“Her nights are very restless, and she is much exhausted from constant spitting of blood; the last week of pleasant weather has been of service to her, and the prospect of seeing you all at home gives her the most unfeigned pleasure.

“I have even more painful intelligence to give you.  Our young neighbor, Mrs. Kent, has done with all her trials, and I trust they sanctified her, in preparation for the early and unexpected death which has been her lot.  You are not yet aware of the extent of her trials.  A fortnight ago her little boy was attacked with scarlet fever, in its most violent form.  From the first moment of his illness his case was hopeless, and he only suffered twenty-four hours.  I went over as soon as I heard of his death; the poor mother’s condition was really pitiable.  She was helpless in her sorrow, which was so unexpected as to deprive her at first of the power of reason.  The Good Shepherd though, had not forgotten her—­he told her that he had taken her little lamb, and had gently folded it in his bosom, and that he would wander with it in the lovely pastures of Paradise.  She was soon perfectly reconciled to the sad dispensation; sad indeed, for the child was her only earthly solace.  Victim of an unhappy marriage, the dear engaging little boy was a great consolation to her, and his amusement and instruction occupied her mind, and passed away happily many a weary hour.

    “She insisted upon attending the funeral, and I accompanied her. 
    Mr. Kent was with her, too, much distressed, for this hard man
    loved his child, and keenly felt his loss.

“She got out of the carriage to hear the funeral service read, and was calm until they took up the coffin to lower it into the grave.  Then it was impossible to control her.  Placing her arms upon it, she looked around appealingly to the men; and so affected were they, that they turned from her to wipe away their own tears.  Her strength gave way under the excitement, and she was carried, insensible, to the carriage, and taken home.

“I found her very feverish, and did not like to leave her, thinking it probable that she might also have the disease which had carried off her child.  Before night she became really ill, and Dr. Lawton pronounced her complaint scarlet fever.  The disease was fearfully rapid, and soon ended her life.  She was, I think, well prepared to go.  Her solemn and affectionate farewell to her husband cannot fail to make an impression upon him.

“I shall have a great deal to tell you of her when you return.  The past winter has been a sad one; a constant coolness existing between her and her husband.  A short time ago he was brutally striking that faithful old man of her father’s, Robert, and Mrs. Kent interfered, insisting upon Robert’s returning to his cabin, and in his presence forbidding Mr.