I interviewed the old mother of the young man who shot himself out of grief at Evelyn's approaching death, and if any doubt had existed concerning a matter which had driven her son to a violent end, she could not have concealed it from me.

But there seemed to have been none.
Evelyn Cadwalader was always of delicate health, and when a quick consumption carried her off no one marvelled.

Her lover, who adored her, simply could not live without her, so he shot himself.

There was no mystery about the tragic occurrence except that it seemed to sever an old friendship that once was firm as a rock.

I allude to that between the Poindexters and Cadwaladers." "Yet in this tragedy which has just occurred in -- -- Street we see them brought together again.