All the youthful brilliancy was frightened out of her face, her lips turned blue, her whole frame shook so violently that Elizabeth saw absolute danger unless the girl were soothed back to calmness.
"I won't torment you any more, Elsie," she said. "I'll bear it alone—I'll bear it alone."
"One can always forget if one is determined," said Elsie; "but you won't—you will brood over things——"
"I shall be more myself, now," interrupted Elizabeth. "It was from seeing Grantley so unexpectedly, just when I was waiting for——"
"Be still!" interrupted Elsie, sharply. "I won't hear that—I won't hear anything; you shall not force unpleasant things upon me."
The sister and the sister-in-law stood opposite each other, oppressed by the same secret, but bearing it so differently. Elsie's share seemed to be only a burdensome knowledge of some mystery; no evil seemed to threaten her in its discovery, but deep sympathy appeared to have broken through her careless nature, moulding it into something grand. She was the first to recover from the cold, shivering distress which had come over both; the volatile, impressible creature could not dwell long enough upon one subject, however painful it might be, to produce the effect which even slight trouble had upon a character like Elizabeth's.
"You look like a ghost," she cried, in sudden irritation. "It is cruel, Bessie, to frighten me in this way. You know what a weak, nervous little thing I am. It is wicked of you!"
Elizabeth turned slowly towards the door.
"Be at peace, if you can," she said; "I will trouble you no more."
"Now you are angry!" cried Elsie.