But Mrs. Fry was to pass through still deeper waters of affliction and trial while in her suffering state. A visitation of scarlet fever attacked the family of her son William, and, in spite of all medical attentions, he and two of his daughters fell beneath the destroyer's hand. A scene of desolation ensued; the servants, as they sickened, were taken to Guy's Hospital, and the Manor House was deserted, for those members of the household who had escaped the infection had to flee for their lives. For a time, the dear ones who ministered to Mrs. Fry were too terror-stricken and crushed by the trial to venture on telling their mother all; more than that, they feared for her life also. But the "Christian's faith proved stronger than the mother's anguish. She wept abundantly, almost unceasingly; but she dwelt constantly on the unseen world, seeking for passages in the Bible which speak of the happy state of the righteous. She was enabled to rejoice in the rest upon which her beloved ones had entered, and in a wonderful manner to realize the blessedness of their lot." Her other children gathered around her at Walmer, anxious to comfort her, and be themselves comforted by her in this succession of bereavements. She had been such a tower of strength to all her family, in the years which had gone, that they almost instinctively clustered around her now with the old trustful, yearning devotion; but she was, although firm in spirit, so frail in body as to be like the trembling ivy requiring the most constant and tender support. Writing in her journal about this time, Mrs. Fry thus expressed her feelings: "Sorrow upon sorrow! The trial is almost inexpressible. Oh! dear Lord, keep thy unworthy servant in this time of severe trial; keep me sound in faith and clear in mind, and be very near to us all." Shortly after this entry a beloved niece died; and, as if the hungry maw of Death were not yet satisfied, Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, her brother-in-law, friend and coadjutor in so many benevolent schemes, also became a victim. It is certain that these numerous losses weaned her much from life; it is also certain that her splendid reasoning powers gave way for a time, and the infirmity of premature old age crept over her mind. In this way she was mercifully kept from being utterly crushed. Yet, while her mental strength remained, she thought lovingly of those ladies who had been associated with her in her philanthropic works and penned a few lines of parting counsel to them. The following is the text of the last written communication addressed by her to the Committee of the Ladies' British Society:--