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Rh disordered braids of her rich auburn hair lay like dark gold round her white brow and throat.

"My darling—my own sweet child! speak to me!" She smiled; but though the lips moved, not the faintest whisper was heard.

Still he gazed earnestly upon her; a joyous and deceitful incredulity sprang up within his heart. He drew the physician aside.

"Is there no hope in that bright and blooming face?"

"None," was the low, but decided answer.

Mazarin again approached the bed, but the effort was too much; he bowed his face down, and wept like a child.

Francesca, who still maintained her watch by the pillow, saw, by Madame de Mercœur's face, that she observed her uncle's distress—the large tears gathered on her own eyelids.

"For her sake," whispered Francesca, "I pray your Grace's composure."

The Cardinal had not been aware of her presence till that instant. He rose, walked across the room, and, drawing a chair forwards, seated himself, with one of Henriette's hands in his own.

"We will watch together," said he.

Madame de Mercœur looked from one to the other with a grateful and affectionate gaze, and