Yielding, therefore, the chair at the bedside to the quaint old housekeeper, Volumnia sits at a table a little removed, sympathetically sighing. Sir Leicester watches the sleet and snow and listens for the returning steps that he expects. In the ears of his old servant, looking as if she had stepped out of an old picture-frame to attend a summoned Dedlock to another world, the silence is fraught with echoes of her own words, "Who will tell him!"
He has been under his valet's hands this morning to be made presentable and is as well got up as the circumstances will allow. He is propped with pillows, his grey hair is brushed in its usual manner, his linen is arranged to a nicety, and he is wrapped in a responsible dressing-gown. His eye-glass and his watch are ready to his hand. It is necessary--less to his own dignity now perhaps than for her sake--that he should be seen as little disturbed and as much himself as may be. Women will talk, and Volumnia, though a Dedlock, is no exceptional case. He keeps her here, there is little doubt, to prevent her talking somewhere else. He is very ill, but he makes his present stand against distress of mind and body most courageously.

Yielding, therefore, to the quaint old housekeeper, Volumnia sits at a table, sympathetically sighing. Sir Leicester watches the sleet and snow and listens for the returning steps that he expects. His valet has made him as presentable as the circumstances will allow. He is propped with pillows, his grey hair is brushed, his linen neatly arranged, and he is wrapped in a dressing-gown. His eye-glass and his watch are ready to his hand. It is necessary that he should be seen as little as may be. Women will talk, and Volumnia is no exception. He keeps her here to prevent her talking somewhere else. He is very ill, but he makes his stand against distress of mind and body most courageously.
