gham Lyons and her son James, from whose untimely end she never recovered; of our sweet friend, Mrs. Lucy Green.
Then there is the handsome monument of Mrs. Abraham Warwick and the grave of her son, dear Clarence, who died so nobly at Gaines's Mill in 1862.
His grave seems to be always covered with fresh flowers, a beautiful offering to one whose young life was so freely given to his country.
Again I stood beside the tombs of two friends, whom I dearly loved, Mrs. Virginia Heth and Mrs. Mary Ann Barney, the lovely daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Gwathney, whose graves are also there.
Then the tomb of our old friend, Mr. James Rawlings, and those of Mr. and Mrs. Herbert A. Claiborne and their daughter, Mary Burnet.
Just by them is the newly-made grave of our sweet niece, Mary Anna, the wife of Mr. H. Augustine Claiborne, freshly turfed and decked with the flowers she loved so dearly.
A little farther on lies my young cousin, Virginia, wife of Major J. H. Claiborne, and her two li