sons, who, in spite of the lively dialogue which she was carrying on with the King, observed a favourite rule, which was, to allow nothing to escape her notice, marked Francesca's change of countenance also—from its first deadly paleness to its crimson confusion: and her inference was quite opposite to that of the Duke. He, however, was stimulated to complete a conquest so happily commenced: first, because he considered love as a proper compliment, which all women owed him; secondly, because Francesca was a beauty; and, thirdly, an heiress,— the last motive being the most powerful; for, as the worthy biographer of Sir John Parrot justly observes, "nothing doth more stimulate men to action than desire of gain." Holding imitation to be the most delicate of flattery, the Duke usually made it a point of conscience to adopt the tastes of the fair dame to whom, for the time, he devoted himself. "Self-love," as he was wont to observe, "was thus enlisted on his side of the question—she preferred herself in him."
In a moment Francesca recovered herself, and, joining as carelessly as she could in the conversation, said, "As far as my experience has gone, I infinitely prefer the country to the town. There is something to me at once desolate, and yet confined, in a city. The multitude of faces
