“When I answered the bell, at the time I have mentioned, I found the deceased standing at the fireplace. There was a bottle of medicine on the table, by her writing desk. It was a much larger bottle than that which the last witness identified, and it was more than three parts full of some colourless medicine. The deceased gave me a prescription to take to the chemist’s, with instructions to wait, and bring back the physic. She said, ‘I don’t feel at all well this morning; I thought of trying some of this medicine,’ pointing to the bottle by her desk; ‘but I am not sure it is the right thing for me. I think I want a tonic. The prescription I have given you is a tonic.’ I went out at once to our chemist and got it. I found her writing a letter when I came back, but she finished it immediately, and pushed it away from her. When I put the bottle I had brought from the chemist on the table, she looked at the other larger bottle which she had by her; and she said, ‘You will think me very undecided; I have been doubting, since I sent you to the chemist, whether I had not better begin with this medicine here, before I try the tonic. It’s a medicine for the stomach; and I fancy it’s only indigestion that’s the matter with me, after all.’ I said, ‘You eat but a poor breakfast, ma’am, this morning. It isn’t for me to advise; but, as you seem to be in doubt about yourself, wouldn’t it be better to send for a doctor?’ She shook her head, and said she didn’t want to have a doctor if she could possibly help it. ‘I’ll try the medicine for indigestion first,’ she says; ‘and if it doesn’t relieve me, we will see what is to be done, later in the day.’ While we were talking, the tonic was left in its sealed paper cover, just as I had brought it from the shop. She took up the bottle containing the stomach medicine, and read the directions on it: ‘Two tablespoonsful by measure-glass twice a day.’ I asked if she had a measure-glass; and she said, Yes, and sent me to her bedroom to look for it. I couldn’t find it. While I was looking, I heard her cry out, and ran back to the drawing-room to see what was the matter. ‘Oh!’ she says, ‘how clumsy I am! I’ve broken the bottle.’ She held up the bottle of the stomach medicine and showed it to me, broken just below the neck. ‘Go back to the bedroom,’ she says, ‘and see if you can find an empty bottle; I don’t want to waste the medicine if I can help it.’ There was only one empty bottle in the bedroom, a bottle on the chimney-piece. I took it to her immediately. She gave me the broken bottle; and while I poured the medicine into the bottle which I had found in the bedroom, she opened the paper which covered the tonic I had brought from the chemist. When I had done, and the two bottles were together on the table--the bottle that I had filled, and the bottle that I had brought front the chemist--I noticed that they were both of the same size, and that both had a label pasted on them, marked ‘Poison.’ I