embering the proverb, that "absence makes the heart grow
fonder."

He had already been away two whole days, and was growing extremely
anxious at not having heard from Madame de Mussidan, when one evening,
as he was returning from a late inspection of his stud, he was informed
that there was a man waiting to see him. The man was a poor old fellow
belonging to the place, who eked out a wretched subsistence by begging,
and executing occasional commissions.

"Do you want me?" asked the Duke.

With a sly look, the man drew from his pocket a letter.

"This is for you," muttered he.

"All right; give it to me, then."

"I was told to give it to you only in private."

"Never mind that; hand it over."

"Well, if I must, I must."

Norbert's sole thought was that this letter must have come from Diana,
and throwing the man a coin, hurried to a spot where it was light enough
to read the missive. He did not, however, recognize Diana's firm, bold
hand on the envelope.

"Who the devil can this be from?" thought Norbert, as he tore open
the outer covering. The paper within was soiled and greasy, and the
handwriting was of the vilest description, it was full of bad spelling,
and ran thus:--

"Sir,--

"I hardly dare tell you the truth, and yet my conscience will give me
no relief until I do so. I can no longer bear to see a gentleman such as
you are deceived by a woman who has no heart or honorable feeling. Your
wife is unfaithful to you, and will soon make you a laughing stock to
all. You may trust to this being true, for I am a respectable woman,
and you can easily find out if I am lying to you. Hide yourself this
evening, so that you may command a view of the side-door in the wall
of your garden, and between half-past ten and eleven you will see your
wife's lover enter. It is a long time since he has been furnished with
a key. The hour for the meeting has been judiciously fixed, for all the
servants will be out; but I implore you not to be violent, for I would
not do your wife any harm, but I feel that you ought to be warned.

"From one

"WHO KNOWS."

Norbert ran through the contents of this infamous anonymous letter in an
instant. The blood surged madly through his brain, and he uttered a howl
of fury. His servants ran in to see what was the matter.

"Where is the fellow who brought this letter?" said he. "Run after him
and bring him back to me."

In a few minutes the sturdy grooms made their appearance, pushin