This gradual change in the Marchesa had been as little noted by others as by herself; for Francesca, deeming herself secure of her first victim, had in a great measure discontinued her once frequent visits to her sister's apartment; and when she did go to her, it was for form's sake, and to prevent any suspicion, on the part of her brother, that aught was left undone that should be done for his wife. Mademoiselle Monti had never told Adèle (notwithstanding the extent to which she had already confided in her) how earnestly she desired the continuance of the Marchesa's mental disorder; and the bonne, not thinking it a subject of any interest to her who was in reality her mistress, had never communicated to her the observations she had inwardly made on Madame Monti having become so much more sensible in her remarks and answers. Francisco was of course too young to be capable of expressing his feelings on so difficult a topic, though the change in his mother produced an impression on him.

Her first impulse was to forwards to join him as in But the tones of another from whose half-whispered,

Lucy stood for many minutes still and silent, as if fearing to dispel the new-born charm that floated over her. She was hopelessly bewildered, when she endeavoured to unravel the tangled thread running through the last year of her destiny; all was clouded and confused, or perhaps, to speak more truly, it was to her as though it had never been. She thought of her husband and child, and gradually she recalled every thing to that last dreadful night, which even now she could not grasp with any thing like distinctness of memory. The sound of approaching footsteps broke upon her ear and interrupted her reverie. exclaim, "Fabio!" and spring those happy evenings of old. voice arrested her; that voice, creeping accents she had ever instinctively recoiled. So she retreated to her original position, behind a tall and spreading shrub, which effectually screened her from the sight of the passers-by. It was at a corner, where saunterers in a garden so often pause, because it is natural to do so, before turning round to retrace their steps; but it happened also to be the spot the farthest removed from the house, and consequently the one where there was the least chance of being overheard from it -a consideration which was not without its weight with the principal speaker, nor, as her speech proceeded, with the

listener. They were Mademoiselle Monti and Adèle, as the reader will have already guessed, who thus unknowingly exposed Lucy to the unpleasant alternative of remaining where she was in the character of an eavesdropper, or coming out suddenly upon them, before she had had time to muster courage for such an interview in her altered state. While she hesitated-even at the very moment when she was stepping forth-she heard the name of Francisco from the lips of his aunt, and, seized with an instinctive foreboding of danger to her child, she paused. But the sound of her light footstep had reached the quick ear of her sister-inlaw, who broke off abruptly in the midst of what she was saying, and asked Adèle what that rustling noise was?

"I saw the cat run across the path, Signorina, and go into the bushes-I should think, perhaps, the sound came from her-I did not hear any thing myself."

After looking suspiciously around her, and finding that all was silent, Mademoiselle Monti resumed

Adèle, as I was saying, I believe I may trust you fully, and again I assure you that your fidelity shall not go unrequited. Once more, I ask you, are you prepared to obey me implicitly and will you swear secrecy as to what I am about to communicate to you ?"

"By all my hopes of Heaven," began the French girl; but Francesca stopped her by saying—

י!

"Bah! bah! Adèle; such oaths avail me little. You had better swear by all your hopes of an earthly rewardby all your fears of my vengeance if you dare to betray me and she cast a look upon her young companion, which, bold and cunning as Adèle was, made her quail before it, as she felt that her superior, both in determination and craftiness, stood beside her.

"Comme vous voulez, Mademoiselle," she rejoined; "I well know it is to my interest to serve you, and execute your commands; and I will do so to the best of my ability."

"That will do," said Francesca. "You see that the long confirmed insanity of the Marchesa places that little boy entirely in my hands. Now, Adèle, I have sent to Doctor Martyn to tell him that I think my nephew is likely to have the same sort of rash to which he was subject last spring; and I have asked him to prescribe for him some cooling draughts, similar to those which removed it before.

The boy will go into Florence to-morrow morning with my note, and will bring the medicine from the chemists. You, Adèle, are to be on the watch for his return; you are to take the bottles from his hand, and bring them straight to me. But you are not to mention to any one that I told you all this; on the contrary, if hereafter you should be questioned about them, you are to declare that they were brought to you by one of the servants-that obstinate little thing, Gabrielle, you can say and that my only orders to you were, to be sure that your young master should take them regularly. Their effect upon him will be very gradual; but, Adèle, I have my own good reasons for wishing them to affect the child in a different way from what Doctor Martyn will intend; and so I shall change them, or add to them, for that purpose. Do you understand me, Adèle ?"

The French girl was silent for a time; she then replied, in a quick, decided tone—

“A half confidence, in a case like this, is of no use whatever, Signorina. You want to kill the child." (Francesca did not move a muscle; Lucy almost shieked, but she felt how all important was her self-command at that moment, and she stifled the rising cry.) "Now, I have no love for him, and he has always hated me; but still death is an unpleasant thing to deal with, and I must run a considerable risk in obeying you. Therefore, I must have a strong inducement for doing so; and I demand to know, in the event of our plot being successful, the amount of the reward which is to pay me for my services, and to ensure my eternal silence."

She looked steadily at Francesca, feeling that she had the advantage even over the superior understanding to which she had bowed a few minutes before. Mademoiselle Monti was not altogether unprepared for this; and, without hesitation, she answered

"An immedidate present of a hundred pounds; an annuity of thirty pounds until I come into possession of my fortune, when it shall be doubled. Will that content you?"

"Perfectly, Signorina," returned Adèle, who had nothing in the world except the amount of her wages, and knew that, were she turned adrift to-morrow, she had no means of obtaining the shadow of a respectable character, to enable her to get another place.

CHAPTER XVII

FOR at least half an hour after the disappearance of Francesca and her attendant, the Marchesa stood motionless on the spot where she had overheard the foregoing conversation. For a few seconds she half-doubted whether her reason had in truth re-visited her, or whether she had not rather become a victim to that most awful and tremendous visitation-conscious madness. But, as the first shock subsided, the clearness of her ideas and perceptions banished any such notion.

"Oh, my God!" murmured the wretched mother; “is it for this that Thou hast restored to me the light of my soul, only to show me the deep abyss of misery that is yawning before me? How can I rejoice in the returning powers of my mind, when they only enable me to discover Francesca's hellish machinations, without any means of averting them? For who will listen to the madwoman? who will believe that my words are not the mere idle ravings of insanity, and even regard them as an additional proof of it? I can now recall the way in which I have been addressed or answered of late, and how strange and unaccountable all has appeared to me!

"I must see Fabio! I must speak calmly; and, before I try to persuade him of the fearful danger to which our darling child is exposed, I must convince him, by my remarks on indifferent subjects, that the hour of darkness has gone by-that his wife is restored to him! And even, if—as some dim and terrible remembrance seems to warn me-even if he has ceased to love me-if another has torn his affections from me-still he must listen to the strong voice of nature— to the mother pleading for the child. My boy! my boy! you shall not die but by the hand of God; and who knows

that He has not graciously vouchsafed to give me back my reason, that I may save your precious life?"

A flood of tears came to poor Lucy's relief; and, yielding to the torrent of her emotions, she sank upon the earth, overcome by the full sense of all that was hanging over her. But it was not for long that she suffered her weakness thus to master her; she reflected that, without calmness, all her efforts would be in vain; and repressing all outward signs of agitation, save a trembling frame and a tottering gait, which her utmost endeavours failed to render steady, she returned to the house.

Her first question certainly did not tend towards establishing in the mind of the person she addressed, any conviction of her recovered intellect. She asked the servant she met, who chanced to be a valet, whether his master was at home that evening and flattered herself that the man could not fail to remark the alteration in her voice and manner, for she was wholly unconscious of her husband's departure for the sea-side, though he had bidden her farewell, and had tried to make her understand where he was going.

"The Marchese is out this evening," answered the man hurriedly, and with little respect towards his mistress; for he was a domestic of Mademoiselle Monti's choice, and, in the absence of Fabio, cared not how he spoke to Lucy. He was passing on when the lady addressed him again

"Is the Marchese gone into Florence? Did he leave word at what hour he should come home?"

66

'No," said Filippo, "it was hardly likely he should, considering that he has gone off to Switzerland with Mr. Deloraine-to England, perhaps, for aught I know or care.” "Switzerland!" ejaculated Lucy; but, recollecting herself, she added" ah! true, I had forgotten. Do you happen to know his address, Filippo?"

The man stared at her for an instant; and, muttering some expression of impatience, he hurried into the kitchen.

The Marchesa went to her room, and flung herself upon her bed, almost frantic from despair. She saw how entirely she had committed herself in displaying to Filippo her ignorance of her husband's absence from home, that absence which seemed to destroy her last hope of saving her child-and she dreaded lest, in every step she took, and in every word she uttered, she should expose her forgetfulness of recent occurrences, and