d her brown hair to
a dull white she had thought of death in but one way--escape. Set free
from the insufferable bondage of earthly existence. Miss Evelina
dreamed of peace as a prisoner in a dungeon may dream of green fields.
To sleep and wake no more, never to feel again the cold hand upon her
heart that tore persistently at the inmost fibres of it, to forget----

Miss Evelina took the vial from her bag and uncorked it. The incense
of the poppies crept subtly through the room, mingling inextricably
with the mustiness and the dust. The grey cobwebs swayed at the
windows, sunset touching them to iridescence. Conscious that she was
the most desolate and lonely thing in all the desolate house, Miss
Evelina buried her face in her hands.

The poppies breathed from the vial. In her distorted fancy, she saw
vast plains of them, shimmering in the sun--scarlet like the lips of a
girl, pink as the flush of dawn upon the eastern sky, blood-red as the
passionate heart that never dreamed of betrayal.

The sun was shining on the field of poppies and Miss Evelina walked
among them, her face unveiled. Golden masses of bloom were spread at
her feet, starred here and there by stately blossoms as white as the
blown snow. Her ragged garments touched the silken petals, her worn
shoes crushed them, bud and blossom alike. Always, the numbing, sleepy
odour came from the field. Dew was on the petals of the flowers; their
deep cups gathered it and held it, never to be surrendered, since the
dew of the poppies was tears.

Like some evil genius rising from the bottle, the Spirit of the Poppies
seemed to incarnate itself in the vapour. A woman with a face of
deadly white arose to meet Miss Evelina, with outspread arms. In her
eyes was Lethe, in her hands was the gift of forgetfulness. She
brought pardon for all that was past and to come, eternal healing,
unfathomable oblivion. "Come," the drowsy voice seemed to say. "I
have waited long and yet you do not come. The peace that passeth all
understanding is mine to give and yours to take. Come--only come!
Come! Come!"

Miss Evelina laughed bitterly. Never in all the years gone by had the
Spirit of the Poppies pleaded with her thus. Now, at the hour when
surrender meant the complete triumph of her enemy, the ghostly figure
came to offer her the last and supreme gift.

The afterglow yet lingered in the west. The grey of a March twilight
was in the valley, but it was still lat