She invited me to visit them on their estate, and so did the old man, when he came to get her. She asked about everybody, and said, 'If you ever meet Niel Herbert, give him my love, and tell him I often think of him.' She said again, 'Tell him things have turned out well for me. Mr. Collins is the kindest of husbands.' I called at your office in New York on my way back from South America, but you were somewhere in Europe. It was remarkable, how she'd come up again. She seemed pretty well gone to pieces before she left Sweet Water." "Do you suppose," said Niel, "that she could be living still? I'd almost make the trip to see her." "No, she died about three years ago. I know that for certain. After she left Sweet Water, wherever she was, she always sent a cheque to the Grand Army Post every year to have flowers put on Captain Forrester's grave for Decoration Day. Three years ago the Post got a letter from the old Englishman, with a draft for the future care of Captain Forrester's grave, '_in memory of my late wife, Marian Forrester Collins._'" "So we may feel sure that she was well cared for, to the very end," said Niel. "Thank God for that!" "I knew you'd feel that way," said Ed Elliot, as a warm wave of feeling passed over his face. "I did!"