"How do you know, Winnie?"
"There is the Scripture, mother. There is the parable of the lost sheep, and then there is another word; 'All we, like sheep, have gone astray; we have turned everyone to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all.'"
After a moment the weak voice spoke again:
"Winnie, you know Him; will you pray? Tell Him—I've taken—my own way,—a 'witless, worthless lamb!'"
Winifred slipped to her knees beside the bed and prayed; prayed with the greatest thankfulness she had ever known because she knew God, and prayed for the dearest object for which she had made request. She reminded God with great simplicity that He had laid the iniquity of us all who have wandered on His Anointed One, and begged Him to make good the virtue of that act to her poor mother. And the dying lady listened, and believed.
"Dear mother," said Winifred fondly, "do you not see that He will gather you?"
Mrs. Gray's head had sunk back contentedly in the pillows. She smiled faintly.
"Yes, I see it now," she said. "It is very true."
In a few moments she was asleep, and the nurse resumed her watch. But later in the night a quiet alarm summoned the little household to her chamber, and they watched for the moment of parting between the spirit and its fair tenement. Before it came she opened her eyes, and looked at them placidly. Her lips moved, and Winifred bent forward eagerly to catch their words.
"I—am—not—afraid'" they pronounced, and then closed their witness for this world forever.