The stroke which had prostrated the body, which reduced the vigorous, active frame to an awful statue--like stillness--a quietude as of death of itself--had not overclouded the intellect.

Lady Maulevrier lay on her bed in her luxurious room, with wide Tudor windows commanding half the circle of the hills, and was still the ruling spirit of the house, albeit powerless to move that slender hand, the lightest wave of which had been as potent to command in her little world as royal sign-manual or sceptre in the great world outside.
Now there remained only one thing unimpaired by that awful shock which had laid the stately frame low, and that was the will and sovereign force of the woman's nature.

Voice was altered, speech was confused and difficult; but the strength of will, the supreme power of mind, seemed undiminished.
When Lady Maulevrier was asked if Lesbia should be telegraphed for, she replied no, not unless she was in danger of sudden death.
'I should like to see her before I go,' she said, labouring to pronounce the words.
'Dear grandmother,' said Mary, tenderly, 'Mr.Horton says there is no danger.' 'Then do not send for her; do not even tell her what has happened; not yet.' 'But she will miss your letters.' 'True.

You must write twice a week at my dictation.

You must tell her that I have hurt my hand, that I am well but cannot use a pen.