hold, the officers of The Mother Church, who waited upon her for that contact of mind which should hold their course true in the voyage of experience which devolved upon each.
It was in the days toward the end of her earthly pilgrimage that Mrs. Eddy grew accustomed to sit after her evening meal with chair turned toward the vista before her home. She looked long at the drive, watching for the light to come in the electric globes on either side of the iron gates. She would sit here far into the twilight and evening until the stars twinkled in the night sky above the lights at the gate. So she would often in silence commune with the thoughts which filled her consciousness, sometimes reaching out her hand to the tiny electric light which rested on her desk and pressing its button illuminate a page of her Bible or “Science and Health.”
On the first day of December, she declared her wish to take her usual drive, and this proved to be her last drive. This was Thursday, a pleasant day, and all the bright, frosty beauty of early winter lay over the wooded country, the balsam of the evergreens faintly perfuming the air. Mr. Frye and Mrs. Sargent accompanied Mrs. Eddy on the drive, and were observant of the heavenly smile with which she surveyed the distant hills before stepping into the carriage. On the drive she passed her little neighbors as usual, lifting her hand slightly to them as she passed each merry group, the smile deepening in her eyes and settling faintly about her lips. When she had reached
