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Rh the Duchesse herself had placed the flowers; the water had long since dried up, and the black and withered stalks were all that remained. Francesca entered unperceived by the Cardinal, who stood gazing on the vacant chair which, the last time he was in this room, had been the seat of his beloved niece. Her shadow fell on the wall, and the Cardinal's attention was instantly aroused; he paused, as if unwilling to give way to any appearance of emotion, and approached his young countrywoman with a kind but calm demeanour; when, gazing upon her face, pale with tears and close confinement,—"My poor child," said he, taking her hand gently, "How ill you look!—we must not allow you to neglect yourself."

Unexpected kindness, though it be but a word or a glance, goes direct to the heart; it did to poor Francesca's,—so lonely, so uncared for, it was doubly sweet. Her lip trembled, she felt the tears gushing up, and dared not trust her voice.

"I am come to talk to you about yourself; sit down:" and he led her to the window.

"You are very good," whispered Francesca.

"I am grateful;" and then, as if unwilling to dwell even in allusion to the past, he continued, "I am commissioned by the Queen to offer you