Then she ran forward to the child, who had swooned.
Poor little unfortunate, she never recovered the shock.

When she came to herself, it was found that her finely strung mind had given way, and she lapsed into a condition of imbecility.

But her imbecility was not always passive.

Occasionally fits of passionate terror would seize upon her.
She would cry out that the fiends were coming to drag her down to torment, and dash herself against the wall, in fear hideous to behold.
Then it was found that there was but one way to calm her: it was to send for Beatrice.

Beatrice would come and take the poor thin hands in hers and gaze with her calm deep eyes upon the wasted horror-stricken face till the child grew quiet again and, shivering, sobbed herself to sleep upon her breast.
And so it was with all the children; her power over them was almost absolute.