The baronet's widow, losing all command of herself, caught up the nearest missile--a little ivory-framed hand-mirror and hurled it at her antagonist, who was struck full on the forehead and staggered.
"You shall pay for this, you old hag," shrieked the injured woman.
"I'll pull you up before the Hollingford magistrates, and I'll tell them where you got your manners.

I know now that it's true, what Mrs.
Robb told my sister, that you began life as a"-- Saxon monosyllable--"on London streets!" Some minutes later, a servant sent to Lady Ogram's room by the retreating combatant found her mistress lying unconscious.

For a day or two the lady of Rivenoak was thought to be near her end; but the struggle prolonged itself, hope was seen, and in three months' time the patient went about her garden and park in a bath chair.

Doctors opined that she would never walk again; yet, before six months were out, Lady Ogram was down in Cornwall, taking the air very much as of old.

But her aspect had greatly changed; her body had shrunk, her face had become that of an old, old woman.