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"The Count," she would say to herself, "is the best man in the world, and is kinder to me than any one else has ever been; but he is old and infirm, and when he speaks of love, it seems to me to be out of place. I am very fond of him, but if he had been young─as young, for instance, as Amador─I should be able, I think, better to understand the love of which he tells me so much."

The person to whom Clarice alluded was a young minstrel, who had arrived but a short time at the castle, recommended to the Count as one ofthe best poets and singers of his age to be found in the country.

He had so much genius, and exerted himself so zealously to please both the Count and Countess, that they were quite charmed with him, and every evening after the repast in the great hall, they ordered him to repair with them to an arbour of flowers in a garden, where they listened to his songs and recitations for hours together. The young Countess told her husband that she now began to understand the passion, the mysteries of which he had so laboured to explain, and the Count was gratified to find that she listened with extreme attention, and loaded him with thanks for procuring her so great a pleasure.

One evening as they were sitting in their arbour, the old knight was suddenly taken ill, and, being conveyed to his chamber, grew rapidly worse, till at length it became evident that his end was approaching. In effect, he died that night in the arms of his afflicted wife, and Clarice found herself a widow before she had attained the age of twenty, and the possessor of all her late husband's wealth.

Her grief at his loss was very great; she missed him at every turn; she knew not how to manage her household or her domains without him, for his kind care had spared her every trouble; she no longer heard his encouraging voice, or replied to his expressions of tenderness, and she wept ceaselessly at her bereavement.

She was in the height of her grief, when one evening─it was now winter─the horn of the castle was blown, and the steward came to inform her that a knight had arrived, who proclaimed himself the cousin of her late lord, and requested an audience of her. She desired that he should be admitted, and with some trepidation, for she had been little accustomed to receive strangers, she saw him enter her presence.

He was a very tall, graceful person, and wore a suit of armour of polished steel, covered with ornaments of bright silver. His plume was white, and a glittering scarf bound his breast. He approached her with great humility, and craved her pardon for his intrusion; but recounted that, being but lately returned from foreign wars, he was not aware of his cousin's death till he arrived at the castle; that it was to him his visit was intended, and he merely now ventured to pay his respects to the widow of a man he had highly esteemed.

Clarice received him very graciously, and requested him to make some stay in her castle, regretting her want of ability to entertain him, but offering her people as his attendants in whatever sports of hunting or hawking he might choose to engage.

He frankly accepted her offer, and after a little time became quite at home at the castle; so much so, indeed, that the young mistress began to feel surprised that he did not name a time for the termination of his visit; however, his society was agreeable, and he evidently wished to please and soothe her sorrows. Wishing to afford him pleasure, as her guest, she bethought herself of the young minstrel