little medicine bottle that mamma had; I broke it small with a hammer, and I hid the glass in my pocket. It was a shining powder… The next day, as soon as you had made the little cakes… I split them with a knife and I put in the glass… He ate three of them… I too, I ate one… I threw the other six into the pond. The two swans died three days after… You remember? Oh, say nothing… listen, listen. I, I alone did not die… but I have always been sick. Listen… He died – you know well… listen… that, that is nothing. It is afterwards, later… always… the worst… listen.

"My life, all my life.… what torture! I said to myself: 'I will never leave my sister. And at the hour of death I will tell her all…’ There! And ever since, I have always thought of that moment when I should tell you all. Now it is come. It is terrible. Oh… Big Sister!

"I have always thought, morning and evening, by night and by day, 'Some time I must tell her that…’ I waited… What agony!… It is done. Say nothing. Now I am afraid… am afraid… oh, I am afraid. If I am going to see him again, soon, when I am dead. See him again… think of it! The first! Before you! I shall not dare. I must… I am going to die… I want you to forgive me. I want it… I cannot go off to meet him without that. Oh, tell her to forgive me, Monsieur le Curé, tell her… I implore you to do it. I cannot die without that…”

She was silent, and remained panting, always scratching the sheet with her withered nails.

Suzanne had hidden her face in her hands, and did not move. She was thinking of him whom she might have loved so long! What a good life they should have lived together! She saw him once again in that vanished bygone time, in that old past which was put out forever. The beloved dead – how they tear your hearts! Oh, that kiss, his only kiss! She had hidden it in her soul. And after it nothing, nothing more her whole life long!

All of a sudden the priest stood straight, and, with a strong vibrant voice, he cried:

"Mademoiselle Suzanne, your sister is dying!"

Then Suzanne, opening her hands, showed her face soaked with tears, and throwing herself upon her sister, she kissed her with all her might, stammering:

"I forgive you, I forgive you,

Little One.”