had entered that room, for the purpose of
writing some prescriptions, and had found the leaves of paper that he
used diminished in number. After what he had heard, and what he had
discovered (to say nothing of what he suspected), it occurred to him
to look along the shelves of his medical library. He found a volume
(treating of Poisons) with a slip of paper left between the leaves; the
poison described at the place so marked being Digitalis, and the paper
used being one of his own prescription-papers. "If, as I fear, a legal
investigation into Helena's conduct is a possible event," the doctor
concluded, "there is the evidence that I shall be obliged to give, when
I am called as a witness."

It is my belief that I could have felt no greater dismay, if the long
arm of the Law had laid its hold on me while he was speaking. I asked
what was to be done.

"If she leaves the house at once," the doctor replied, "she may escape
the infamy of being charged with an attempt at murder by poison; and,
in her absence, I can answer for Philip's life. I don't urge you to warn
her, because that might be a dangerous thing to do. It is for you to
decide, as a member of the family, whether you will run the risk."

I tried to speak to him of Euneece, and to tell him what I had already
related to yourself. He was in no humor to listen to me. "Keep it for a
fitter time," he answered; "and think of what I have just said to you."
With that, he left me, on his way to Philip's room.

Mental exertion was completely beyond me. Can you understand a poor
middle-aged spinster being frightened into doing a dangerous thing? That
may seem to be nonsense. But if you ask why I took a morsel of paper,
and wrote the warning which I was afraid to communicate by word of
mouth--why I went upstairs with my knees knocking together, and
opened the door of Helena's room just wide enough to let my hand pass
through--why I threw the paper in, and banged the door to again, and
ran downstairs as I have never run since I was a little girl--I can
only say, in the way of explanation, what I have said already: I was
frightened into doing it.

What I have written, thus far, I shall send to you by to-night's post.

The doctor came back to me, after he had seen Philip, and spoken with
Euneece. He was very angry; and, I must own, not without reason. Philip
had flatly refused to let himself be removed to the hospital; and
Euneece--"a mere girl"--had declared that she woul