"After several failures I at last got the imp into perfect unconsciousness. She was lying on her white bed, more like a ghost than a human being. I stood over her; the dim outline of her person was just visible, but my hand crept slowly through the darkness, grasping the bottle, which was already uncorked. I was resolute. There was no tremor of heart or hand to hold me back. Slowly and steadily she inhaled the drug. Her breath stopped—her hand, which I grasped in mine, was growing cold, when I heard a scraping noise behind me. In an instant the room was illuminated with pale blue light. I turned in horror, and saw the girl Lottie and Miss Hyde, both pale as death, gazing upon me. I escaped them almost by a miracle. Cora came to my aid, and, quick as a flash of lightning, changed the bottle in my hand for another, while Miss Hyde was absolutely holding me in her arms. The whole family were aroused, but I received them calmly: the moment of peril had passed, and, instead of sinking, my energies rose to the conflict. But after I reached my room, the reaction was terrible. I fell from one fainting fit to another until morning.
"That girl Lottie suspects me. No fox waiting for prey was ever more vigilant. I dare not venture to that room again.
"An idea struck me this afternoon. A few words, spoken sadly and secretly by the sick woman, revealed means of reaching the end I wish, which are entirely free from danger, and may lead to other results. Let me think; let me plan. Why did this idea never present itself before?
"'To think that he did not love me, would be death,' she said. I felt the blood leap from my heart. This sentence revealed a terrible power which might safely be used. A power so subtle and deep-working that no human being would ever guess at its fatal effects.
"I have written this woman a letter, so completely imitating Jessie Lee's handwriting that no human being can detect the difference. In that letter I have accused myself of attempting to entrap Mr. Lee, and of usurping the affections that should belong to his wife. I have pointed out proof after proof that he has ceased to regard her, and is becoming weary of the life her illness forces upon him. I have warned her that his love is already given to another, and that her very life is becoming burdensome to him.
"The letter is adroitly written, but has no signature. Who could suppose any woman capable of maligning herself? I have sent it to the mail. It will reach her to-morrow. I cannot sleep to-night. Work like this requires a heart of brass and nerves of steel.
"It is done. She got the letter while we were out riding. When we came back, her heart was broken—poor thing, poor woman! I almost wish it had not been done. The feeling of terror that seized upon me when I saw their white faces, was awful. A faint sickness crept over me, but I must go on and face the work I had done.
"I kissed her while she was dying. Did Judas feel so when he betrayed the Saviour? No wonder he went out and killed himself. A drop of her life-blood clung to my lips. I washed it off again and again, but it burns there yet—it burns there yet....
"Weeks have passed, mostly in solitude, for we keep apart from each other, and meet gloomily when forced into domestic companionship. I am sure this man loves me, though as yet he has given no sign. I am equally sure that the other inmates of the house hate me.
"I have written to Lawrence, explaining away many things that drove him from the neighborhood. I have told him that Jessie Lee is not engaged—that she has loved him from the first. This will bring him back. Let him marry her; his presence is my life. That much at least will be secured.