"What is the matter, Lizzie?" — her companion ventured timidly. But Elizabeth gave no answer; and neither of them stirred for many minutes, an occasional uneasy flutter of Rose's being the exception. The question at last was asked over again, and responded to.
"That my father has disgraced himself, and that you are the cause!"
"There's no disgrace," said Rose.
"Don't say he has not!" said Elizabeth, looking up with an eye that glared upon her adversary. "And before he had done it, I wish you had never been born, — or I."
"It's no harm, —" said Rose confusedly.
"Harm! — harm, —" repeated Elizabeth; then putting her face down again; "Oh! — what's the use of living, in such a world!"
"I don't see what harm it does to you," said Rose, muttering her words.
"Harm?" repeated Elizabeth. "If it was right to wish it, — which I believe it isn't, — I could wish that I was dead. It almost seems to me I wish I were!"
"You're not sure about it," said Rose.
"No, I am not," said Elizabeth looking up at her again with eyes of fire and a face from which pain and passion had driven all but livid colour, — but looking at her steadily, — "because there is something after death; and I am not sure that I am ready for it. I dare not say I wish I was dead, Rose Cadwallader, or you would drive me to it!"