gined that one of the guests had dropped it by accident. His master took it from him, and glancing carelessly at the address; "For my wife," he said, "and open, too!-we have no secrets, so I suppose I may read it." No sooner, however, had he glanced over the first few lines, than the blood rushed to his cheeks, and the next moment they became deadly pale: he clenched the letter, as if unconsciously, in his grasp, and cast a hurried glance, first at his wife, and then at the domestic.

"You found it on the staircase ?" he said, at length.

The domestic answered in the affirmative, amazed apparently at the sudden change in his master's manner.

"Your Excellency seems unwell," said the envoy of Visconti, who stood amid the group which surrounded him.

"I thank you, I am well-perfectly well," replied Gonzaga, and hurried out of the apart

ment.

"His Excellency has certainly received some bad news," observed Antonio, to one of the

byestanders; "I never saw a man change colour

so rapidly."

"Some private affair of the lady's," replied another; "what can a man expect if he is fool enough to teach his wife to write ?"

"mine can

"Thank heaven!" said a third, can neither write nor read-so she may get a score of billets daily, and be none the wiser."

As the latter spoke, their host rëentered the room, and advancing to the group, said in a voice whose affected calmness ill concealed his emotion; "My lords, I regret that owing to an unfortunate occurrence, I must take my leave of you at this early hour: my wife,”—he pronounced the word emphatically,—“ will do the honours in my absence. I wish you all a good night."

And turning abruptly on his heel, he left the apartment.

The guests stared at each other.

"What can be the matter?" said the

Milan.

66

envoy of

Jealousy, my lord, jealousy!" replied one

of the group.

"Yet I ever thought the Lady Agnes a pattern of virtue," said he who had spoken first.

"And so I will maintain her to be," said a young nobleman; "gainsay me who dare."

Some of the strangers looked grave, and shook their heads, but none replied; and the news of Gonzaga's sudden disappearance, which had been unobserved by his wife, spread speedily throughout the room. The guests began to whisper in groups about the cause of their host's absence: the dance was carried on with less spirit, and the crowd soon became thinner. It was in vain that the Lady Agnes left the alcove in which she had been seated, and went about from group to group encouraging the dancers, and urging those of her guests who were taking their leave to remain: in spite of all her efforts the saloon was empty in little more than half an hour from the time her husband left it.

"Where is your master?" asked the lady, of a domestic who remained in attendance.

"He has been alone in his own chamber, signora, for the last half hour; and desired that he might not be disturbed."

The lady, without replying, left the apartment; and mounting a broad staircase, proceeded along a spacious lighted corridor to her husband's room.

The door was not fastened, and she entered.

Gonzaga was seated at a table, on which lay several letters. His face, which rested upon one hand, was averted from her; and he retained the same position, as if unconscious of her presence.

66 Has my lord received any ill news, that he left his guests so suddenly?" enquired his wife. "Your father is a prisoner, lady; and your monkish cousin, Galeazzo, is master of Milan," replied Gonzaga.

"Alas! my lord, why do you remind me of my unhappy parent's fate ?"

"Men say that he was a reveller, lady— loved wine, women, and ungodly companyan oppressor of the innocent, and a scorner of

our holy religion-do they speak the truth ?"

"Do I deserve to be upbraided with my father's errors?"

"Such men seldom die in peace."

"What is the meaning of all this?" exclaimed his wife, with a look of bewildered surprise. "And your cousin"

"What of him?"

66

ing."

They say he is but a wolf in lamb's cloth

"And I-what am I?”

"Why, my wife-my true and faithful wife: the love of my youth-the mother of my children."

"Now speaks my own Francesco."

"Say you so ?"

"Good heavens! Francesco, why this sudden change of manner? Something has vexed you —some disturbance among the foreign soldiery -some broken treaty, or confounded plot—you were not wont to conceal anything from me."

"True: a most foul and damned plot. But I slander the fiends: hell cannot match the treacherous breast in depth and blackness."

"Alas! my lord, my heart is wrung to see you thus moved."

"You are an angel, Agnes, either of good or evil."