At last he fell dangerously ill, and I was inconsolable. I sent for doctors; I got three attendants for him, and ordered that he was to have every comfort.
MARIA STELLA, LADY NEWBOROUGH
FROM A BUST AT GLYNLLIFON
One day they came to tell me that on recovering from a sudden attack he had uttered my name and asked to see me. I flew to his bedside, kissing him and weeping over him. He looked at me with eyes full of sorrow, pressed my hand, and struggled hard to make himself understood; but his paralysed tongue refused to articulate anything but: “Mio Dio!—Barant, Baranto——”
I was overcome with grief at his state; I was advised to go; they led me away and put me into my carriage.
On the morrow my brother sent me word that the poor dying man being no better than on the previous day, a visit from me could not fail to be hurtful rather than helpful. On the following days he wrote to me in the same fashion, and at last came himself to tell me, with every sign of grief and affliction, that our father was no more.