ng. It ran:

Dear Brother,--I take you at your word, if indeed it covers
permission to preach in your church at Wroote on Sunday morning
next. I design to take for text--and God grant it may be
profitable to you and to others!--"Ask, and it shall be given
you."

CHAPTER II.

From Epworth John Wesley rode on to Sheffield, and then southward
through Coventry, Evesham and Painswick to Bristol, preaching as he
went, sometimes thrice a day: from Bristol to Cardiff and back; and
so, on Sunday evening, July 18th, towards London. On Tuesday morning
he dismounted by the door of the Foundry, having left it just two
months before.

To his surprise it was opened by Hetty: but at once he guessed the
reason.

"Mother?"

"Hist! The end is very near--a few hours perhaps." She kissed him.
"I have been with her these five days, taking turns with the others.
They are all here--Emmy and Sukey and Nancy and Pat. Charles cannot
be fetched in time, I fear."

"He was in North Wales when he last wrote."

"Listen!"--a sound of soft singing came down the stairway.
"They are singing his hymn to her: she begs us constantly to sing to
her."

"Jesu, Lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly
While the nearer waters roll--"

Sang the voices overhead as John followed his sister into the small
sitting-room.

"What do the doctors say?"

"There is nothing to be said. She feels no pain; has no disease.
It is old age, brother, loosening the cords."

"She is happy?"

"Ah, so happy!" Hetty's eyes brimmed with tears and she turned away.

"Sister, that happiness is for you too. Why have you, alone of us,
so far rejected it?"

"No--not now!" she protested. "Speak to me some other time and I
will listen: not now, when my body and heart are aching!"

Her sisters sang:

"Other refuge have I none;
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;
Leave, ah! leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me!
All my trust on Thee is stay'd,
All my help from Thee I bring:
Cover my defenceless head
With the shadow of Thy wing!"

She stepped to the door with a feeble gesture of the hands. She knew
that, worn as he was with his journey, if she gave him the chance he
would grasp it and pause, even while his mother panted her last, to
wrestle for and win a soul--not because she, Hetty, was his sister;
simply because hers was a soul to be saved. Y