itter anguish. The storm without was
not half so violent as the storm within, and the blinding flakes which
swept from the bitter sky raged upon a no more barren, frozen, desolate
soil than her own selfish heart.

There may be a kind of pity for such a woman; there should be pity for
every form of human suffering, or even depravity; but in my mind there
should be none to verge from pity into palliation and excuse for this
woman. Great as was her mental suffering, there was in it not a single
touch of remorse. Terribly as her mind was racked and tortured with
doubt, uncertainty, fear, and despair, there was in it no trace of the
womanhood which, however low it may descend, is still capable of regret.
She was not heart-sick for the life she was leading, but dreaded the
punishment she knew it deserved. Her nature had never shrunk from the
countless miseries she had entailed on others, and her heart never
misgave her only in the absence of her kind of happiness or in the
superstitious fear of the evils which she felt assured were constantly
her due. She was, as far as I ever knew, or can conceive, a soulless
woman whose troubles only produced vindictiveness, whose utter aim in
life was social piracy, whose injuries only begat hate, and whose
sufferings only concentrated her exhaustless hunger and thirst for
revenge.

After the first burst of rage and passion, she settled down into a
condition of deep study and planning, and about the middle of the
afternoon began passing in and out and visiting various places, in a way
which, though it might not particularly attract attention, yet betokened
some business project being resolutely and quietly carried out.

During one of the periods when she was within her apartments, quite a
commotion was raised in the lower story, the stores of which were
occupied by a tobacconist and milliner, by a call from a prominent
undertaker of Main Street, who with a mysterious air exhibited the
following note, at the same time asking whispered conundrums about it.

"MR. BOXEM:

"DEAR SIR--Please quietly deliver a full-sized coffin at No.
-- South St. Paul Street, at the first room to the right of
the stairway as it reaches the third floor. Enclosed please
find five dollars, in part payment. Will make it an object to
you to ask no questions below, and deliver the coffin as soon
after dark as possible.

(Signed) "MRS. A. J. W----."

Mr.