I thought she was ill and had been taking physic, and looked at the bottle.

It was marked in large letters, "Laudanum--Poison." My heart gave a jump as if it was going to fly out of me.

I laid hold of her with both hands, and shook her with all my might.

She was sleeping heavily, and woke slowly, as it seemed to me--but still she did wake.
I tried to pull her out of bed, having heard that people ought to be always walked up and down when they have taken laudanum but she resisted, and pushed me away violently.
"Anne!" says she, in a fright.

"For gracious sake, what's come to you! Are you out of your senses ?" "Oh, Mary! Mary!" says I, holding up the bottle before her, "if I hadn't come in when I did--" And I laid hold of her to shake her again.
She looked puzzled at me for a moment--then smiled (the first time I had seen her do so for many a long day)--then put her arms round my neck.
"Don't be frightened about me, Anne," she says; "I am not worth it, and there is no need." "No need!" says I, out of breath--"no need, when the bottle has got Poison marked on it!" "Poison, dear, if you take it all," says Mary, looking at me very tenderly, "and a night's rest if you only take a little." I watched her for a moment, doubtful whether I ought to believe what she said or to alarm the house.