glancing casually at herself in the glass, she started back and held up the light to ascertain whether it were indeed herself or some fearful vision she saw therein reflected. Her hair hung over one cheek, and the other was ghastly pale, save where the blood had trickled from the wound in her forehead, and had left dark stains; her eyes were distended and fixed, and a fiend seemed to look out from their depths; her features were pinched and comprest, and the last few minutes of mental anguish had wrought the work of years in her face. Madness and crime had set their mark on it, and the joyous bright expression of youth had fled for ever. Again passing her hand hurriedly across her forehead, and drawing a long, shuddering breath, she crossed the apartment with swift and noiseless steps, and opening the door, paused on the landing, and stood opposite the clock, on which she unconsciously fixed her eyes. Another quarter struck, and she proceeded to descend the stairs. With surprising

method and coolness, she entered the drawing

room, and took from one of the tables a curiously wrought dagger which usually lay there as a valuable antique; slowly she drew the weapon from its sheath, and examined the point, then sheathing it again, she passed from the room and ascended the staircase, without once pausing, till she reached the door of her husband's room. Stealthily and noiselessly she turned the handle and entered the room, then depositing her lamp at the foot of the bed, she stole round to the side of it.

Bently was in a profound sleep, and the light falling full on his features, revealed their calm and peaceful expression.

He lay on his back, with his face upturned, and for many seconds the unhappy maniac stood contemplating her intended victim, the husband who had loved and trusted her, and selected her, a portionless orphan, from the rest of the world, to be his solace and blessing.

A table stood by the bedside, and on it lay the open Bible, which Bently was in the habit of reading every night on retiring to rest.

Jessy's eye rested for a moment on the pages of the Holy Book, and these words were before her:-"I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep, for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety."

This sentence made her blood creep and her teeth chatter; she turned hurriedly away from it, and looked again on the calm sleeper, who slumbered under Divine protection.

As her eyes wandered wildly over his countenance, they gradually reassumed the frightful glare of insanity. A slight movement of the sleeper caused her to retreat behind the curtain for a few moments, but again all was still, and she stole from her hiding place, and returned to her former position, and bending down over his face, her frame shook as with an inward convulsion, and a hissing sound came from between her clenched teeth.

She then arose from her recumbent posture, and with trembling hands unsheathed the weapon, and prepared to strike with it; but her arm felt powerless, and a complete paralysis appeared

creeping over her faculties. She repeated to herself the name of Sedley, and her energies returned.

With terrible accuracy she placed the dagger's point on Bently's heart; for an instant she paused, and glanced around, and shuddered ; then drawing in her breath heavily, she flung her whole weight on its hilt, and forced it through the body of her unhappy husband.

Not a groan, not a sigh escaped the murdered man; in one instant his soul took flight from its earthly tenement, and was doubtless received by that Divine Protector to whom he had committed it so lately, and who never fails those who seek him.

Slowly Jessy rose from her position, and contemplated her sure work with a fiendish triumph, the effect of insanity, depicted in her expression.

But soon her countenance changed, and unmingled horror took possession of it, as she gazed on the dreadful evidence of her crime. She looked wildly at her hands; she felt her

features as though to ascertain her identity, but still her eyes returned to the corpse. Vainly did she essay to turn from it; a mighty fascination kept them fixed on the awful spectacle, and her feet refused to bear her from the spot. Vainly she essayed to scream or move; a power, not to be resisted, chained all her faculties, and her heart felt like ice in her bosom.

At length, by a desperate effort, she shook off this lethargy, and, with trembling hands, plucked the dagger from Bently's side; and averting her eyes from the crimson stream which followed this action, she arranged the bed-clothes as before, and taking her lamp from the chair on which it had stood, she passed from the room and closed the door.

Again she descended the stairs, and approached the hall-door. It was fastened, and she proceeded, with wonderful precision, to undo the bolts and open it.

She then went out into the grounds, having partially closed the door, and walked rapidly