LLOYD JONES.—A SEQUEL
[To THE EDITOR OF THE " SPECTATOR."]
Sus,—There is a sad and touching epilogue to be added to the story hastily and imperfectly told in my letter in your issue of May 29th, and which I find has interested many of your readers. Nine days after her husband, two days after his funeral, Mrs. Lloyd Jones died suddenly. I had been struck by her self- possession up to the last time of my seeing her, a few hours before his death. " I must keep up," she had said to me on a former occasion, and the tone of her voice, no less than the look of her eyes, full as it were of suppressed tears, told how hard it was for her not to break down. And now that he is at rest, she has hasted once more to rejoin him.
I may, perhaps, now that she is gone, add one detail to the story. When the early Socialists set up what I believe were the first evening adult classes in Manchester, at which Lloyd Jones was one of the teachers, there came to his class a pretty young factory-girl, anxious to improve herself. The pupil after- wards became his wife, and so grew up in spirit under his influence, that none who were not acquainted with the story would have suspected that the gracious matronly woman, capable of appreciating, and more or less of entering into, all her husband's pursuits and tastes, had been taught by him to read at an evening-school.—I am, Sir, Ac , J. M. L.
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