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100 As for Madame de Soissons, immersed in a round of gaieties, and petty intrigues for still pettier objects, she knew she had behaved unkindly to her former friend, and therefore dismissed her image, as she would have done any other unpleasant thought. Louis had discovered that Mademoiselle la Motte had eyes almost as bright, and much kinder than those of the young Italian. And as for the common run of acquaintance, who ever expects to be remembered by them?

At last Francesca was summoned to the parlour. She waited to make no inquiry—she felt sure who it was; and in a minute found herself clasped in her brother's affectionate embrace.

Let those who have passed their childhood and youth together, and then separated for the first time—a long and weary separation,—let them imagine the happiness of meeting again.

"Francesca, dearest, you are pale!" exclaimed Guido when the first confusion of joy was past.

Francesca started—she had forgotten almost to look on Guido's face. Slowly, as if she were collecting her courage, she gazed upon him, more in fear than in hope. Ah! her foreboding was right; he looked ill, very ill—but so beautiful! The eyes were larger and brighter than ever, but sunk deeper in the socket; the skin was clear with