"Father, mother, both gone, I hope and trust to heaven. I am alone--yes, yes, all alone now." I would not let him talk any more, and finding out from the attendant what he most relished, I promised to see him the next day. I saw him almost every day for a fortnight. He grew no worse, but very little, if any, better. On one occasion Dr. B. said: "I do not know what to make of Ashton. He ought to improve much faster. My dear madam, set your woman's wits at work; perhaps we may find a cure." "I have been thinking I would try to gain his confidence. I know he has a hidden sorrow. I must, for his sake, probe the wound; but I fancy it is in his heart." During my next visit I said: "I wish you would tell me something of your life; how you came to enter the army; and, indeed, all you will of your Southern home." His face flushed, and he replied: "No, I cannot. Why should you want to know----" Then he stopped, hesitated and said: "I beg your pardon. You have been so kind to me; it is due I should comply; but not now; to-morrow; I must have time to consider and compose my mind. To-morrow, please God, if I am living, I will tell you; and you will see that I have a severer wound than good Dr. B. knows of--one he cannot use his skillful hand upon." "Well, thank you--I would rather wait until to-morrow. I am anxious to get home early this afternoon." On reaching his cot the next day, I saw Ashton was calm, but very pale. I said: "Do not exert yourself this morning. I can wait." "No; sit nearer and I will tell you all." I give it to you, dear reader, as he gave it to me: