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Rh bootless errand; for the news arrived this morning, that the daughter of the pious regicide is married to some young nobleman, whose name I have forgotten. Has Mr. Evelyn your permission for any length of absence?"

Now, this was really too much: Francesca felt at once enraged and powerless. How is that impertinence to be checked, to which silence is no rebuke; and which, yet, is your only method of marking your displeasure?

But a thoroughly unselfish temper is singularly alive to the feelings of others. While Marie Mancini, engrossed by the amusement of the minute, had no attention to give beyond the gay converse of the group around her, Madame de Mercœur had never quite lost sight of the stranger. She had observed the whole of De Joinville's manner. Perhaps, too, a little pride might blend with her kindness: she had been too much accustomed to homage to tolerate for a moment the young courtier's supercilious manner to one whom she protected. Advancing to where Francesca stood, she took her arm, and said, in a tone of affectionate familiarity, "Cara amica mia,—I love to speak to you in our native language, though, do you know, I have somewhat lost its practice,—how have you formed acquaintance