(Father's name.)

On Monday afternoon I was once more with Miss Blank, now sufficiently
calmed to relate this:

"L---- was taken with a spell of despondency Saturday. [I was there
Friday afternoon.] It wasn't like her, for she usually was the life of
the house. She didn't get up all day Sunday. I went up after dinner to
try to jolly her up, and soon left her, as I thought, more cheerful.
Presently we all were startled by the firing of a pistol, followed by
some one screaming: 'Oh! my God, my God! what have I done? Help me,
please, for God's sake help me!' But she was soon past all earthly aid.
All of us were paralyzed with fear, as you may readily understand."
Then she wept, as few weep, whilst I also in tears sought to comfort
her and to point her to the merciful Savior, but she would have none of
him. All I could do was to wait patiently and pray.

I went to the undertaker's to view the remains. He and his wife
remarked that they had handled many a corpse, but none so beautiful as
this one. But I was grieving for the lost soul. Where, oh! where was it
now? Where, where were the others going?

The steamer arrived, and on it not alone the father but also the mother
of beautiful L----. No one had expected the mother. To me was assigned
the painful task of breaking the news to her. I believe I was the most
burdened woman on earth at that hour and time. Rev. S---- introduced me
to the stricken father in the hotel office, who presently took us up to
their room. To my dying day I shall see that scene. After the
introduction to the mother, the father and Brother S---- retired to