s had ever been opened. While
that dear heart, now at rest, was pouring forth her love and sorrow to
the ears that should have been above all others ready to receive them,
her letters, as they arrived, were flung uncared for, unread, even
unopened, into any haphazard receptacle.

The days passed one by one at the Villa de Angelis with but little
incident, nor did my brother's health either visibly improve or decline.
Though the weather was still more than usually warm, a grateful breeze
came morning and evening from the sea and tempered the heat so much as
to render it always supportable. John would sometimes in the evening sit
propped up with cushions on the trellised balcony looking towards Baia,
and watch the fishermen setting their nets. We could hear the melody
of their deep-voiced songs carried up on the night air. "It was here,
Sophy," my brother said, as we sat one evening looking on a scene like
this,--"It was here that the great epicure Pollio built himself a famous
house, and called it by two Greek words meaning a 'truce to care,' from
which our name of Posilipo is derived. It was his _sans-souci_, and here
he cast aside his vexations; but they were lighter than mine. Posilipo
has brought no cessation of care to me. I do not think I shall find any
truce this side the grave; and beyond, who knows?"

This was the first time John had spoken in this strain, and he seemed
stirred to an unusual activity, as though his own words had suddenly
reminded him how frail was his state. He called Raffaelle to him and
despatched him on an errand to Naples. The next morning he sent for me
earlier than usual, and begged that a carriage might be ready by six in
the evening, as he desired to drive into the city. I tried at first to
dissuade him from his project, urging him to consider his weak state of
health. He replied that he felt somewhat stronger, and had something
that he particularly wished me to see in Naples. This done, it would be
better to return at once to England: he could, he thought, bear the
journey if we travelled by very short stages.

CHAPTER XIV

Shortly after six o'clock in the evening we left the Villa de Angelis.
The day had been as usual cloudlessly serene; but a gentle sea-breeze,
of which I have spoken, rose in the afternoon and brought with it a
refreshing coolness. We had arranged a sort of couch in the landau with
many cushions for my brother, and he mounted into the carriage with more
ea