spects, a custom I always observed) and requested me to step out on business. "O, Sir! (cried she, we are all undone—the poor nurse is frantic—the sweet child, the young Countess, is dead! expired an hour ago, in convulsions, whilst poor Agatha thought it in a sweet sleep." I pretended to be most exceedingly shocked; exclaimed against the nurse, sent for a physician—would have the body examined, I did so; I ran to Agatha's apartment the other end of the house, abused her for her carelessness; she, who was really grieved for the loss of her own child, shed torrents of tears. The physician came; he examined the child; he said, it was really sudden convulsions had carried it off and no fault in the nurse, the disorder being common among infants. This satisfied every one; nobody troubled themselves about Agatha's child. I sent off to the Count Morlini's, who had left us the day before, intending to return the following one. He came immediately; I detained the physician. The Count made very minute enquiries, and was, or ap-