uge box was brought into the room to-night. It seemed to cause her
dread rather than pleasure, for she shrank at sight of it, and has not
yet attempted to open it. But her eyes have never left it since it was
set down on the floor. It looks like a dressmaker's box, but why such
emotion over a gown?

"Wednesday.

"This morning she opened the box but did not display its contents. I
caught one glimpse of a mass of tissue paper, and then she put the cover
on again, and for a good half hour sat crouching down beside it,
shuddering like one in an ague-fit. I began to feel there was something
deadly in the box, her eyes wandered towards it so frequently and with
such contradictory looks of dread and savage determination. When she
got up it was to see how many more minutes of the wretched day had
passed.

"Thursday.

"Party sick; did not try to leave her bed. Breakfast brought up by Mrs.
Desberger, who showed her every attention, but could not prevail upon
her to eat. Yet she would not let the tray be taken away, and when she
was alone again or thought herself alone, she let her eyes rest so long
on the knife lying across her plate, that I grew nervous and could
hardly restrain myself from rushing into the room. But I remembered my
instructions, and kept still even when I saw her hand steal towards this
possible weapon, though I kept my own on the bell-rope which fortunately
hung at my side. She looked quite capable of wounding herself with the
knife, but after balancing it a moment in her hand, she laid it down
again and turned with a low moan to the wall. She will not attempt death
till she has accomplished what is in her mind.

"Friday.

"All is right in the next room; that is, the young lady is up; but there
is another change in her appearance since last night. She has grown
contemptuous of herself and indulges less in brooding. But her
impatience at the slow passage of time continues, and her interest in
the box is even greater than before. She does not open it, however, only
looks at it and lays her trembling hand now and then on the cover.

"Saturday.

"A blank day. Party dull and very quiet. Her eyes begin to look like
ghastly hollows in her pale face. She talks to herself continually, but
in a low mechanical way exceedingly wearing to the listener, especially
as no word can be distinguished. Tried to see her in her own room
to-day, but she would not admit me.

"Sunday.

"I have noticed from the first a Bi