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Rh Duchesse's confinement, when she would have an undeniable excuse for remaining with her. "And by that time," thought she, "Guido will be returned; we will then fix on our future plan of life. Ah! I should be happier in our old dwelling than here. Guido, I know, loves his native land the best; and we, in seeking each other's pleasure, shall both find our own. Surely we have both said farewell for ever to the vain dreams with which we came to Paris."

There was vanity and pleasure enough around her now to have turned many a young head, and to have supplied many excuses for the turning. But Francesca was thoughtful beyond her years. The traces of her early disappointment were indelible; not that she sunk or pined away under the blow—she owned, after the first shock was past, and the beating heart severely tasked, that life had still many duties, and even some enjoyments. Were it only as a debt to Madame de Mercœur's kindness, some appearance of cheerfulness was necessary; and assumed cheerfulness often becomes more real than is always acknowledged. But, unlike the generality of her age, love now occupied no place in the future. How could she ever believe in the worthiness of any