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170 As she spoke, her heart reproached her with Henriette's kindness—still, it was kindness only; how many hopes, fears, and cares, would she have, in which Madame de Mercœur could have no share! "Guido has made me fanciful. I am unthankful for the good which has really fallen to our share. Henriette is very, very kind—how glad I ought to be of such powerful protection! And my brother—this journey will do him good; the sight of our own dear Italy will be inspiration to him—again he will feel the excitement of praise, and he will return eager and hopeful." Yet, as she kissed his brow to waken him, she left her tears upon his cheek.

The bustle of a departure suspends everything but itself; and it was not till Guido rode out of the court-yard, that Francesca remembered, or fancied she remembered, a thousand things that yet remained to say. Fortunately for her, Bournonville was too much occupied to administer more than a word of consolation in passing; and she remained in the window-seat, watching the gateway through which he rode, as if she every moment expected him to return.

Suddenly she started from her seat, the bell rung, and a horseman entered; the dark-grey colour of the horse made her heart beat; but in an