"No, dear lady, not in life, although I had seen her," I replied.
"Where? where had you seen her?" she next interrogated.
"In the house where she boarded," I answered.
"Was her husband with her?" she inquired.
"No, not that I heard of," was my reply
Next came that dreadful, dreadful question. She shrieked it:
"Tell me, madam, was—it—all—right—with—my—baby—girl?"…
My tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. I tried to answer. Not one word could I utter. The mother with the exclamation. "O my God!" went down in a heap on the floor and I with her. For a long time the silence remained unbroken. She was the first to speak:
"It is so kind of you to come; so kind to help me in my terrible trouble. God will reward you. I never can. Now, dear, I must have particulars, if its kills me. To help get them, I must tell you this: My L—— was my youngest, my petted, spoilt, baby girl. Her every wish was gratified from the time she drew her first breath. Nothing was too good for her, and no expense spared. We sent her to Europe to complete her education. Did you ever hear her sing?"…
Erelong this soul-stricken mother lay in her bed sleeping as only the grief-exhausted can sleep; then I left for a much-needed rest. After a few hours I returned. When I left her late that night, she had sent for poor terrified Miss Blank.