"Oh, Cecilia! Cecilia! leave me for God's sake--I can't bear it any longer!" The governess parted them.

Emily dropped into the chair that her friend had left.

Even her hopeful nature sank under the burden of life at that moment.
A hard voice, speaking close at her side, startled her.
"Would you rather be Me," the voice asked, "without a creature to care for you ?" Emily raised her head.

Francine, the unnoticed witness of the parting interview, was standing by her, idly picking the leaves from a rose which had dropped out of Cecilia's nosegay.
Had she felt her own isolated position?
She had felt it resentfully.
Emily looked at her, with a heart softened by sorrow.

There was no answering kindness in the eyes of Miss de Sor--there was only a dogged endurance, sad to see in a creature so young.
"You and Cecilia are going to write to each other," she said.