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184 the Comtesse, suddenly: "methinks all looks so calm and so lovely, that earth has no wrong that might not here be forgotten." And she almost spoke truth; for beautiful was the mingled repose and animation of the scene.

It was yet very early, and the crimson flush of daybreak still lingered in some of the floating clouds. A silvery haze veiled the more distant landscape—melting, however, fast before the sunbeams, which were filled with that clear yet gentle light which belongs only to the first few hours of day. Deep yet soft shadows fell from every tree; but the sun shone full on the old church, turning the narrow panes of its glittering windows into molten and wavy gold; and kindling the clustering ivy, till every broad and smooth leaf was a mirror silvered with the dew. The air was musical with the singing of innumerable birds, the fragrance of the first violets came upon the wind, and the last primroses spread their pale beauty over Guido's tomb.

"It was on the third day ofthat Guido died," said Marie.

"How ever did you know so accurately?" exclaimed Francesca, astonished; "I thought you said last night you were till then unacquainted with my bitter, my heavy loss?"