"Let me go with you," she cried. "Let me but go and lie in your closet
that I may be near, if you should call."

Clorinda put her hands upon her shoulders, and stooping, kissed her,
which in all their lives she had done but once or twice.

"God bless thee, poor Anne," she said. "I think thou wouldst lie on my
threshold and watch the whole night through, if I should need it; but I
have given way to womanish vapours too much--I must go and be alone. I
was driven by my thoughts to come and sit and look at thy good face--I
did not mean to wake thee. Go back to bed."

She would be obeyed, and led Anne to her couch herself, making her lie
down, and drawing the coverlet about her; after which she stood upright
with a strange smile, laying her hands lightly about her own white
throat.

"When I was a new-born thing and had a little throat and a weak breath,"
she cried, "'twould have been an easy thing to end me. I have been told
I lay beneath my mother when they found her dead. If, when she felt her
breath leaving her, she had laid her hand upon my mouth and stopped mine,
I should not," with the little laugh again--"I should not lie awake to-
night."

And then she went away.