There was no one but myself to attend to William’s funeral. Nothing positive was ever known as to the cause of his death. The money that he was to have brought from the town was not found upon him; perhaps he had been robbed and assassinated; perhaps this money, given in notes, had fallen from his pocket at the time when his horse might have stumbled, and as they never thought of looking for it till some time afterward, it was not impossible that the rain had buried it in the muddy ground and wet grass. Some inquiries were instituted, but without result, and all search was soon given over. I endeavored to learn from Eva Meredith if it was not necessary to write some letters to inform her family, or her husband’s, of what had taken place. It was difficult to obtain an answer from her; but I succeeded at last in finding out that I had only need to acquaint their agent with it, and he would do all that was requisite. I hoped, then, that from England at least some news would come to decide the future of this unfortunate young woman. But days passed on and no one on earth appeared to know that the widow of William Meredith was living in utter solitude in a poor country village. Soon after this, in order to recall Eva to the feeling of existence, I expressed a desire that she would rise. The next morning I found her risen, and dressed in black; she was but the ghost of the beautiful Eva Meredith. Her hair was parted over her pale forehead; she was seated near a window, and remained motionless as when she had been in bed. And thus I passed long evenings near her. Each day I would accost her with words of condolence; but her only answer was a look of thanks, and then we sat still without speaking. I patiently waited for some opportunity to exchange a few thoughts with her; but my awkwardness and respect for her misfortune either could not find one, or if it occurred, let it pass by. By degrees I became accustomed to this absence of all conversation, to this reserve; and beside, what could I have said? It was of consequence she should feel that she was not absolutely alone in the world; and the support that was left her, humble though it might be, was still a consolation. I only visited her to say by my presence—I am here. It was a strange episode in my life, and had a great influence on the rest of my destiny. Had I not evinced to you so much regret at the thought of the white house being torn down, I would quickly pass to the conclusion of this recital; but you wished to know why this house was to me a consecrated place. It is necessary, then, for me to tell you that which I thought and felt beneath its humble roof. Ladies, you will excuse some serious reflections; it does the young no harm to be made sad at times, for they have plenty of time before them to laugh and forget.