The ghostly viaticum being over, the priest and his assistants left the

house. But the pale, grinning shadow of death continued to stand by the

perfumed couch.

Roma had not been present at the offices, and presently the English

Sister came to say that the Countess wished to see her.

"It's perfectly miraculous," said the Sister. "She's like another

woman."

"Has she had her opiate lately?" said Roma, and the Sister answered that

she had.

Roma found her aunt in a kind of mystical transport. A great light of

joy, almost of pride, was shining in her face.

"All my pains are gone," she said. "All my sorrows and trials too. I

have laid them all on Christ, and now I am going to mount up with Him to

God."

Clearly she had no sense of her guilt towards Roma. She began to take a

high tone with her, the tone of a saint towards a sinner.

"You must conquer your worldly passions, Roma. You have been a sinner,

but you must not die a bad death. For instance, you are selfish. I am

sorry to say it, but you know you are. You must confess and dedicate

your life to fighting the sin in your sinful heart, and commend your

soul to His mercy who has washed me from all stain."

But the Countess's ethereal transports did not wholly eclipse her

worldly vanities when she proceeded to preparations for her funeral.

"Let there be a Requiem Mass, Roma. Everybody has it. It costs a little,

certainly, but we can't think of money in a case like this. And send for

the Raveggi Company to do the funeral pomps, and see they don't put me

on a tressel. I am a noble and have a right to be laid on the church

floor. See they bury me on high ground. The little Pincio is where the

best people are buried now, above the tomb of Duke Massimo."

Roma continued to say "Yes," and "Yes," and "Yes," though her very heart

felt sore.

Two hours afterwards the Countess was in her death agony. The tortured

body had prevailed over the rapturous soul, and she was calling for more

and more of the opiate. Everybody was odious to her, and her angular

face was snapping all round.

The priest came to say the prayers for the dying. It was near to sunset,

but the shutters were still closed, and the room had a grim solemnity. A

band was playing on the Pincio, and the strains of an opera mingled with

the petitions of the "breathing forth."




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