—“The remaining third of my property I wish Justin to devote to the relief of the aged and indigent mothers left destitute by the death of their soldier sons.” The pastor wrote this down and then looked up for further instructions. “That is all,” said Erminie, simply. Dr. Sales would willingly have inquired her reasons for making this bequest to the mothers rather than to the widows and orphans of the war; but he refrained from taxing her strength with an explanation. She, however, saw the question in his face, and freely answered it. “Every one thinks of the widows and orphans of the war. All the concerts and fairs got up for the sufferers by the war are for the widows and orphans. And this is right so far as it goes, for the widows and orphans must be cared for. But no one thinks of the aged and indigent mothers whose sons have fallen in battle. And this is all wrong; for these old mothers are perhaps the greatest sufferers of all. The widow may find another husband, and the orphan another father, but the desolate mother who has lost her son in battle finds never another to fill his place in the ‘aching void’ of her heart. Therefore will I try to relieve the wants, if I cannot comfort the hearts, of the mothers.” These last words were almost inaudible, and before they were well uttered, the fair young saint had fainted quite away. In the utmost distress Dr. Sales rang the bell, which brought Catherine and Elfie to the room. All the three used their best efforts to restore the swooning girl. And after some time these efforts were rewarded with success. The excitement of her interview with Dr. Sales had been far too great for the strength of the sinking girl. She recovered from her swoon of exhaustion, but it was only to pass into a state of nervous restlessness, that speedily progressed into feverish delirium and arose to raging frenzy. Another awful night with the sufferer tried all the endurance of her attendants. It was late in the morning before the raving madness subsided and the patient sank into a fatal coma. The visit of the physician in the forenoon left not a hope in the world for her life. The minister came and prayed by her bedside, but she heard him not. She lay in a stupor that every one felt must end in death. “And her brother has not arrived!” exclaimed Elfie, wringing her hands. “But she has left her last words for him with me,” said Dr. Sales. The physician went away, feeling certain that at his next visit he should see the white crape badge upon the door that should warn him a bright young life had left the earth. The minister remained in the room, watching with Elfie beside the death-bed, and praying God for strength for all to bear the approaching, overwhelming bereavement.