in their decision to keep perfectly silent, and, if it
were God's will that their child must die in consequence, they must
accept it submissively, rather than advise her to do wrong.

From that day Angelique was obliged to keep in her room. Her weakness
increased so rapidly and to such a degree that she could no longer go
down to the workroom. Did she attempt to walk, her head became dizzy
at once and her limbs bent under her. At first, by the aid of the
furniture, she was able to get to the balcony. Later, she was obliged
to content herself with going from her armchair to her bed. Even that
distance seemed long to her, and she only tried it in the morning and
evening, she was so exhausted.

However, she still worked, giving up the embroidery in bas-relief as
being too difficult, and simply making use of coloured silks. She copied
flowers after Nature, from a bunch of hydrangeas and hollyhocks, which,
having no odour, she could keep in her room. The bouquet was in full
bloom in a large vase, and often she would rest for several minutes as
she looked at it with pleasure, for even the light silks were too heavy
for her fingers. In two days she had made one flower, which was fresh
and bright as it shone upon the satin; but this occupation was her
life, and she would use her needle until her last breath. Softened by
suffering, emaciated by the inner fever that was consuming her, she
seemed now to be but a spirit, a pure and beautiful flame that would
soon be extinguished.

Why was it necessary to struggle any longer if Felicien did not love
her? Now she was dying with this conviction; not only had he no love for
her to-day, but perhaps he had never really cared for her. So long as
her strength lasted she had contended against her heart, her health, and
her youth, all of which urged her to go and join him. But now that she
was unable to move, she must resign herself and accept her fate.

One morning, as Hubert placed her in her easy chair, and put a cushion
under her little, motionless feet, she said, with a smile:

"Ah! I am sure of being good now, and not trying to run away."

Hubert hastened to go downstairs, that she might not see his tears.

CHAPTER XV

It was impossible for Angelique to sleep that night. A nervous
wakefulness kept her burning eyelids from closing, and her extreme
weakness seemed greater than ever. The Huberts had gone to their room,
and at last, when it was near midnight, so great a fear c