And so it followed that Sybil passed a whole, good, peaceful fortnight in the company of her husband, her three devoted friends, her faithful servants, and her little pets.
But at length, early in January, sympathy on the one hand and curiosity on the other prevailed over every feeling and reason, and Sybil's neighbors, both detractors and defenders, began to call on her.
But Mrs. Berners had penetration enough to know her friends from her foes, and so she felt no hesitation and made no mistakes when she welcomed the visits of the first and declined those of the last mentioned.
So the winter slipped away peacefully enough, and Sybil seldom remembered what her friends tried to make her forget—the heavy cloud that still hung over her fate.
She was reminded of it only when her counsel came to consult with her; but then they always wore cheerful countenances, and spoke hopeful words that inspired her with confidence and courage.
Sometimes indeed, the recollection of the awful crisis that could not be shunned, that must be met, would come to her in the middle watches of the night, and fill her soul with horror; but with the first beams of the morning sun, this darkness of her spirit, like the darkness of the hour, would pass away.
It was in all the reviving life and budding beauty of early spring, that the Criminal Court resumed its sittings at Blackville.
The case of Sybil Berners, charged with the murder of Rosa Blondelle, was the very first upon the docket.
It was a day as bright, beautiful, and glorious as any day that ever dawned, when the summons came that called Mrs. Berners up to the court to be put upon trial for her life.