“My mother has told me that on the day of her sister’s death, she left her father alone for some hours. He then sent for her, and she found him with the Bible in his hands. He who has been so often and so harshly accused of unbelief, he, in his hour of intense affliction, sought and found consolation in the sacred volume. The Comforter was there for his true heart and devout spirit, even though his faith might not be what the world called orthodox. “There was something very touching in the sight of this once beautiful and still lovely young woman, fading away just as the spring was coming on with its buds and blossoms—nature reviving as she was sinking and closing her eyes on all that she loved best in life. She perished not in autumn with the flowers, but as they were opening to the sun and air in all the freshness of spring. I think the weather was fine, for over my own recollection of these times there is a soft, dreamy sort of haze, such as wraps the earth in warm, dewy, spring-time. “You know enough of my aunt’s early history to be aware that she did not accompany her father, as my mother did, when he first went to France. She joined him, I think, only about two years before his return, and was placed in the same convent where my mother received her education. Here she went by the name of Mademoiselle Polie. As a child she was called Polly by her friends. It was on her way to Paris that she stayed a while in London with Mrs. Adams, and there is a pleasing mention of her in that lady’s published letters. “I think the visit (not a very long one) made by my mother and aunt to their father in Washington, must have been in the winter of 1802–3. My aunt, I believe, was never there again; but after her death, about the winter of 1805–6, my mother, with all her children, passed some time at the President’s House. I remember that both my father and uncle Eppes were then in Congress, but cannot say whether this was the case in 1802–3.”