"You do, do you? and what for?"

"So that my mother may not cry any more!"

"Nonsense, little chatterbox; why should your mother cry?"

"Oh yes, she does cry, and a great deal too; only when you come, she
dries her eyes, and smiles."

The Duke was touched; these artless words from the mouth of his child
contained a reproach which shamed him. Until then, he had never spoken
to his wife of the proposed divorce, and even now, although the
opportunity seemed favorable, he hesitated, for the consciousness of
his injustice deprived him of his courage.

Clemence read his thoughts, and a mingling of love for her husband and
pity for his weakness, joined to a faint hope that, even yet, he might
be weaned from his determination, decided her to speak.

"Dear Henry," she began, "a wife's duty is to watch and pray, whenever
a danger menaces her lord. I can no longer remain silent in the
presence of the schemers who seek to beguile you. The sinful projects
of the chancellor Rinaldo will destroy your eternal soul. Believe me,
no motive can excuse an evil deed; nothing can make innocent that which
the laws of God forbid. I am ready, if it were possible, to make any
sacrifice to your happiness, even were my heart to break in the
attempt!"

Tears choked her further utterance; but the Duke well knew that her
words were not an idle speech, but that they were dictated by true and
sincere affection.

"Why do you allude to this circumstance, so painful to us both," he
said. "There are some things which must be placed even above the
feelings of the heart. On the honor of a knight, Clemence, I look upon
you as the noblest of women, and yet, with me the Guelphic dynasty in
the North will end."

"I know the chancellor's famous discovery of our consanguinity!"
replied the Duchess. "Henry, you know that the plea is false. If our
divorce will make you happier, I would submit, without a murmur; but
the certainty that this divorce will imperil your immortal soul, wrings
my heart with anguish. Henry! I implore you, give up this guilty
project! Trust to the future.--Perhaps--perhaps, my days are numbered."

At this moment a horse's hoofs rang on the pavement of the outer court,
and almost immediately Rinaldo stood before the arbor. Clemence rose
hastily; although pale and trembling, her tears had ceased, and she
gazed upon the chancellor with a look of horror. Slowly leaving with
her child the presence of her husband, she cast upon him one