He sat in the seat prepared for him, but, instead of eating, he thrust his hands after his accustomed manner into his pockets and sat glowering at the teacups.
'Come, Alaric, won't you eat your breakfast ?' said she.
'No; breakfast! no-how can I eat now?
how can you think that I could eat at such a time as this?
Do you take yours; never mind me.' 'But, dearest, you will be faint if you do not eat; think what you have to go through; remember how many eyes will be on you to-day.' He shuddered violently as she spoke, and motioned to her with his hand not to go on with what she was saying.
'I know, I know,' said she passionately, 'dearest, dearest love--I know how dreadful it is; would that I could bear it for you! would that I could!' He turned away his head, for a tear was in his eye.

It was the first that had come to his assistance since this sorrow had come upon him.
'Don't turn from me, dearest Alaric; do not turn from me now at our last moments.

To me at least you are the same noble Alaric that you ever were.' 'Noble!' said he, with all the self-scorn which he so truly felt.
'To me you are, now as ever; but, Alaric, I do so fear that you will want strength, physical strength, you know, to go through all this.

I would have you bear yourself like a man before them all.' 'It will be but little matter,' said he.
'It will be matter.

It will be matter to me.