Her eyes were open, and she moaned every now and then as if in bodily or mental pain.
Once she tried to speak, but had no power to shape a syllable aright, and ended with a shuddering sigh.

Once she lifted her left arm and waved it in the air, as if waving some one off in fear or anger.

The right arm, indeed the whole of the right side, was lifeless, motionless as a stone.

It was a piteous sight to see the beautiful features drawn and distorted, the lips so accustomed to command mouthing the broken syllables of an unknown tongue.

Lady Mary sat beside the bed with clasped hands, praying dumbly, with her eyes fixed on her grandmother's altered face.
Mr.Horton came, as soon as his stout mountain pony could bring him.