ecause he
had murdered his children.

Though Lord Walter saw this, he wished to try his wife once more. He
knew that he could send away his wife and marry another if he got a
letter from the Pope to say that he might. He sent a messenger to
Rome, where the Pope lived. This messenger was told to bring back a
letter, not from the Pope, but as like one of his as possible.

The letter came. It said that because of the anger of Lord Walter's
people at the lowly birth of his wife Griselda, the Marquis might send
her away and marry another.

The news of the letter spread throughout the land. Every one believed
that it had really come from the Pope.

Griselda's heart was very sore when she heard of this letter. But she
went on quietly with each day's work. She did not even speak of the
letter to her husband.

At last Lord Walter spoke before all his court, and with no knightly
gentleness.

"Griselda," he said, "there is no freedom in the life of one who
rules. I may not act after my own wish as any laborer on my land may
do. As thou knowest, my people hate thy presence, and demand of me
that I wed another. The Pope's letter thou hast heard. Return then,
swiftly and without complaint, to thy father's cottage, for already my
bride cometh hither."

"My Lord, it is no new thought to me, that I am unworthy to be thy
servant--far more unworthy to be thy wife. In this great house of
which thou didst make me queen, I have not acted as mistress, but only
as lowly handmaid to thee. For these years of thy kindness, I thank
thee. Gladly do I go to my father's house. There he tended me when I
was but a child. Now I will stay with him till death enters the
cottage door. To thee and to thy bride be joy. To her I willingly
yield the place where I have been so happy. Since thou, who once wert
all my joy, wilt have me go, I go!"

Lord Walter turned away in sadness. He could scarcely speak for pity,
but he held to his purpose.

Then Griselda drew her wedding-ring from her finger, and laid it down.
Beside it she put the gems that Lord Walter had given her. Her
beautiful robes she laid aside. In the simplest gown she could find,
and with head and feet all bare, Griselda went down through the olive
trees towards her father's house.

Many of Lord Walter's people followed her, weeping and bewailing the
fickleness of fortune. Griselda did not turn to them, nor speak, nor
weep. She quietly went on her way.

When the tidings reached her f