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208 Madame de Soissons leant back in her chair thoughtfully. "She knows England better than I do. Perhaps these demi-sauvages may stand upon their dignity as much as Louis himself; and the coronet is what the crown is not—attainable." Then pursuing the thread of her thoughts, she said aloud, "But, Francesca, you will surely accept his Grace? What can you hope for more?"

"Much, much more—a heart for which my own will be given in exchange. I would not marry the man I did not love for all the wealth of the east, and for the united honours of France and England."

"Love!" ejaculated the Comtesse; "And so throw away the chances of a life upon a month of honey!—I say a month, which is allowing a latitude tenderness never took. Love! why that is cheating yourself into marriage, as they cheat the children—a little sugar at first, to conceal the nauseous draught which follows. You will find that, at the very best, marriage is a state which requires all sorts of resources to make it even endurable; but to marry for love aggravates the evil—it adds contrast to its other disappointments. Far better to make up your mind to the worst, and say at once, I know that weariness is the