Lord Wentworth, when he saw his sister failing so fast, as a last resource communicated with the then celebrated Abernethy, who, on hearing the case, ordered her immediate removal to Rome, or else inland as far as she could bear the journey. Accordingly a carriage was fitted up as a couch, and the lady removed from the Villa Reale, travelling by easy stages to the ancient mistress of the world. The journey again seemed to feed the dying flame of life, and the Earl with joy beheld his sister able to be wheeled once more to the balcony of the palace which he rented. It was but once she was permitted to do this: never more did she quit her couch. The fatal sirocco blew for three days, and this seemed to dry up the last hope. On the evening of the last day she called her friends to her bedside, and told them she was dying. The scene was peculiarly sad. From their windows they saw the Capitol with its ruined towers in the last light of day,--and her sun was sinking too! The Earl sat with downcast looks near the foot of the dying girl's bed; Mr. Ravensworth and Maude sat on one side, and on the other knelt the Countess whispering words of comfort in her friend's ear. The expiring beauty sat up in her bed, and, pointing to the reflected beams on the ruins, said-- "My sun is, too, setting, Ellen; if there is one grief in parting, it is leaving you." "You will rise again, as will that orb, brighter, and in a better land, Florence love! But, oh! it is hard to lose you, though we should not grudge the change from weeping into glory, and life into eternity. Are you happy, dear?" "I never was happier; could all my life be promised over again, I would not wish to live! to die is far better. I do but go before, Ellen, and I shall see him!" She then lay down again as if exhausted; her breathing became quicker, as though she almost panted for breath; a light of glory seemed to shine on her face, and her eye looked brighter still; her lips moved as though she were speaking, but no words were whispered. "Did you speak, love?" asked the Countess. "I am dying now,--I feel the chain that still holds me here slackening fast. Ellen, love, farewell!--Wentworth,--dear Maude, and--Mr. Ra--vensworth--adieu! adieu!"