re. It was that which affected me and
drew me into crime against my will. Besides, I did not know--not at
first--what was in the little bowl of curds and cream I carried to the
girl each day. She had eaten them in her step-mother's room, and under
her step-mother's eye as long as she had strength to pass from room
to room, and how was I to guess that it was not wholesome? Because
she failed in health from day to day? Was not my dear madam failing in
health also; and was there poison in her cup? Innocent at that time, why
am I not innocent now? Because--Oh, I will tell it all; as though at the
bar of God. I will tell all the secrets of that day.
"She was sitting with her hand trembling on the tray from which I had
just lifted the bowl she had bid me carry to Helena. I had seen her so
a hundred times before, but not with just that look in her eyes, or just
that air of desolation in her stony figure. Something made me speak;
something made me ask if she were not quite so well as usual, and
something made her reply with the dreadful truth that the doctor had
given her just two months more to live. My fright and mad anguish
stupefied me; for I was not prepared for this, no, not at all;--and
unconsciously I stared down at the bowl I held, unable to breathe or
move or even to meet her look."
As usual she misinterpreted my emotion.
"'Why do you stand like that?' I heard her say in a tone of great
irritation. 'And why do you stare into that bowl? Do you think I mean
to leave that child to walk these halls after I am carried out of them
forever? Do you measure my hate by such a petty yard-stick as that? I
tell you that I would rot above ground rather than enter it before she
did?'
"I had believed I knew this woman; but what soul ever knows another's?
What soul ever knows itself?
"'Bella!' I cried; the first time I had ever presumed to address her
so intimately. 'Would you poison the girl?' And from sheer weakness my
fingers lost their clutch, and the bowl fell to the floor, breaking into
a dozen pieces.
"For a minute she stared down at these from over her tray, and then she
remarked very low and very quietly:
"'Another bowl, Humphrey, and fresh curds from the kitchen. I will do
the seasoning. The doses are too small to be skipped. You won't?'--I had
shaken my head--'But you will! It will not be the first time you have
gone down the hall with this mixture.'
"'But that was before I knew--' I began.
"'And now th
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