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Rh in a moment by the shadowy gleams glimmering through the green branches of an old elm-tree which almost hid her window. She started up—her first thought was of Guido, and that she had slept too long; but a terrible consciousness rushed over her, and her head sank on her pillow, while she closed her eyes, as if to shut out her fear. She was still dizzy with sleep, and the many visions of the night rose confusedly before her. For the moment she essayed to slumber again—suddenly the very suspense she had sought became too dreadful. She sprang out of bed, and ran to Guido's room; it was darkened—the curtains were closed around him who had so loved the light and air. The truth instantly flashed upon her, and she staggered against the wall for support. For a few moments she stood as if stunned, and then drew nigh towards the bed, where lay the remains, insensible and cold, of him who but yesterday was alive to her affection, and anxious for her welfare. She could not look upon him, but, flinging herself on her knees, hid her face in the bed-clothes, and wept passionately. All her early life crowded upon her memory—the old palazzo, amid whose deserted chambers each had a favourite haunt; their wandering rambles