It was the moment when Abel Newt was stealing through his rooms, fastening doors and windows.

Hope Wayne was pale and cold like a statue as she listened to the voice of Mrs.Simcoe, which had a wailing tone pitiful to hear.
After a long silence she began again: "What ought I to have done?
Should I have gone away?
That was the easiest course.

But, Hope, the way of duty is not often the easiest way.

I wrote a long letter to the good old Bishop Asbury, who seemed to me like a father, and after a while his answer came.

He told me that I should seek the Lord's leading, and if that bade me stay--if that told me that it would be for my soul's blessing that my heart should break daily--then I had better remain, seeing that the end is not here--that here we have no continuing city, and that our proud hearts must be bruised by grief, even as our Saviour's lowly forehead was pierced with thorns.
"So I staid.