It was indeed remarkable that she was able to do as much as she did. One who saw her in her work writes of the untiring enthusiasm and activity with which she gave herself to it: "Her work was her very life. She talked to me of her plans for the woman's school, and of her great desire to see a revival here in the schools. I am sure you know of her work last summer when the missionaries were all away--how, feeling that it was a mistake that the native Christians should be without the helps of divine worship and the weekly prayer meeting, she, with her sister's help, opened the church and held services all through the hot summer, _doing the preaching herself_ and thus holding the people together. I never met any one at home or here whose whole soul was more on fire with a burning desire to win souls than was Anna Stone's, and I have met a large number of prominent workers in my work at home. She undoubtedly realized that her time was very short and she must work all the time while she had strength. Her work was not only in the school ... but she was at work in the day schools and boarding schools, in the church, in the league, in the visitation, in the hospital--everywhere where her life was able to touch others; and one felt the influence of the Holy Spirit whenever in merest conversation with the girl. That happy smile and merry laugh that so won the hearts of the people at home were bestowed upon every one here, and I do not wonder she was able to reach hearts where others failed." Her enthusiasm for her work doubtless made it hard not only for her to measure her own strength, but also for others to estimate it. But toward the close of the summer of 1905 it became evident to all, even to herself, that she had been overtaxing herself and must lighten her work. "Sister makes me take beef juice, milk, and bread and butter," she said in a letter to Mrs. Joyce. "Everybody tells me I am thin, but I am doing my best to get fat. Every afternoon I devote all the time to get well. I sleep after dinner, then go out riding for fresh air, so you see your little girl does live high and extravagantly." During this summer she received news of the serious illness of her friend and foster-father, Bishop Joyce. This was a great source of anxiety and sorrow to her. "How I wish I had means to go right to his dear presence to tell him how I revere and love him for what he has done for me, and for what he is to the world," she wrote his wife. "I envy I-lien's privilege of being there. It must be a great comfort to be able to put one's heart-full of love and sympathy into little services that he may need at this time."