At  Buffalo,  in  the  convention  that  followed,  some
who  "saw"  tell  us  they  detected  already  the  look
of  change  upon  her  face,  that  expression  which
separates  mortals  about  to  become  immortal.  Cer-
tainly when  in  an  hour  of  transcendent  renunciation
she  was  ready  to  give  home  and  the  new  year  of  her
life  upon  which  she  had  just  entered  to  the  lifting
of  a  material  burden  far  out-measuring  her  fragile


258  FRANCES  E.  WILLARD

health,  her  friends  felt  something  of  the  limitless
strength  of  her  spirit.  One  picture  of  those  days
will  be  forever  treasured,  when,  behind  the  flower-
laden  desk,  the  president,  still  directing  the  thousand
women  before  her,  bent  to  write  a  message  to  a
college  girl  whose  heart  was  breaking  with  her  first
sorrow,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  the  queenly  homage
of  the  hour  "forgot  herself"  as  ever  in  the  sweet
consideration  of  another  life.  It  was  a  typical
moment  in  the  career  of  the  beautiful  crowned  wom-
anhood whose  boundless  spiritual  affluence  could
plan  for  humanity,  or  touch  with  a  mother's  pity
the  grief  of  the  tenderest  human  thing.
At  the  close  of  the  Buffalo  convention  Miss  Wil-
lard  went  to  Churchville,  New  York,  her  birthplace,
for  a  Sunday  with  beloved  relatives.  The  morning
was  spent  with  the  only  surviving  relative  of  her
mother's  generation,  "Aunt  Sarah,"  and  in  the
afternoon  she  met  the  white-ribboners  in  the  Metho-
dist church.  After  the  service,  two  by  two  they
walked  to  the  house  where  Miss  Willard  was  born.
