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278 curiously wrought tortoise-shell—a gift of my Uncle's; and she is forced to recall my promise by a visit."

There was something singularly interesting in the youthful Princess, who now entered. Her figure was very childish, and so were her small and delicate features;—not so their expression; for there was a degree of thought, mournful in one so young; and her large blue eyes bad that melancholy which is almost always prophetic. It was strange, that while gazing on that fair child, images of misfortune, early death, and all life's saddest accidents, rose uppermost in the mind;—it was like spring with the association of autumn.

Henriette approached, and, with a remarkably sweet voice, addressed Madame de Mercœur—blushing, as it were, at the sound of her own voice; "You see, Madame, what it is to promise a pleasure;—am I too bold in reminding you of your caskets? Remember, if I intrude, the fault began in your own kindness."

Madame de Mercœur was all delight and courtesy, and the caskets were immediately produced. "I must make a merit of a fault," added she, "And hope my candour will excuse my forgetfulness. It is curious, that just as your