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Rh "You were not such an advocate of the Stuarts in Italy," said Francesca.

"Forsooth, my beauty," replied her lover, laughing, "I had not then seen how all the pretty faces in England are being spoilt by their straight caps and close coifs. I should renounce the Puritans, were it but for the sake of those glossy tresses. And now, sweetest, keep your chamber closely till I return. I love not that gay gallants of Paris should hawk round my dovecot."

"Your caution seems to me most needless," replied the Italian, the haughty blood of her race rushing to her brow.

"Nay, I meant not to offend; but who can have a miser's treasure, and not guard it with a miser's care? And now, farewell; I leave my fetters on you." So saying, he flung over her neck a small Venetian chain of delicately wrought gold: "So light, yet so firm, are the links which bind my heart!"

Francesca leant by the window after he was gone, and, almost unaware, watched his graceful figure recede from her sight; and it seemed like a relief when she could see him no more.

"And this, then," thought she, "is inconstancy—that inconstancy of which the tales of my native land are so full. It no longer excites my