of my calling
in a doctor. And suddenly, in the middle of the night, when we were
both asleep, I was wakened by a sound, and I don't know what was
wrong--he was struggling, he seemed to be choking, and after just the
shortest time he was still, and anyone could see how it was. We were
so frightened we didn't know what to do. We didn't dare call anybody,
and Jess got so scared thinking all sorts of things which might
happen, how we might be called to account before the law, that, will
you believe it, she wouldn't stay with me a second longer. She put on
her things and the instant it was light off she started for her home.
Then--I can never tell you how I did it. I dressed him and wrapped
him up and wound my veil around his head, and I asked for my carriage,
and I haven't stopped since, except to feed and water the horse----"

"Do you mean ..." gasped Celia.

"Yes.... Outside...."

Celia pressed her drained face to her knees and beat the bedclothes
with her hands.

"That's the way I feel, too," said Judith, with a dizzy movement of
her hand across her forehead, "I want to scream aloud till I go mad."

Celia was moaning into the covers.

"Stop, stop, you poor thing!" Judith's breath caught in her
throat, and her hand travelled tremblingly toward Celia's shoulder,
"Oh, I know--I know how you feel! Don't.... Don't!... you poor
thing. I've been and done it, haven't I.... There was no one--no one
like him, nor ever will be again. A human flower, wasn't he?... And
why I should come here to the one I've hurt most and who must hate me
worst, I don't know.... I suppose it's the way criminals give
themselves up. Unless it's because, as I've hated you so, and had good
reason to, and you've known it, I felt you would understand better
than the others. Then, you've got brains, you can tell me what to
do. After driving those millions of miles with that poor angel like
lead upon my arm, I haven't an idea in my head beside ... I'm afraid
to go to my father--" She shivered. "He's been sick of my pranks
for some time. You will stand by me, Celia Compton, just for the
first?... I could have been devoted to you, if you had let me....
You know I was never anything but a soft-hearted fool--and now to
have upon my soul the responsibility of this ghastliness...."

Celia had got up, and with the dainty carefulness forming part in her
of that second nature which stands us in stead when the directing
faculties are dazed, was fastening up h