with true observance seek to eke out that desert, wherein
my homely stars have failed to equal my great fortunes." But this
humble speech of Helena's did not at all move the haughty Bertram to
pity his gentle wife, and he parted from her without even the common
civility of a kind farewel.

Back to the countess then Helena returned. She had accomplished the
purport of her journey, she had preserved the life of the king, and
she had wedded her heart's dear lord, the count Rossilion; but she
returned back a dejected lady to her noble mother-in-law, and as soon
as she entered the house, she received a letter from Bertram which
almost broke her heart.

The good countess received her with a cordial welcome, as if she
had been her son's own choice, and a lady of a high degree, and she
spoke kind words, to comfort her for the unkind neglect of Bertram
in sending his wife home on her bridal day alone. But this gracious
reception failed to cheer the sad mind of Helena, and she said,
"Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone." She then read these words out
of Bertram's letter: _When you can get the ring from my finger which
never shall come off, then call me husband, but in such a Then I write
a Never_. "This is a dreadful sentence!" said Helena. The countess
begged her to have patience, and said, now Bertram was gone, she
should be her child, and that she deserved a lord, that twenty such
rude boys as Bertram might tend upon, and hourly call her mistress.
But in vain by respectful condescension and kind flattery this
matchless mother tried to soothe the sorrows of her daughter-in-law.
Helena still kept her eyes fixt upon the letter, and cried out in an
agony of grief, _Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France_. The
countess asked her if she found those words in the letter? "Yes,
madam," was all poor Helena could answer.

The next morning Helena was missing. She left a letter to be delivered
to the countess after she was gone, to acquaint her with the reason of
her sudden absence: in this letter she informed her, that she was so
much grieved at having driven Bertram from his native country and his
home, that to atone for her offence she had undertaken a pilgrimage to
the shrine of St. Jaques le Grand, and concluded with requesting the
countess to inform her son that the wife he so hated had left his
house for ever.

Bertram, when he left Paris, went to Florence, and there became an
officer in the duke of Florence's army, an