her and her servants had been arranged on the ground floor,
with easy access to the beautiful garden and grounds. She arrived in
August, and as soon as she had somewhat recovered, she was carried every
day that the weather allowed, to a tent that had been put up in a
pleasant part of the garden. She enjoyed being read aloud to; she had
great delight in her nephews and nieces; but most of all she appreciated
the opportunity of uninterrupted intercourse with her sister. They were
again the "Mary and Bessie" of youthful days; not friends learning to
know and love each other, but sisters with a wealth of buried
recollections to be brought out to the light of day; interests, tastes,
and affections in common; only a spark, an electric flash of memory,
needed to illuminate the whole. No wonder that the time passed happily,
and "life between four walls" dawned upon the sufferer, not without
promise of alleviation.

For, in spite of the hours spent in the tent, it was practically already
life within four walls. All thought of work or occupation outside her
own home had to be abandoned; she must keep only that which she could
guide and control from the sick-room. "I feel like a train which has
been left upon a siding," she used to say.

Throughout the winter of 1872-73 she gave all the strength and time at
her disposal to the interests and occupations of the blind. A fresh
anxiety troubled her. Levy's health was failing seriously, and several
members of the Committee wished him to take a long leave of absence. The
work connected with his book, added to his ordinary duties as manager of
the Association, had exhausted his strength. Bessie received letters
from friends on the Committee telling her that Levy must have rest, and
from Levy saying it was impossible for him to take it during her
absence. The year 1873 was passing on with this, which seemed a heavy
cloud, hanging over her, when suddenly a storm burst, which swept away
all other anxiety in the one engrossing sorrow which it brought.

After less than a week's illness her beloved sister Mary, Mrs. Bowles,
died on 20th October at Milton Hill. Bessie was in the same house, but
was too ill to be taken to her sister's room; and they never met after
the day on which Mrs. Bowles was attacked by a fatal malady. Bessie's
sick-nurse, and an old and faithful servant of the Gilbert family, who
happened to be staying at Milton Hill, were unremitting in their
attention to Mrs. Bowles;