es, and she foresaw
that sooner or later he would win: that she would be swept into the
flame of his conquest: yet her poor bruised spirit shrank back from
the flame. She craved only to be let alone, she feared all new
experience, she distrusted even the joy of salvation. Life had been
too hard for Hetty.

He followed her up the stairs to his mother's room, and entering
commanded his sisters with a gesture to sing the hymn to an end.
They did so. Mrs. Wesley lay propped on the pillows, her wasted face
turned to the light, a faint smile on her lips. For a little while
after the hymn ended she lay silent with no change on her face.
They doubted if she saw John or, seeing, had recognised him.
But by and by her lips moved and she murmured his name.

"Jacky!"

He stepped to the bedside, and with his hand covered the transparent
hand with its attenuated marriage ring.

"I like them--to sing to me," she whispered. "When--when I am
released--sing--a psalm of praise to God. Promise me."

He pressed her hand for reply, and her eyes closed peacefully. She
seemed to sleep.

It was not until Friday that the end came. Shortly before eleven
that morning she waked suddenly out of slumber with lips muttering
rapidly. They, bending close, caught the words "Saviour--dear
Saviour--help--at the last." By the time they had summoned John,
though the muttering continued, the words were unintelligible: yet
they knew she was praising God.

In a little while the voice ceased and she lay staring calmly
upwards. From three to four o'clock the last cords were loosening.
Suddenly John arose, and lifting his hand in benediction, spoke the
words of the Commendatory Prayer: "O Almighty God, in whom do live
the spirits of just men made perfect, after they are delivered from
their earthly prison; we humbly commend the soul of this Thy servant,
our dear Mother, into Thy hands, as into the hands of a faithful
Creator and most merciful Saviour, most humbly beseeching Thee that
it may be precious in Thy sight. . . ."

It was Hetty who bent low, took the inert hand, and after listening
for a while laid it softly down on the coverlet. All was over: yet
she listened until the voices of the watchers, released by her
signal, rose together--

"Hark! a voice divides the sky--
Happy are the faithful dead
In the Lord who sweetly die--"

She raised her face as if to entreat for yet a moment's respite.
But their faces were r