"Ask Mrs. Linwood to excuse me from supper," said I; "I do not wish any, indeed I do not." Well, I am not one of the air plants; I must have something more substantial than sentiment, or I should pine with green and yellow hunger, not melancholy. I never cried but once, that I recollect, and that was when a favorite black cat of mine was killed,--maliciously, villanously killed, by an old maid, just because she devoured her favorite Canary. No, with the daughter of Jephthah, I exclaimed,-- 'Let my memory still be thy pride, And forget not I smiled as I died.' Shutting, or rather slamming the door, she bounded down the stairs with the steps of the chamois. I had not finished my mother's history, but I had passed the _breakers_. There could be nothing beyond so fearful and wrecking. The remainder was brief, and written at times with a weak and failing hand. * * * * * "How long I remained in that deadly swoon," continued the manuscript, "I know not. When I recovered, I was lying on my bed, with Peggy standing on one side and a physician on the other. As soon as I looked up, Peggy burst into tears. "'Thank God!' she sobbed, 'I thought she was dead.' "'Hush!' said the doctor; 'let her be kept perfectly quiet. Give her this composing draught, and let no one be admitted to her chamber,--not even her child.' "Child! it all came back to me. Where was she, that dreadful woman? Starting up in bed, I looked wildly round the room for the haunting phantom,--she was not a reality,--I must have had a terrible dream. "'Yes!' said the doctor, answering the expression of my countenance, 'you have had a shocking nightmare. Drink this, and you will awake refreshed.' "Yielding passively, I drank the colorless fluid he offered me, and sinking back on my pillow passed into a deep and tranquil sleep. When I awoke, the silence and darkness of night brooded around me. My mind now was clear as crystal, and every image appeared with startling distinctness. I lay still and calm, revolving what course to pursue; and as I lay and revolved, doubts of the truth of her story grew stronger and stronger. All my husband's love and tenderness rose in remembrance, vindicating his aspersed honor. She had forged the tale,--she had stolen the picture,--she was an impostor and a wretch. "At morning light, I awakened Peggy, and demanded of her what had occurred during my insensible state, and what had become of the strange woman. Peggy said that the piercing shrieks of the stranger brought her to the parlor, where I lay like a corpse on the carpet, and she kneeling over me, ringing her hands, and uttering unintelligible words. "'You have killed her,' cried Peggy, pushing back the stranger, and taking me in her strong arms. "'_Je le sais, mon Dieu, je le sais_,' exclaimed she, lifting her clasped hands to heaven. Peggy did not understand French, but she repeated the words awkwardly enough, yet I could interpret them.