"No, no, aunty, don't mind. Oh! what matter is it whether I am ill or not? If it wasn't for you, and Guardy, and all the rest, I feel as if I should like to lie down and die!"
"My own little darling, you must not talk of dying; every one has trouble in this world, and you cannot expect to escape!"
"Yes; I know, I know! Hitherto, life has been to me a fairy dream; and now this terrible awakening to reality! Life seemed to me one long, golden summer day; and now—and now——"
"You are excited, love; lie down, and try to sleep—you talk too much."
"Yes, I know; I always did talk too much; but I do not think I will ever talk much again. Oh, aunty! I have heard of the heart-ache, but I never knew what it was before!"
"My love, you must not feel this so deeply. How wild your eyes are! and your hands are burning hot! Do lie down, and try to rest."
"Rest! rest! Shall I ever find rest again?"
"Of course you will, my dear. Now what shall I tell the squire is your decision about this? I promised him to talk to you about it."
"Oh, aunty, don't—don't! Leave me alone, and let me think—I cannot talk to you now!"
"Shall I bring you up ice for your head, my dear?"