Like the twilight in the land of her adoption, the twilight of Mary Whately's life was very brief. Her sun went down while it was yet day. Her last years were among her busiest. She would rise very early, often watching from her balcony the dawn break, and then would take a ride in the fresh morning air, or go out into her garden, for, as with her father, gardening was her delight. After a simple breakfast she would be usually found in the dispensary by nine o'clock, reading and talking to the patients. When they had all been cared for, she would teach her Scripture class in the Levantine school, and afterwards visit the other schools, or attend to some of her domestic duties. After a short rest in the heat of the day, the remainder of the afternoon would be occupied with receiving or paying visits, and the short evening before retiring early to rest, when free from various forms of mission work, with painting or reading. When burdened with the difficulties of the work, she would often exclaim, "Why tarry the wheels of His chariot?" and the coming of the Lord was ever the object of her lively anticipation.

In the summer of 1888 she paid her last visit to England, taking also a tour in Switzerland, which she greatly enjoyed. Early in the autumn she returned to Cairo, where she was joined by her elder sister, who frequently spent the winter with her. In February she made preparations for her usual Nile trip. After the boat had been engaged and paid for, she caught a cold, and was urged to defer the journey; but as this would have caused extra expense, she declined. The excitement of the work, which, on account of the doctor being unable through ill health to accompany her, was unusually heavy, kept her up for the time, but on her return to Cairo she had to retire to bed. Bronchitis set in, and in a few days the gravest was feared. A relapse discovered weakness of the heart, and on the morning of Saturday, March 9, 1889, her spirit fled. Then was there, as of old, "a grievous mourning" among "the Egyptians." No need was there to employ professional mourners to make a wailing; the teachers and scholars, and the hundreds of poor men and women who had learned to love her, wept aloud for her. Her body was laid to rest in the English cemetery in Cairo, but she herself rested from her labours among those of whom she wrote:—

"Oh! they've reached the sunny shore
Over there;
They will never hunger more;
All their pain and grief is o'er;
Over there.

Oh! they've done the weary fight
Over there;
Jesus saved them by His might;
And they walk with Him in white;
Over there."

W.R. Bowman