We
were out together; again I let them walk ahead, and kept far behind
them, saying to myself: "This is my life!" But it was unendurable. I
rejoined them, and slipped in between them; I cannot yet look upon
them side by side, neither actually nor in my imagination.
This does not mean that I shall not abide by my decision. Only three
days more; I must hasten. Yet these are the last days I have to
live; mingled with my pain is the last drop of joy I may taste upon
this earth. And yet, having their love, I dare not think of death.
It dawned upon me to-day that Constance knows; she is pale, and much
troubled. Poor little one.
_July 12th._--To-morrow it must be. I meant to tell him to-night,
but I could not.
It is half-past ten. Aunt Caroline has just been to my room, bless
her! I thought she was in bed.
"Have you room for this in your trunk, Milly?" she said. "I should
like you to hang it up in your room wherever you go."
It was a text she had painted for me. Written in gold among sprays
of lilies-of-the-valley shone "God is Love." Poor soul! she ought to
know.
Yes, to-morrow I shall tell him.
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