"Manfred cannot support the sight of his own family. He thinks you
less disordered than we are, and dreads the shock of my grief.
Console him, dear Isabella, and tell him I will smother my own
anguish rather than add to his."

As it was now evening the servant who conducted Isabella bore a
torch before her. When they came to Manfred, who was walking
impatiently about the gallery, he started, and said hastily -

"Take away that light, and begone."

Then shutting the door impetuously, he flung himself upon a bench
against the wall, and bade Isabella sit by him. She obeyed
trembling.

"I sent for you, Lady," said he--and then stopped under great
appearance of confusion.

"My Lord!"

"Yes, I sent for you on a matter of great moment," resumed he.
"Dry your tears, young Lady--you have lost your bridegroom. Yes,
cruel fate! and I have lost the hopes of my race! But Conrad was
not worthy of your beauty."

"How, my Lord!" said Isabella; "sure you do not suspect me of not
feeling the concern I ought: my duty and affection would have
always--"

"Think no more of him," interrupted Manfred; "he was a sickly, puny