But in whatsoever form the gifted writer composed her novels the result was the same, and she will be widely mourned by the many, who in hours of sickness, of carking care or sorrow, owed a temporary respite from heavy thought, or the laugh that banishes ennui, to her ready pen—grave and gay by turns, but in every mood bewitching. During her long illness, with its constant relapses, its alternations of now hope, now despair, her patience and unselfishness were exhibited to a remarkable degree. Ever fearful to give trouble, hopeful and wishing to encourage the loved ones around her, she maintained a gentle cheerfulness and resignation, and finally passed away so peacefully that her sorrowing husband and children scarcely realised the moment when her spirit winged its flight to the better land, whence she, being dead, 'yet speaketh', for 'to live in hearts we leave behind is not to die'."