Mary knew, as well as anyone, that she was very ill.  She talked it over with Robert.  Together they most earnestly prayed that God would spare her life, for Robert’s sake, and especially for little Janet’s sake.  But though her mind remained remarkably clear, her body sank deeper down into the jaws of death.  Mary was led to consecrate all to God; so in a very simple and humble way she resigned her all to Him.

“The will of God be done,” she said, “whether I live or die, wake or sleep, I am the Lord’s, body, soul, mind, will, all.  Have Thine own dear way with me, Lord Jesus, work out Thy will in me.  If I live I shall be always all for Thee, if I die, I am Thine alone.  Take from my heart every selfish desire and reign, dear Jesus, on Thy royal throne there.  Purge me pure, O Christ, so pure that I can come into Thy effulgent presence without one fear, without one sin, but instead with great joy.  I want to be able to greet Thee, blessed Christ, as my dearest, sweetest friend without a doubt as to my entire acceptance with Thee.  Oh, come, Jesus, come in all Thy power to fully save me, just for Thine own dear sake.  Amen, amen.”

Mary closed her eyes.  She lay there, so quiet, as if the angel of death had claimed her for His own.  A sweet smile of satisfaction spread over her face.  It seemed some angel voice had whispered something ineffably sweet to her.  Robert hardly knew what to do or to say.  She lay there so motionless, so still, yet there was such a sweet, holy awe, such a spiritual atmosphere, just as ii the room were full of angels, that it seemed he could not cry.  Kate Newby was greatly affected.  Her mind went back to that night in her home after Robert Davis had made his confession.

Then there came stealing over Mary’s wan face a smile that broke into the sweetest laughter.  “Praise the Lord,” she said.

“Is everything well with you, Mary?” Robert asked.

“All is well,” she said.  “I am ready to go, if the Lord calls for me.”

Mary continued very low for several days.  She hung between life and death and at times it seemed that the thread would snap and her soul would be released.  All hope of recovery had fled.

“Robert, Robert, come here,” she said one day.  “I feel so happy.  I wonder if I am going to die!  Heaven must be a beautiful place, Robert.  I had the most wonderful dream or vision a while ago.  I thought I was in heaven and it was so rich and beautiful.  I saw a little baby there; its wings were tinted in all the colors of the rainbow and its robe seemed to be of the finest, whitest silk.  I just wanted to grasp the dear thing, but it eluded me and flew up into one of the trees of life.

“Robert,” she continued in a low voice, “what will you and Janet do if I die?  Oh, I hate to leave you here alone.  Poor little Janet, she will never have mother’s hand to smooth away the care from her brow or to wipe the tears from her innocent eyes.  I would so like to stay.  Poor little Janet!  Bring her here, papa, and lay her down by my side so I can see her, and I want to lay my hand on her sweet, velvet face.”