"I will do nothing you don't like, dear," said Dorothy. "I thought that was the best thing I could do for you."
"No! no! no! any thing but that!"
"Then of course I won't. But I must go and get you something to eat."
"I could not swallow a mouthful; it would choke me. And where would be the good of it, when life is over!"
"Don't talk like that, dear. Life can't be over till it is taken from us."
"Ah, you would see it just as I do, if you knew all!"
"Tell me all, then."
"Where is the use, when there is no help?"
"No help!" echoed Dorothy.—The words she had so often uttered in her own heart, coming from the lips of another, carried in them an incredible contradiction.—Could God make or the world breed the irreparable?—"Juliet," she went on, after a little pause, "I have often said the same myself, but—"
"You!" interrupted Juliet; "you who always professed to believe!"