parture she returned, and was received privily into a castle, that was in a wood, out of the city.
The delicate and susceptible nature of the duchess soon told her, that something perilous threatened her love. By the duke's manner and conduct, she could read a difference in his heart; yet could she by no means suspect the cause. Trusting, however, to his honour as well as she could, she stifled these feelings, and bent to all his humours; endeavouring by patient suffering to win him back to what he was. Yet did she never question him of the difference; nor even appear to know it, except by the greater tenderness of her conduct.
Alfred, who watched over the lady's happiness with the vigilance of a lynx; when he found the truth, hated the Tuscan, and dedicated himself by all means in his power to procure the duchess peace and tranquility. Willingly would he have taken what the duke had cast aside; but he knew the duchess's nature, and her love for the duke, and he never divulged himself, nor the heavy secret of his heart.
When he saw the duchess sicken, and become pale, his heart ached for her; and he tried by all means in his power to make good the stories of the duke, when he excused himself for having been abroad all night, by saying, he had hunted
