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 *ceive," said he, "but one of the epistles with which you have been favoured; and I am already before hand with you in hearing news of far greater importance than the loss of a lover."—The Duchess of Altamonte. "What of her?" "After a few hours illness," continued Viviani, drawing one of the English papers from his pocket, "the Duchess of Altamonte is safely delivered of a son and heir." The blood forsook Lady Margaret's lips: "I am lost then!" she said: "the vengeance of Heaven has overtaken me! where shall I turn for succour? Is there none upon earth to whom I can apply for assistance? Will no one of all those who profess so much, assist me? Shall Dartford triumph, and my son be supplanted? Revenge—revenge me, and I will be your slave."

If the name of love must be given alike to the noblest and most depraved of feelings, the young Viviani loved Lady Margaret with all the fervor of which