some papers which, for our mutual satisfaction, it is fitting you should examine." So saying, she unlocked the little casket. "This," said she, in a faltering voice, "is the certificate of my—your marriage,"—she could not pronounce her mother's name to him;—"this the register of my own baptism; and this the record of her death and interment in the burying-ground of Santa Caterina."
Lord Avonleigh glanced over them; but as he read the last, his whole countenance changed. "Great God!" he exclaimed: "Her death occurred in August, and I was married in England seven months before! Francesca, if I acknowledge you, Albert is—" But his voice failed, and he leant back in speechless consternation.
For the first time in his life, an insuperable obstacle arose before his intention. He could not but feel most forcibly the justice of Francesca's claims: he could not hope that she would relinquish them; and yet, Albert to be disgraced, disinherited! and through whose fault?—his father's! He sprang up and approached the door, gasping for air. Francesca, who had rot comprehended his meaning, thought him ill, and approached him with gentle words of inquiry.
"Not yet," said he; and drawing her hand
