'No doubt,' he thought, 'women have keener feelings than we have.'
At that moment Julia got up from her knees. She had brushed away her tears.
Her face was shaken with grief.
'My heart is breaking,' she said. 'This is too cruel--too cruel! And on my
wedding night.'
Their eyes met; and, divining each other's thought, each felt ashamed, and
Julia said--
'Oh, what am I saying? This dreadful selfishness, from which we cannot
escape, that is with us even in such a moment as this! That poor child gone
to her death, and yet amid it all we must think of ourselves.'
'My dear Julia, we cannot escape from our human nature; but, for all that,
our grief is sincere. We can do nothing. Do not grieve like that.'
'And why not? She was my best friend. How have I repaid her? Alas! as woman
always repays woman for kindness done. The old story. I cannot forgive
myself. No, no! do not kiss me! I cannot bear it. Leave me. I can see
nothing but Emily's reproachful face.' She covered her face in her hands
and sobbed again.
The same scenes repeated themselves over and over again. The same fits of
passionate grief; the same moment of calm, when words impregnated with self
dropped from their lips. The same nervous sense that something of the dead
girl stood between them.
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