ld the
pine which grows from them?

Nothing, except to bear patiently whatever he inflicted upon her.

This, however, seemed to her so impossible and painful, so humiliating
and shocking, that she sprang from her bed and for a long time paced
with bare feet the sleeping-room, which was but dimly lighted by the
lamp. Yet all her thoughts and pondering were futile, and when she lay
down again she slept until mass.

By daylight she found that she had regarded matters in far too dark a
light. True, Charles probably no longer loved her as ardently as before,
yet she need scarcely fear the worst at present. But the bare thought
of having so soon lost the power to bind him to her aroused a storm of
feeling in her passionate soul, and when it subsided bitter thoughts
followed, and a series of plans which, on closer examination, proved
impracticable.

The day dragged slowly along.

During the ride in the country she was so depressed and downcast that
her companions asked what troubled her.

The lonely evening seemed endless. A short letter from her father, which
informed her that he had not expected too much of himself, and was in
good health, she cast aside after reading. During the night the feeling
of unhappiness and apprehension increased. But the next morning the sun
shone brightly into her windows, and after mass a messenger from the
Golden Cross announced that Duke Maurice of Saxony had arrived, and in
the afternoon his Majesty wished to see her and hear her sing.

This news cheered her wonderfully; but while Fran Lerch was dressing her
she, too, missed the star, and it seemed to Barbara that with it she had
lost a portion of her charm.

In going out, the marquise met her in the corridor, but Barbara passed
without returning her greeting.

When she arrived, the company had assembled in the chapel. The Duke of
Saxony sat between the Emperor and Granvelle.

What a handsome, knightly man this Maurice was! A prince from head to
foot, young, and yet, while talking with the Emperor and Granvelle,
grave and self-possessed as if he felt himself their peer.

And what fire glowed in his bright glance whenever it rested upon her!

In the chase and over the wine-cup this brave soldier and subtle
statesman was said scarcely to have his equal. Many tales of his
successes with fair women had been told her. He pleased her, too, in
spite of the bold, free manner in which he gazed at her, and which she
would not have tolerat