Next came that dreadful, dreadful question. She shrieked it: "Tell me, madam, was--it--all--right--with--my--baby--girl?"... My tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. I tried to answer. Not one word could I utter. The mother with the exclamation. "O my God!" went down in a heap on the floor and I with her. For a long time the silence remained unbroken. She was the first to speak: "It is so kind of you to come; so kind to help me in my terrible trouble. God will reward you. I never can. Now, dear, I must have particulars, if its kills me. To help get them, I must tell you this: My L---- was my youngest, my petted, spoilt, baby girl. Her every wish was gratified from the time she drew her first breath. Nothing was too good for her, and no expense spared. We sent her to Europe to complete her education. Did you ever hear her sing?"... Erelong this soul-stricken mother lay in her bed sleeping as only the grief-exhausted can sleep; then I left for a much-needed rest. After a few hours I returned. When I left her late that night, she had sent for poor terrified Miss Blank. When I came down-stairs the following morning, Mrs. Baker told me that some one was anxious to talk with me over the telephone--some one who would not give her name, only her number. Going to the telephone, I soon recognized Miss Blank's voice. "Good morning, Mrs. Roberts," she begin. "I've been very anxious to get you, but would not have your rest disturbed, as I was sure you must be worn out. I've been talking to L----'s poor mother all night long, and she has agreed to a funeral service which we can attend. Neither she nor her husband will be present; _only our kind_. We want to know if you will conduct it for us." "Where, Miss Blank?" I inquired. "In the undertaker's chapel tomorrow afternoon at three o'clock. They are going to take her remains back to her old home on Monday's steamer. Do say you will, Mrs. Roberts, _please_." I consented, provided I should be allowed to give a message to the living. She gladly acquiesced.