Clarice Egerton's Life Story by Annette Lyster

IT was about this time that Clarice became convinced that she could venture to move without bringing back pain and inflammation in her injured knee. Painful to a certain extent it must always be, for it was twisted and distorted in a dreadful manner; but the acute agony which used to follow upon every attempt at movement seemed to have worn itself out. Clarice tried several experiments when she was quite alone, and succeeded beyond her hopes. She began to wonder if she could not contrive some kind of support, which would make walking possible. The pain in her back she believed to be only the consequence of lying so much in the same position, and therefore determined "not to mind it."

In writing the story of Clarice Egerton, I find that I am not giving any true idea of the amount of suffering which she bore so quietly. But really she said so little about it, and gave way to it so little, that the fact that she was a great and constant sufferer was never brought much before even her own family. To Guy alone did she ever speak of it, after her mother's death; and he always said that he only knew of her suffering because she sometimes told him how pleasant it was to be free from pain again.