sanguine character led him to plunge into speculations--they failed, and in
the anxiety and agitation which his embarrassments occasioned him, he fell
into bad health, his physicians ordered him to Italy. Helen, his devoted
nurse, the object upon which all his affections centered, accompanied him
to Florence. There his health and spirits seemed at first, by the change
of climate, to be renovated; but in Italy he found fresh temptations to
extravagance, his learning and his fancy combined to lead him on from day
to day to new expense, and he satisfied his conscience by saying to himself
that all the purchases which he now made were only so much capital, which
would, when sold in England, bring more than their original price, and
would, he flattered himself, increase the fortune he intended for his
niece. But one day, while he was actually bargaining for an antique, he was
seized with a fit of apoplexy. From this fit he recovered, and was able to
return to England with his niece. Here he found his debts and difficulties
had been increasing; he was harassed with doubts as to the monied value of
his last-chosen chef-d'oeuvres; his mind preyed upon his weakened frame, he
was seized with another fit, lost his speech, and, after struggles the most
melancholy for Helen to see, conscious as she was that she could do nothing
for him--he expired--his eyes fixed on her face, and his powerless hand
held between both hers.

All was desolation and dismay at the deanery; Helen was removed to the
vicarage by the kindness of the good vicar and his wife, Mr. and Mrs.
Collingwood.

It was found that the dean, instead of leaving a large fortune, had nothing
to leave. All he had laid out at the deanery was sunk and gone; his real
property all sold; his imaginary wealth, his pictures, statues--his whole
collection, even his books, his immense library, shrunk so much in value
when estimated after his death, that the demands of the creditors could not