"Yes, yes!" cried Elsie. "Grant sent for old Jarvis to come up and dig round the tree; he thinks it is dying."
Elizabeth threw up her arms in silence, more expressive of agony than a shriek.
"It has come at last!" broke from her white lips. "It has come at last!"
Elsie cowered down upon the sofa and buried her head in the cushions, shaking with hysterical tremors from head to foot, and uttering repressed sobs.
"Exposure—ruin—disgrace!" moaned Elizabeth, as if repeating words that some secret voice whispered in her ear. "It has come at last! It has come at last!"
"I shall die!" shrieked Elsie. "I shall go mad!"
She beat the couch wildly with her clenched hands and gave way to a violent nervous spasm, but this time Elizabeth made no effort to soothe her; she stood there, cold and white, repeating at intervals, in that dismal whisper:
"It has come at last! It has come at last!"
"Do something," sobbed Elsie. "Don't stand there as if you were turning to stone. Think of some way to stop them."
"What can I do?" returned Elizabeth. "I tell you it has come! I knew it, I have been expecting it!"