sten, it is
growing late; besides I cannot tell you minute particulars, for I was
myself a child when the event happened, though Susanna has told me many
things that would probably be worth relating. Her excellenza's mother
was a Chevreaux, and my mistress spent the best years of her life with
her mother's sister, who during the winter lived in Paris. It was in the
reign of the late King Francis, and you doubtless know that this great
Prince was a very gallant gentleman, who was said to have broken as
many hearts as lances. My padrona, who in those days was very beautiful,
belonged to the ladies of his court, and King Francis especially
distinguished her. But the young lady knew how to guard her honor, for
she had early found in the gallant Marquis d'Avennes a knight to whom
she was loyally devoted, and for whom she had wept bitterly many a
night. Like master, like servant, and though the marquis had worn
the young lady's color for years and rendered her every service of an
obedient knight, his eyes and heart often wandered to the right and
left. Yet he always returned to his liege-lady, and when the sixth year
came, the Chevreaux's urged the marquis to put an end to his trifling
and think of marriage. My mistress began to make her preparations, and
Susanna was a witness of her consultation with the marquis about whether
she would keep or sell the Holland estates and castles. But the wedding
did not take place, for the marquis was obliged to go to Italy with the
army and her excellenza lived in perpetual anxiety about him; at that
time the French fared ill in my country, and he often left her whole
months without news. At last he returned and found in the Chevreaux's
house his betrothed wife's little cousin, who had grown up into a
charming young lady.

"You can imagine the rest. The rose-bud Hortense now pleased the marquis
far better than the Holland flower of five and twenty. The Chevreaux's
were aristocratic but deeply in debt, and the suitor, while fighting in
Italy, had inherited the whole of his uncle's great estate, so they
did not suffer him to sue in vain. My mistress returned to Holland. Her
father challenged the marquis, but no blood was spilled in the duel, and
Monsieur d'Avennes led a happy wedded life with Hortense de Chevreaux.
Her son was the signorina's hapless lover. Do you understand, Herr
Wilhelm? She had nursed and fostered the old grudge for half a life
time; for its sake she had sacrificed her ow