forget you instantly, and fall in love with any and every other woman he sees."
"No, only with that woman with the unpronounceable name that he used to dance with; a very dangerous woman, Aunt Sarah."
"That he is to be smashed in the railroad to Folkestone, drowned off Antwerp, and finally die of a fever at Berlin; and that in the meanwhile you are to have a dead child immediately, twins soon after, a very bad confinement, besides dying of consumption, and various other maladies," pursued Aunt Sarah in her steadiest tone. "Now, if those things are not vain imaginings, Blanche, I do not know what are."
"They sound plausible, though; and, I assure you, Aunt, I did not imagine them; they suggested themselves, and they look very like the ordinary facts of life. However, I grant it is a bad habit to look forward to evils that may not occur; but then, you know, I am ill. I never had these grey thoughts when I was strong, and Arthur's going away has turned
