"No tongue can describe the agony that we both endured; yet principle must be obeyed. We parted. They were married. Twice afterwards I saw him. He was actively engaged in his profession; but the pale cheek and earnest look told me that he still thought lovingly of me! My sister married William Worth, and resided in Boston; but her husband died early in life, leaving his only child Robert to the care of Mr. Trueman. After my mother's death, possessing myself of my patrimony, I removed west, to this city, where my brother lived. I had been separated from him for a number of years, and was surprised to find how entirely a Southern residence had changed him. Owing to some little domestic difficulties, I declined remaining in his family. "Last winter, when Justinian Trueman was here, I was out of the city; and it was well that I was, for I could not have met him again. Old feelings, that should be cradled to rest, would have been aroused! My brother saw him, and told me that he looked well. "Now, is it not strange that you should have been an object of such especial interest to both of us? It seems as though you were a centre around which we were once more re-united. I have written him a long letter, which I wish you to deliver upon your arrival in Boston." Here she drew from the portfolio that was lying on the bed beside her, a sealed letter, directed to Justinian Trueman, Boston, Mass. I was weeping violently when I took it from her. She lingered thus for several weeks, and on a calm Sabbath morning, as I was reading to her from the Bible, she said to me-- "Ann, I am sleepy; my eyelids are closing; turn me over." As I attempted to do it she pressed my hand tightly, straightened her body out, and the last struggle was over! I was alone with her. Laying her gently upon the pillow, I for the first time in my life pressed my lips to that cold, marble brow. I felt that she, holy saint, would not object to it, were she able to speak. I then called Biddy in to assist me. She was loud in her lamentation. "She bade us not weep for her, Biddy. She is happier now;" but, though I spoke this in a composed tone, my heart was all astir with emotion. Soon her brother came in, bringing with him a minister. He received the mournful intelligence with subdued grief. We robed her for Death's bridal, e'en as she had requested, in white silk, flannel, and white gloves. Her coffin was plain mahogony, with a plate upon the top, upon which were engraved her name, age, and birth-place. A funeral sermon was preached, by a minister who had been a strong personal friend. In a retired portion of the public burial-ground we made her last bed. A simple tombstone, as she directed, was placed over the grave, her name, age, &c., inscribed thereon.