will repeat daily, almost from morn till night.

It has been said that this poor lady has no friends. Friends who would
be anxious for her recovery, who would care to see her even in her
wretched condition, who might try to soothe her harassed heart with
words of love, she has none. Such is her condition now, and her
temperament, that it may be doubted whether any words of love, however
tender, could be efficacious with her. She is always demanding
justification, and as those who are around her never thwart her she has
probably all the solace which kindness could give her.

But, though she has no friends--none who love her,--she has all the
material comfort which friendship or even love could supply. All that
money can do to lessen her misery, is done. The house in which she lives
is surrounded by soft lawns and secluded groves. It has been prepared
altogether for the wealthy, and is furnished with every luxury which
it may be within the power of a maniac to enjoy. This lady has her own
woman to attend her; and the woman, though stout and masterful, is
gentle in language and kind in treatment. "An eye for an eye, ma'am. Oh,
certainly. That is the law. An eye for an eye, no doubt." This formula
she will repeat a dozen times a day--ay, a dozen dozen times, till the
wonder is that she also should not be mad.

The reader need not fear that he is to be asked to loiter within the
precincts of an asylum for the insane. Of this abode of wretchedness no
word more shall be said; but the story shall be told of the lady who
dwelt there,--the story of her life till madness placed her within those
walls. That story was known to none at the establishment but to him who
was its head. Others there, who were cognisant of the condition of the
various patients, only knew that from quarter to quarter the charges for