She had sat down and was resting her arm on the window-sill; and Miss Haye's face was in a state of humbled and saddened gravity which no one ever saw it in before these days. As she sat there, Karen's voice reached her from the back of the house somewhere; and it suddenly occurred to Elizabeth that it might be as well for her to acquaint herself somewhat better with one of her few remaining inmates, since their number was to be so lessened. She dried her eyes, and went out with quick step through the kitchen till she neared the door of the little back porch where Karen was at work. There she paused.
The old woman was singing one of her Methodist songs, in a voice that had once very likely been sweet and strong. It was trembling and cracked now. Yet none of the fire and spirit of old was wanting; as was shewn, not indeed by the power of the notes, but by the loving flow or cadence the singer gave them. Elizabeth lingered just within the door to listen. The melody was as wild and sweet as suited the words. The first of the song she had lost; it went on —
"Till Jesus shall come,
"Protect and defend me until I'm called home;
"Though worms my poor body may claim as their prey,
"'Twill outshine, when rising, the sun at noon-day.
"The sun shall be darkened, the moon turned to blood,
"The mountains all melt at the presence of God;
"Red lightnings may flash, and loud thunders may roar,
"All this cannot daunt me on Canaan's blest shore.
"A glimpse of bright glory surprises my soul,
"I sink in sweet visions to view the bright goal;
"My soul, while I'm singing, is leaping to go,
"This moment for heaven I'd leave all below.
"Farewell, my dear brethren — my Lord bids me come;
"Farewell, my dear sisters —I'm now going home;
"Bright angels are whispering so sweet in my ear, —
"Away to my Saviour my spirit they'll bear.
"I am going — I'm going — but what do I see! —"
She was interrupted.
"Do you mean all that, Karen?" said Elizabeth, stepping without the door.
Karen stopped her song and looked round.