terrible. The leg was in such a state that it seemed enclosed in a black boot, but her patience was such that "she commonly sent her surgeon away in tears." Some relations of the Roberts family came to the assistance of Hannah and Patty, and a record of these weeks was drawn up by one of them. The submission was perfect. Mrs. Sally had from the first guessed and predicted to a servant the course of her illness, adding, that she never let an hour of the day pass without silently sending upon the petition, "In the hour of death, good Lord, deliver us." Yet she was so full of playfulness, that friends who called could not believe what they were told of her condition.
"Poor Sally! you are in dreadful pain," said one of her sisters.
"I am, indeed; but it is all well," she said.
When she left the sitting-room for the last time she cast a look around her full of a meaning no one forgot. Opiates were freely given, and these and the suffering prevented her from attending to reading; but texts were repeated to her as she could bear them. Once, when she seemed almost insensible, she cried: "Can anything be finer than that? It quite makes one's face shine."
One night she complained of too much light. "The smallest light is enough to die by."
Hannah asked if she had comfort in her mind.
"Yes, I have no uncomfort at all."
