Sometime after her little friend’s death, Spring entered the mission school for girls, the first girls’ school to be opened in that part of China. Year by year as they passed, Spring grew in the love and esteem of her teachers. Her bright, happy ways and true Christian character endeared her to all. But the one Spring loved most of all was the mother of the friend she never forgot. On one occasion when the writer was home on furlough, she received the following letter from Spring: "Dear Teacher Mother, Come back very soon. As one who is hungry longs for food and one who is thirsty for drink, so my heart longs for you!" When fifteen years of age Spring graduated with such distinction that she was sent to the advanced school for girls in Peking. Upon her return she became assistant teacher in the Mission Girls’ School. About this time Mrs. Wang’s health broke down. A little daughter had come whom they named "Brightness." Through all the months of weakness and failing health, the poor suffering woman showed forth a true spirit of patience and resignation. One day an urgent call came for the missionary’s wife to go and see the sick woman. Hastening to the little cottage across the way, she found the court empty so entered the door unannounced, and passing through the outer room she lifted the curtain that served for door into the room where she could see dimly the form of her loved friend lying on the brick bed. There was no mistaking the look which plainly told the last call had come to Mrs. Wang. Overcome with the shock of seeing the end so near, Mrs. —— sank down beside her friend and wept bitterly. Slowly the dying woman raised her hand and stroked the head of the weeping woman, and with difficulty said, "Don’t grieve for me. There is much I want to say, but the time is too short. Listen! My child, my little Slave, does not know about the Saviour. Help Spring to go to her before it is too late." There was a long silence broken only by suppressed weeping from Spring who was standing by. Then Mrs. Wang continued, "And you, my friend; thank you again for bringing this precious Saviour to even me. And you have helped me so much." "No, no," said Mrs. —— unable to keep silence longer. "It is you who have helped me. Your patience under trial has been a constant rebuke to me for my impatience." She could say no more for even while she was speaking the Glory of the unseen world seemed to shine on the dying woman’s face. * * * Some months after her mother’s death the way was opened for Spring to visit her father’s old home. She had many times longed and prayed that she might fulfil her mother’s dying request. With some difficulties Spring found where her sister lived and as she drew near the house her heart rose in earnest prayer for her sister’s conversion.