While James Dunlap had never held any civic or political position, his broad charity, unostentatious generosity, kindliness of spirit, constant thoughtfulness of his fellow men, and the unassuming gentleness of his lovable disposition and character, gave him an undisputed high place in the hearts of his fellow citizens of both lofty and lowly condition. The chief executive of his native state, jurists, scholars, and capitalists gathered with rough, weather beaten seafaring men, clerks and laborers to listen to the final prayer offered up, to Him above, at the old family vault of the Dunlaps beneath the sighing willow trees. * * * * * Haggard and worn by the emotions that had wrenched his very soul for the past two or three weeks, David Chapman dragged himself to the tea-table where his sister waited on the evening of the day of the funeral ceremonies. With the fidelity of a faithful, loving dog he had held a position during all of many nights at the feet of him who in life had been his object of paramount devotion; during those days with unswerving faithfulness to the house of “J. Dunlap,” he was found leaden hued and worn, but still attentive, at his desk in the office. The great business must not suffer, thought the man, even if I drop dead from exhaustion. Neither John Dunlap nor Walter Burton was in a condition, nor could they force themselves, to attend to the business of the house no matter how urgent the need might be. When the business of the day ended, Chapman hastened to the Dunlap mansion, and like a ghostly shadow glided to his position at the feet of his old employer, speaking to no one and no one saying him nay—it seemed the sad watcher’s right. As David Chapman dropped into a chair at the tea-table, the anxious and sympathetic sister said, “Brother, you really must take some rest. Indeed you must, David, now that all is over.” “Yes, Arabella, I feel utterly exhausted and shall rest.” The man’s condition was pitiable; his words came from his throat with the dry, rasping sound of a file working on hardest steel. “What a God-send Jack Dunlap is at this time, sister. He has taken charge of everything, and in that steady, confident, masterful way of his has brought order out of the chaos that existed at the mansion. It may be the training and habits acquired at sea, but no matter what it is the transformation in the affairs at the house is wonderful. His decisive manner of directing everything and everybody and the correctness and promptness with which all people and things are disposed of by him is phenomenal. I thank Providence for the relief that Jack’s coming has brought.” The total exhaustion of Chapman’s intense energy was best exhibited in the satisfaction he felt at having some one to assist him even in the affairs of the Dunlaps.