“Oh, don’t do that; don’t do that!” cried Elise. “Think of your dear mama and your father. Oh, you could never have a fault that would make you need to do anything that would make them so unhappy!”
Lucy laughed her bitter little laugh.
“I think I will tell you what has happened,” she said, “and then you can see just how I feel.”
“Can you not tell to someone more wise than I?” asked Elise, her dismay growing. “I will be so glad to listen, but for advice, I am so ignorant, so what you call it? I speak your English so poorly, that maybe I say to you the wrong thing.”
“You needn’t say anything,” said Lucy. “You were so good to come and speak to me, and I want to talk to someone. I had advice from Miss Hooker but I shall not take it.”
“Was it not good advice?” asked Elise, who thought every word that Miss Hooker uttered was a pearl of wisdom.
“I suppose so,” said Lucy with a sneer, “but she does not understand. Oh, Elise, I shall die, I am so unhappy.”
“No,” said Elise softly, “you will not die so. If it could be, I would be dead long since but I am not, and I am happy—so very, very happy just as my most dear ones who are dead would wish me to be. So it will be with you.”
“I want to talk to you,” said Lucy.