Letter from Mrs. Wilson, to Donald McLean, no date. My dear Son, I have been thinking a great deal about that unfortunate man, James Ritchie. What can be done to save him from total ruin? He must leave this place, if only for a short time,- to give himself, and all of us, time to recover the awful shock he has caused us. I wish, very much, to talk to you upon this subject, and ask your advice as to what can be done. We have done all in our power; and all our work has come to nothing. We can only pray that the erring man may find pardon and grace from Him who alone can grant it. Still I feel that for his poor Mother's sake it is my duty to catch at the smallest straw, if I see the least chance for him. Do, like a dear soul, think over this for me, and give me your advice. Come out some evening as soon as you can, to talk over it with me. As to Mr. Wilson, he has quite given it up as a lost affair. I cannot, while there is a shadow of hope. Come soon, and ever believe in the sincere affection of your old Mother, (Signed) H.A. Wilson, Tuesday morning. P.S. You are sure of a bed at Mr. Flight's.