was a strange case of intended poisoning, which had never been
carried out. A young married lady of rank, whose name was concealed
under an initial letter, had suffered some unendurable wrong (which
was not mentioned) at the hands of her husband's mother. The wife
was described as a woman of strong passions, who had determined on a
terrible revenge by taking the life of her mother-in-law. There
were difficulties in the way of her committing the crime without an
accomplice to help her; and she decided on taking her maid, an elderly
woman, into her confidence. The poison was secretly obtained by this
person; and the safest manner of administering it was under discussion
between the mistress and the maid, when the door of the room was
suddenly opened. The husband, accompanied by his brother, rushed in, and
charged his wife with plotting the murder of his mother. The young lady
(she was only twenty-three) must have been a person of extraordinary
courage and resolution. She saw at once that her maid had betrayed her,
and, with astonishing presence of mind, she turned on the traitress,
and said to her husband: "There is the wretch who has been trying to
persuade me to poison your mother!" As it happened, the old lady's
temper was violent and overbearing; and the maid had complained of
being ill-treated by her, in the hearing of the other servants. The
circumstances made it impossible to decide which of the two was really
the guilty woman. The servant was sent away, and the husband and wife
separated soon afterward, under the excuse of incompatibility of
temper. Years passed; and the truth was only discovered by the death-bed
confession of the wife. A remarkable story, which has made such an
impression on me that I have written it in my Journal. I am not rich
enough to buy the book.

For the last two days, I have been confined to my room with a bad
feverish cold--caught, as I suppose, by sitting at an open window
reading my book till nearly three o'clock in the morning. I sent a note
to Philip, telling him of my illness. On the first day, he called to
inquire after me. On the second day, no visit, and no letter. Here is
the third day--and no news of him as yet. I am better, but not fit to go
out. Let me wait another hour, and, if that exertion of patience meets
with no reward, I shall send a note to the hotel. No news of Philip. I
have sent to the hotel. The servant has just returned, bringing me back
my note. The waiter in