From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:

This afternoon, Tante Hermine came over to have coffee with Grandmother and once we were alone, I asked her about Uncle Samuel’s lady friend, and explained that someone had spilled ink on her face and I thought it was done on purpose. She said that accidents do happen but that she didn’t know who the lady was. I didn’t believe her so I asked Grandfather. He said that he didn’t really want to talk about it, but that she was a nice friend of Uncle Samuel’s, and that to talk of Uncle Samuel makes both he and Grandmother sad. I only know that this uncle died when he was just twenty-one years old and I don’t know why. I don’t understand why nice people should die when they are young, and I feel sad too, because I know it would have been nice to know my mother, and Uncle Samuel too.