even the sternest old general, had
been overwhelmed by deep emotion, and the spacious hall echoed with the
sobs and groans of graybeards, middle-aged men and youths, warriors and
statesmen.

Here the young man's voice failed and, weeping, with unfeigned emotion
he covered his agitated face with his handkerchief.

When he regained his composure he saw, with a shade of disappointment,
that Barbara's eyes had remained dry during the description of an event
in which he himself and so many stronger men had shed burning tears.

Yet, when Barbara was again alone she could not drive from her mind the
image of her broken-down, weeping lover. Doubtless she often felt moved
to think of him with deep pity; but she soon remembered the conversation
to which she had listened in the apartments of the Bishop of Arras, and
her belief in the genuineness of those tears vanished.

CHAPTER XV.

The winter came and passed. Instead of leaving the Netherlands, the
Emperor Charles remained nearly a year in Brussels. He lived in a modest
house in Lion Street and, although he had resigned the sovereignty,
nothing was done in the domain of politics to which he had not given his
assent.

Barbara, more domestic than ever before, was leading a dream life, in
which she dwelt more with her beloved dead and her child in Spain than
with her family at home. She thought of the boy's father sometimes with
bitter resentment, sometimes with quiet pity. Outward circumstances
rendered it easier for her to conceal these feelings, for Pyramus
attributed the melancholy mood which sometimes overpowered her to grief
for her father.

Her husband left the settlement of the business connected with her
inheritance solely to her. There were many letters to be written and, as
she had become unfamiliar with this art, Hannibal faithfully aided her.

Dr. Hiltner, of Ratisbon, to whom, in spite of his heretical belief, she
intrusted the legal business of the estate, acted wisely and promptly in
her behalf. Thus the sale of the house which she had purchased for
the dead man, and the disposal of her father's share in the Blomberg
business, brought her far more money than she had expected.

It seemed as though Fate desired to compensate her by outward prosperity
for the secret sorrow which, in spite of her husband's affectionate
solicitude and the thriving growth of her two boys, she could not shake
off.

In one respect she regarded the money which this winter b