Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. People spoke of him everywhere as a young man of great promise, a politician by instinct, a keen and careful judge of character. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck.
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