When the physician was first called in to attend Jane, he strictly forbad any person sleeping with her: Elizabeth, therefore, removed to a small camp bed, which was placed by her sister.

A few mornings after Mrs. Adair’s visit to Mrs. Vincent, Jane suddenly awoke; and in an earnest, quick tone of voice, begged that her sister would come to her. “But first draw aside the window curtain,” said she, “That is right. Now come into my bed—only this morning—never—never again.”Surprised at a request so unusual, Elizabeth instantly obeyed. “Do not sit up, sister, nor creep from me; lay your head upon my pillow.”

Jane now folded her arms round her sister’s neck, and kissed her tenderly.—“This is my first and last proof of affection! O, sister! where—and when shall we meet again?”

The sun had risen, and gilded every part of the room. Jane raised herself, as if by magic. “Let me behold every thing—for I shall never behold any objects upon earth again! This day my soul will be required by my Heavenly Father! Ah, my soul! it is an awful thing to die; even with hope and trust in thy Almighty Power! But Thou art mighty to strike,—merciful and gracious in raising thy servants unto glory.”

Jane now paused; other thoughts seemed to arise. Her glazed eyes wandered from object to object. “Ah! there is my writing-desk; give that to my mother! There is my Bible; that is for my dear little favourite! Here is my watch; but I cannot see the minute finger move. It is of no consequence: time will soon be over! Keep it, my dear Elizabeth, and when you look upon it, remember we are to meet again!—Ah! thou bright luminary!” she exclaimed, with fervency, “I hail thee, this, my last morning upon earth, as the evidence of that Being, who will lead me through the valley of the shadow of death, to never-ending glory! What is this life, my dearest Elizabeth, when we come to die? But where is my mother? I am weak—very weak, and faint.”

“Let me support you, dear Jane,” said Elizabeth, trembling with emotion.

“Well, sister,” said Jane, faintly, “you shall support me. I will die in your arms!”

Jane dropped in a state of insensibility upon her pillow. Elizabeth rang the bell; and the next minute Mrs. Adair was in the room. She stepped to the side of the bed where her youngest daughter lay; and, stooping, listened to hear her breathe. “My affectionate, my dutiful child!” Here she ceased, for tears checked her utterance. Jane sighed deeply; her eyes gradually opened, and, at length, rested upon her mother: by slow degrees recollection returned.

“Where could my thoughts be!” she exclaimed in hurried accents. “Is my mother here? Ah, yes! I behold her! I did not know you, indeed I did not! But bless me; bless your daughter.”

Mrs. Adair tenderly embraced Jane; and in faltering accents blessed her.

“My dearest, kindest mother, be comforted! We are parting—but to meet again! The trial will soon be over! My hope is fixed upon the promises of a merciful Redeemer! I am only going a little—a very little while before you! How joyful is the thought, that we are not separating for ever!—this is my joy,” and her eyes brightened as she spoke, “that I have reverenced my God, and loved my mother. But this pain;—O, it is violent!—Mother—”...Here the voice ceased; not a sigh, not a whisper was heard.

Mrs. Adair, who had been supporting her daughter, now gently placed her head upon the pillow, and silently led Elizabeth out of the room.

At the door of her own apartment she saw Mrs. Lloyd; and desiring her to take the charge of Elizabeth, who appeared almost convulsed with anguish, instantly returned into the chamber she had so recently quitted. After indulging that grief, which the most unfeeling in some measure experience, when they behold the lifeless remains of a being they had loved, she calmly proceeded to accomplish the desire of the departed, in preparing her for that narrow spot, which confines all that was mighty, rich, noble, excellent—the despised of the world, the neglected of the world; that spot which is the boundary of ambition, and the sure refuge for the distressed.

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