turning the discourse on Italy, contrived to talk about her former friend—the most interesting subject she could have selected. Any one possessed of less finesse would have disparaged a rival,—not so Marie. She praised Francesca; told many slight but amusing anecdotes of her childhood, and all in her favour; till the King was charmed with her for such warm and ingenuous friendship, and with himself for having been the first to discover those merits and graces.
In the mean time, Francesca, separated from Madame de Mercœur, was hidden by a group around the Queen of Sweden. With the wall on one side, and a human blockade on the other, she was left at full leisure to meditate on a vow made at the first announcement of the lottery, namely, that whatever might fall to her lot she would offer in a neighbouring chapel to the Virgin, at whose shrine she would kneel one hour for Guido's safe return. But conversation was too busy to allow of any very abstracted meditation, and she was compelled, perforce, to listen.
"I shall carry away with me," said Christina, "An equally brilliant and grateful remembrance of your court."
"I trust," said the Duke de Candale, "you
