Account of Mary Robinson's deathbed, from the 'Continuation by a Friend' of her memoirs: 'Pressing to her heart her daughter [...] she held her head for some minutes clasped against her bosom [...] "[italics]Poor heart[end italics]!" murmured she, in a deep and stifled tone, "[italics]what will become of thee[end italics]!" She paused some moments, and at length, struggling to assume more composure, desired in a calmer voice, that some one would read to her. Throughout the remainder of the evening, she continued placidly and even cheerfully attentive to the person who read.'