"Miss Blank, she's gone, never to return. We want to pray for your precious soul," pleaded Brother S----. "No, no, oh! no," wept Miss Blank, and nothing we could say or do would induce her to kneel with us. She only clung the closer to me, and wept and mourned piteously. It was early morning before we left. * * * * * All that was mortal of beautiful unfortunate L---- had been removed to the morgue, and, the name and address of her parents having been discovered, the following telegram had been sent: "Daughter L---- died suddenly. What disposition of remains?" As quickly as possible came this reply: "Embalm. Leave for Eureka immediately." (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 another room. I was standing there alone with the mother, who leaned against the dressing-case, her hands behind her back, gripping the woodwork. She was a magnificent, majestic-looking lady; the father also was a tall fine-looking man. It was easy to discover whence the daughter had inherited her beauty. "Who are you?" she gasped. I explained. "Tell me, did you know my darling girl?" she inquired. "No, dear lady, not in life, although I had seen her," I replied. "Where? where had you seen her?" she next interrogated. "In the house where she boarded," I answered. "Was her husband with her?" she inquired. "No, not that I heard of," was my reply