So far as I know this is the last letter she ever wrote. On the 11th of May, Mrs. Felts went home and took charge of her work, while she gave her time fully to the care of the sick. Every day and every night she would visit one or the other, often going from one directly to the other, taking but very little rest. One day she remarked to Mrs. Felts: "Alice, this is the only time since your marriage that I have ever wanted you back; when I gave you up, I did so freely and have never regretted it, and this is the first time I have ever really needed you since, and now the Lord has arranged it for you to be here." On the 16th of May, "Aunt Tamson" (Mrs. Tamson Cuff, her oldest sister) passed away from earth. At the time of her death mother was absent; coming to look upon her lifeless form, she talked pleasantly with those around of the reality and glory of heaven, and came home singing: "I know not the hour when my Lord shall come, To take me away to His own dear home, But I know that His presence will lighten my gloom; And that will be glory for me." Taking off her bonnet, she said: "Alice, attend to the work, I must indulge myself a little now"; and lying down on the sofa, she wept freely for some time. She lay there till evening and then rousing herself, passed the evening in conversation with the daughters of the deceased. On the next day, May 17th, she worked very hard intending to spend all the next day with her mother. About 5 o'clock that afternoon word was brought that _her mother was dead_. Throwing up both hands, she uttered a wail of horror, such as none had ever heard from her before, saying quickly: "Oh! My mother gone; and I so selfish as to be about my work and not with her!" We replied: "But mother you were preparing to spend to-morrow with her." She added immediately: "I could have gone to day. It was my selfishness. Mother said she would die on the 18th and I intended to be with her on that day; but I ought not to have left her, I ought not to have left her," she repeated. As quickly as possible she was at her mother's bedside and to her inexpressible joy found her _still alive_. She had sunk so low that life was thought extinct, but the Lord had revived her again and she still lived, and recognized her daughter. She lived through the night and waited until the sun had sent his first beams to bless the earth on the 18th, when her happy spirit fled to its eternal home. She had known it would appear for some days, the day and very hour when she should go away. It was the same day of the month and the same hour at which her husband died. Side by side their ashes sleep in the old family graveyard at Gouldtown, awaiting the clarion call of the resurrection trump.