‘No; I will never put any of them on till I am obliged to,’ said Fulvia sullenly. They were both silent for a little while, till Fulvia, presently leaning forward on the sofa, and clasping her hands round her knees, said: ‘Signora!’ ‘Yes?’ ‘Mamma says I am to be married in three weeks.’ ‘So soon?’ ‘Sometimes I think it is awfully soon. Then, again, I have another feeling, which is, that three weeks may mean--never. I have such strange sensations in my mind. I hardly know how to explain them to you. I feel as if the time would go on and on, and all this foolish making of dresses, and buying of jewellery might go on too, till the time comes, and that then I shall not know anything more, but shall somehow be away, out of it all, flying about in space; as if I should have become something else--not a girl--not a human creature any more. I shall be free from all this pain and fear, and from all this weight which seems to be bound on to my head, and round it; but at the same time, I shall have forgotten all the things I used to know. I shall not remember any more what the earth was like, or what Rome was. All the dreadful things will be forgotten--but all the good things too. For instance, I should have forgotten mamma and Signor Marchmont, as if I had never known them; but I should have forgotten you too, and Beppo. I do not wish to forget you, and to forget Beppo would mean to forget all the greatest happiness I have ever had.’ ‘You must not indulge in such fancies. Grief and joy always go together here. You will not forget us, any more than we shall forget you.’ ‘For the last few days, Signor Marchmont has talked about what “we” shall do when we are married,’ pursued Fulvia, unheeding Minna’s futile remark. ‘He has kept asking me questions, and expecting answers to them. It was dreadful before, when I only had to listen, but now--to have to answer these questions is frightful. If I could be silent always--if I were quite sure that I should never need to speak a word again, I think I could go through anything. But this talking--my head feels so strange!’ she added, putting her hand up to it. ‘Do you think I shall be able to bear three weeks more of this, without something happening? Don’t you think something is sure to happen before then?’ Minna, speechlessly, put out her hand to take that of Fulvia, and while she held it and sought wildly in her soul for something that might carry comfort, she saw all at once that a change had come over Fulvia’s face--a stiffness into her attitude. The hand was cold, the face was white. She evidently neither heard nor saw anything more, and her figure began to sway when she stood, for she had risen from her seat while describing her sensations to Minna. The latter sprang from her chair, caught her in time to prevent her falling, and half pulled, half led her toward the sofa, and got her on to it. There she lay, in a dead faint.