"You would be very ungrateful—very ungrateful. Your poor mother has loved you dearly. Kiss me, do not cry. I am not sorry to leave this world. What hurt me was the thought that you, child of my heart—you—oh, horrible to think of! How it has tortured me!"
The priest here interposed, desiring her to turn her mind from worldly thoughts. The sick woman listened with humility, and devoutly echoed the prayers he spoke in a loud voice. The doctor and the Duke came close to the bed, but, seeing that Doña Carmen was breathing her last, the physician took Requena by the arm to lead him out of the room. Doña Carmen's glazing eye wandered round the little group till it rested on Clementina, to whom she signed to come closer.
"God bless you, my child," she said, with a gaze fixed on the ceiling. "You are right to be glad at my death."
"Mamma, mamma, what are you saying?" cried Clementina, in horror.
"I am glad, too, glad that my death should be an advantage to you. If I could have given you all while I lived, I would have done it. It is sad, is it not, that I should have to die to make you happy? I should have liked to see you happy. Good-by; good-by. Think sometimes of your poor mamma."
"Mother, dearest mother!" sobbed the younger woman, dropping on her knees with a burst of tears. "I do not want you to die, no, no. I have been very wicked, but I have always loved you, have always respected you."
"Do not be foolish," said the dying woman, smiling with an effort, and laying her hand on the fair head. "I am not sorry if you are glad. And what does it matter? I die content to know that you will owe some happiness to me. Remember my old women in the asylum, be kind to them, and to Marcella, my good Marcella. Farewell, all of you. Forgive me any faults——"
Her voice failed, her breathing was hard and painful. The sobs of Clementina and Marcella were the only other sound. The Duke, trembling and shocked, was at last persuaded to leave the room.
Doña Carmen spoke no more. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, she lay quite still. Now and then she half raised her eyelids and looked fondly at her step-daughter who remained kneeling. The priest read on in a quavering nasal voice prayer after prayer.
Thus died the Duchess de Requena. Let her depart in peace.