t had been brought remained unopened on the
floor. One, Brother opened, hoping to learn something more. It was from
Colonel Steadman to Miriam and me, written a few hours after his death,
and contained the sad story of our dear brother's last hours.

He had been in Colonel Steadman's ward of the hospital for more than a
week, with headache and sore throat, but it was thought nothing; he
seemed to improve, and expected to be discharged in a few days. On the
21st he complained that his throat pained him again. After prescribing
for him, and talking cheerfully with him for some time, Colonel
Steadman left him surrounded by his friends, to attend to his other
patients. He had hardly reached his room when some one ran to him
saying Captain Morgan was dying. He hurried to his bedside, and found
him dead. Captain Steadman, sick in the next bed, and those around him,
said he had been talking pleasantly with them, when he sat up to reach
his cup of water on the table. As soon as he drank it he seemed to
suffocate; and after tossing his arms wildly in the air, and making
several fearful efforts to breathe, he died.

* * * * *

"Hush, mother, hush," I said when I heard her cries. "We have Brother
and George and Jimmy left, and Lydia has lost all!" Heaven pity us!
George had gone before--only He in mercy kept the knowledge of it from
us for a while longer.

On Thursday the 11th, as we sat talking to mother, striving to make her
forget the weary days we had cried through with that fearful sound of
"Dead! Dead!" ringing ever in our ears, some one asked for Miriam. She
went down, and presently I heard her thanking somebody for a letter.
"You could not have brought me anything more acceptable! It is from my
sister, though she can hardly have heard from us yet!" I ran back, and
sitting at mother's feet, told her Miriam was coming with a letter from
Lydia. Mother cried at the mention of her name. O my little sister! You
know how dear you are to us! "Mother! Mother!" a horrible voice cried,
and before I could think who it was, Miriam rushed in, holding an open
letter in her hand, and perfectly wild. "George is dead!" she shrieked,
and fell heavily to the ground.

O my God! I could have prayed Thee to take mother, too, when I looked
at her. I thought--I almost hoped she was dead, and that pang spared!
But I was wild myself. I could have screamed!--laughed! "It is false!
Do you hear me, mother?