"For me," replied Isabella.
"Heavenly Father!" exclaimed the aja. "Have you then presumed to anticipate the will of God, and to go before His presence, uncalled?"
"No, no, death will come to me, I will not seek it. I will endure life as long as God wills, but, in three days, I shall be called hence."
The young girls crowded around her, weeping, and imploring her not to leave them.
Isabella's white lips parted with a strange smile. "You tell me not to die, dear friends; do you not see that I am already dead? My heart is bleeding."
The hand of the cameriera was laid upon her arm, and she whispered: "My child, be silent; you know not what you say."
Isabella bowed her head, and then looking tenderly around at her kneeling companions, she said: "Rise and sit by me, my dear girls, and listen to what I am about to say, for we speak together for the last time on earth. "
The maidens arose, and obeyed, while Isabella leaned her head for a few moments upon the bosom of her mother's friend, the cameriera. There was a pause, during which the poor girl seemed to have received some comfort in those friendly arms; for she finally sighed, and, raising her head again, she spoke solemnly, but not unnaturally.
"I had last night a singular vision," she said. "The spirit of my mother appeared to me, and said that in three days I was to die. I believe in this vision. Do not weep, dear sisters; I go to eternal rest. Life is bitter, death is sweet. Pray for me, that my mother's prophetic words be verified; and you, beloved friend of that mother," added she, kissing the cameriera's cheek, "you who know the depths of my heart, and its secret, silent agony, pray for your child, and praying, ask of her heavenly Father—death."
The aja made no reply, she was weeping with the others.