Very soon, however, the Duchess heard the Duke's evil words concerning
the affair, and, knowing his temper, she not only gave the maiden leave,
but advised her to retire into a convent until the storm was over. This
she did as secretly as she could, yet not so stealthily but that the
Duke was advised of it. Thereupon, with pretended cheerfulness of
countenance, he asked his wife where the maiden was, and she, believing
him to be well aware of the truth, confessed it to him. He feigned to
be vexed thereat, saying that the girl had no need to behave in that
fashion, and that for his part he desired her no harm. And he requested
his wife to cause her to come back again, since it was by no means well
to have such matters noised abroad.

The Duchess replied that, if the poor girl was so unfortunate as to have
lost his favour, it were better for a time that she should not come
into his presence; however, he would not hearken to her reasonings, but
commanded her to bid the maiden return.

The Duchess failed not to make the Duke's will known to the maiden; but
the latter, who could not but feel afraid, entreated her mistress that
she might not be compelled to run this risk, saying that she knew the
Duke was not so ready to forgive her as he feigned to be. Nevertheless,
the Duchess assured her that she should take no hurt, and pledged her
own life and honour for her safety.

The girl, who well knew that her mistress loved her, and would not
lightly deceive her, trusted in her promise, believing that the Duke
would never break a pledge when his wife's honour was its warranty. And
accordingly she returned to the Duchess.