In the stately castle of Chartres, sat the lovely Countess Adela apparently busy with embroidery, in that age almost the only home occupation of females. A shade of sadness was upon her brow, and an expression of anxious care in-dicated the mother's sympathy with the suffering child, that an attendant was vainly striving to soothe. " Draw the couch of the little William to my side, The-rese," said the countess, observing the tears in the girl's eyes. " Thou hast a tiresome task. Eemove these frames," continued she to the maidens, "and go ye all to disport awhile in the pleasance, I will watch my boy's slumbers." The feeble child stretched his hands to his mother, and laying his head upon her breast sank quietly to sleep. " Poor sufl'ering one," soliloquized Adela, " thou knowest naught but thy mother's love. Already thy younger broth-ers despise thy imbecility—the courtiers regard thee with indifference—and the very menials flout thee. No ducal coronet, or kingly crown will grace the head of my first-born." The sound of heavy steps in the corridor disturbed the slumberer. He lifted his head, moaned heavily, and re-garded with a vacant stare the warrior who entered. " Robert, my beloved brother 1" exclaimed the countess, the joy of former times flitting across her countenance. With a moody and dissatisfied air the duke returned the frank greeting of his sister, and throwing himself upon a seat by her side, said in a tone of ill-concealed impatience, " Adela, I have come to thee, for the prudent counsel of our mother dwells with thee. I am robbed of my rights and stripped of my heritage." " Art thou not Duke of Normandy," inquired his sister with surprise. "Aye, verily. Our father left me the duchy with a blessing that sounded marvellously like a curse. 'The dukedom of Normandy,' said he, 'I granted unto my son Robert, and having received the homage of his baronage, that honor given cannot be revoked : yet he is a foolish, proud knave, and will be punished with cruel fortune.' " ADELA. 67