The white figure still stands immovably in its place.
With signs of distress in her face, but with no appearance of alarm, Mrs.Crayford returns to the room.

Her own sad experience tells her what has happened.

She summons the servants and directs them to wait in the drawing-room until she calls to them.

This done, she returns to the garden, and approaches the mysterious figure on the lawn.
Dead to the outer world, as if she lay already in her grave--insensible to touch, insensible to sound, motionless as stone, cold as stone--Clara stands on the moonlit lawn, facing the seaward view.

Mrs.Crayford waits at her side, patiently watching for the change which she knows is to come.