he obstinacy," observed the Castilian.

"When she wheeled her horse to escape you?" asked the Queen.

"But there she was perfectly right. What a heedless, inconsiderate
masculine idea, to usher a woman directly from a horseback ride into a
company of gentlemen to sing before the Emperor! As to the vanity, I do
not find much fault with that. It would be far worse if she lacked it.
One can not imagine a genuine woman without it. It has been called pride
in charms which we do not possess, but it also serves to place actual
charms in a brighter light, and that I expect from this fair one. If she
knows how to avoid extravagance, it will willingly be indulged. But her
ambition, Luis; perils may arise from that. If it begins to stir too
covetously, remember your duty as watcher--sound the horn and set the
packs upon her."

"For the sake of our sovereign lord, I will not fail," replied Quijada.
"So far as she herself is concerned, she is one of those women whose
beauty I acknowledge, but to whom I am indifferent. More modest manners
please me better."

"You are thinking of Dona Magdalena de Ulloa," observed the Queen, "you
poor loyal widower, while the loveliest of wives still lives. Certainly
this German bears so little resemblance to her----"

"That I most humbly entreat your Majesty," interposed Quijada with
haughty decision, "not to compare these two women, even by way of
contrast."

"B-r-r!" said the regent, extending her hands toward him as if to
repel an assault. "Yet I like you in this mood, Luis. You are a true
Castilian! So we will leave Dona Magdalena in her Villagarcia, and
only permit myself to admire the self-sacrifice of a woman who grants
a husband like you so long a leave of absence. As to the Ratisbon
maiden----"

"I should be very glad to know," Quijada began, this time in a
submissive tone, "by what sign your Majesty's penetration discovered
this young creature's ambition."

"That is soon told," replied the regent kindly. "She specially mentioned
her distinguished relatives in the city and in Landshut, and when
I advised her to show due respect to the marquise, who, in spite of
everything, is a woman of high rank and certainly an old lady, before
whose gray hairs Scripture commands us to rise, something hovered around
her lips--they are ripe for kisses--something which it is not easy to
find exactly the right words to describe: a blending of repugnance,
self-assertion, and resistance. She suffered