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244 that, though; but I do not care to create a nine-day's wonder. I have known for a long time that she was addicted to the use of chloral; and when I went up at her father's agonized cry. I found an empty bottle in her listless hand, hidden by the bed-clothes, for she was found dead in her bed at eleven in the forenoon. I have loved her unselfishly, Winn, all my life, I shall love her till I die. No other woman can ever be to me what she was. My heart will be buried when the earth covers her's. I must now live for the poor father, as I have lived for the daughter."

Being now all prepared, with his help and my valet's, I removed my belongings to Mr. Traver's house, and we proceeded to the chamber of death.

With trembling hands Melville removed the sheet from the face he loved so well, and then went over to the window. I stood spell-bound. Great heaven! I thought, can this be death? Artist though I was, much as I had travelled, many as were the faces and forms I had seen, I had never beheld such a face before. I stood so long that Earl began to get impatient, and put his hand upon me to rouse me from my abstraction. I awoke as if touched by a galvanic battery.

She was dressed as you see her in that picture, Harold. Earl brought in the great crimson chair, and with his help I placed her in that pose. There was no seeming death about her, her limbs being flexible, and limber as in life.

I worked day and night over that picture; sometimes in Earl's company, but most of the time alone; I preferred to be alone. Harold, I went mad over that face! I loved that dead woman with an absorbing love that seemed to set my brain on fire. I do not wonder you look astonished, but the fact remains the same. I was madly in love with a dead woman, and also madly jealous of Earl's love, which he might so plainly show.

When the picture was all but done, I laid it aside for finishing later, and began preparations for taking a mask of the beautiful dead statue, for the living statue I meant to make, for I feared to waste time, or the features might change. I left the room, after placing the lovely form upon her couch, that her maid might arrange her toilet for the cast.

When I returned, the neck and arms were bare, the bust modestly veiled in white, no purer than the flesh it covered. I felt positively wicked as I placed the plaster over that heavenly face. I groaned aloud and wondered if there could be a God, to let such creatures die, when so many lived who had been far better dead.

In spite of my agitation I succeeded in getting a perfect cast of the beautiful face, neck, hands, and arms. Then I must have fainted, for they found me insensible beside the couch where lay my dead love.

I had been under an unwonted excitement ever since I had first seen Elinor Travers, and I had been hard at work for two days and nights, neither eating or sleeping much, though my meals were brought to me, when it was found I would not go to them, and I was urged to rest, time and again, but uselessly so.

When I so far recovered as to realize anything, I found myself in my own home, in the care of my mother. I hastily asked if the young lady was buried yet, and was told the funeral was to take place at two o'clock that afternoon. It was now near eleven. I hastily arose and dressed, in spite of my mother's protestations, and drinking