that had been practised on her; with the consciousness, now firm and unalterable, that it had become impossible for her to live.  When the clock struck she got up from her chair, and the movement seemed to react on her brain; her thoughts unclouded, and she went up-stairs thinking clearly of her love of this old house.  The old gentleman in the red coat, his hand on his sword, looked on her benignly; and the lady playing the spinet smiled as sweetly as was her wont.  Emily held up the candle to the picture of the windmill.  She had always loved that picture, and the sad thought came that she should never see it again.  Dandy, who had galloped up-stairs, stood looking through the banisters, wagging his tail.

The moment she got into her room she wrote the following note:  ’I have taken an overdose of chloral.  My life was too miserable to be borne any longer.  I forgive those who have caused my unhappiness, and I hope they will forgive me any unhappiness I have caused them.’  They were nothing to her now; they were beyond her hate, and the only pang she felt was parting with her beloved Dandy.  There he stood looking at her, standing on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to cover him up and put him to sleep in his own corner.  ‘Yes, Dandy, in a moment, dear—­have patience.’  She looked round the little room, and, remembering all that she had suffered there, thought that the walls must be saturated with grief, like a sponge.

It was a common thing at that time for her to stand before the glass and address such words as these to herself:  ’My poor girl, how I pity you, how I pity you!’ And now, looking at herself very sadly, she said, ’My poor girl, I shall never pity you any more!’ Having hung up her dress, she fetched a chair and took various doses of chloral out of the hollow top of her wardrobe, where she had hidden things all her life—­sweets, novels, fireworks.  They more than half-filled the tumbler; and, looking at the sticky, white liquid, she thought with repugnance of drinking so much of it.  But, wanting to make quite sure of death, she resolved to take it all, and she undressed quickly.  She was very cold when she got into bed.  Then a thought struck her, and she got out of bed to add a postscript to her letter.  ’I have only one request to make.  I hope Dandy will always be taken care of.’  Surprised that she had not wrapped him up and told him he was to go to sleep, the dog stood on the edge of the bed, watching her so earnestly that she wondered if he knew what she was going to do.  ’No, you don’t know, dear—­do you?  If you did, you wouldn’t let me do it; you’d bark the house down, I know you would, my own darling.’  Clasping him to her breast, she smothered him with kisses, then put him away in his corner, covering him over for the night.