Maynard had been walking with her and Oswald round the garden to look at the snowdrops, and she was resting on the sofa after the walk.

Ozzy, roaming about the room in quest of a forbidden pleasure, came to the harpsichord, and struck the handle of his whip on a deep bass note.
The vibration rushed through Caterina like an electric shock: it seemed as if at that instant a new soul were entering into her, and filling her with a deeper, more significant life.

She looked round, rose from the sofa, and walked to the harpsichord.

In a moment her fingers were wandering with their old sweet method among the keys, and her soul was floating in its true familiar element of delicious sound, as the water-plant that lies withered and shrunken on the ground expands into freedom and beauty when once more bathed in its native flood.
Maynard thanked God.

An active power was re-awakened, and must make a new epoch in Caterina's recovery.
Presently there were low liquid notes blending themselves with the harder tones of the instrument, and gradually the pure voice swelled into predominance.