little form perched upon the wooden work-bench, and my ears soothed by the
melody of my father's song, for ever as he sat at his daily labor he lent
it the charm of his sweet voice.

Strange to say, there was no one there who knew the "blind girl." All my
mother's friends had vanished, and "they were all gone, the dear familiar
faces." I fondly bade adieu to Jonesville with the consciousness of having
performed a sad duty, and proceeded with my avocation, with my wonted
success, until we reached Toledo, Ohio, where Miss Weaver was attacked
with a serious illness which kept me in constant attendance upon her for
several weeks.

Her physician assuring me that she would be unable to resume her duties
for some time longer, we decided it best for all to send her East.
Procuring her a ticket, and placing her under kind protection, I sent her
to her friends in New York.

I supplied her place with a lady I found in my boarding house, and who I
regret to record was in strange contrast with my former companions. Going
to Pittsburg we stopped at the Merchants' Hotel, near the depot, where,
after a singularly short time, she was visited by a gentleman whom she
represented to be a cousin, and while their whispered conversation in my
room (a place where I deemed it expedient for them to meet) aroused some
suspicion in my mind, I hushed all thought of wrong and hoped for the
best.

She further stated that she had an uncle in Alleghany city, and thither
she went to spend the Sunday, leaving me in the hotel unattended; and from
subsequent revelations I must fain believe the time was devoted to the
so-called cousin.