"Miss Moore was out at nine o'clock in the woodshed; all was safe then. Mrs. Wade locked the doors at ten with stable lantern in the wood-shed (the boys' summer dining-room), and then all was safe; the fire in the kitchen stove was out. She came shivering in to-prayers a little after ten. The parlour fire was nearly out, and Miss Baylis and I were quite cold. The fire upstairs was not lit, nor had any ashes been taken up on Sunday morning. If any had been removed on Saturday, they were placed in iron vessels in the first kitchen. The fire broke out in the further corner of the wood-shed. The cause is so far quite unknown, and will, I suppose, ever remain so. "I send you the account of the inquest, and other papers, as I know well it is better to see and know all particulars. I cannot, however, tell of all the kindness and sympathy we have met with--a telegram from Mr. Claxton, offering money, &c., Hon. George Alien wishing to take the children; Mr. Eason: 'I am praying for you, can I help by coming?' numbers of friends coming with clothes of every kind; subscriptions got up to start a new Home immediately; sewing societies at work and ladies canvassing the town in every direction for help to furnish another Home at once. I could not even begin to particularise our friends. Mr. Flint came up at eight, begging me to come to his house. "This afternoon we have buried little Robin. The service was held in Mr. Elliott's church. "How often we have thought of home friends during the last few days, and longed that you might not hear the news in any way till this reaches you, which will be nearly three weeks! and now you must fancy us happy at our work again, and as much under the loving care and protection of our God as ever, trusting only to Him for everything, that whether absent from the body, or still in the flesh, we may be more and more filled with faith and love for the Lord's work. "Wednesday. We seem each day to realise only more fully our marvellous escape. The firemen say they never remember such a night, nor saw a house burn so rapidly. Now every one is so kind; things keep pouring in for the new Home;--it is to be Canadian this time, not English. Mr. Flint says he has written to you, telling you all, but he could not tell you one quarter of the kindness we have met with on every hand. "Oh, that verse in Isa. lxiv. II, is so expressive: "'Our beautiful house where we praised Thee is burnt up with fire, and all our pleasant things are laid waste.' What a ruin Marchmont is now! the blackened ashes all around--nothing but the walls standing. I feel such mingled feelings as I look at it--all the happy days we have spent there--the holy associations never to return again.