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CHAPTER XXVI.
"What vanity in the empty bustle of common life!"
"I gaze upon the beautiful, and my mind responds to the Inspiration; for my thoughts are lovely as my visions."
Contarini Fleming.
That stroll in the forest was Guido's last. The moistened ground, on which he had walked after the falling rain, had given him cold, and his illness increased rapidly and fearfully; but his sense of his danger only showed itself in a gentler patience and a deeper tenderness.
Alas for poor Francesca! to watch the sole being on earth that loved her thus dying day by day! She would sit by him for hours, holding his hand in hers, and gazing, till she could no longer bear to meet those affectionate eyes which would so soon be closed for ever. She would leave him, to weep those tears of passionate regret with which she could not bear to harass him; and when she came back, he would mark the scarcely dried tears, and draw her tenderly to his side; but even he dared not attempt consolation.
