d yield to the
prayer that had prompted the gift.

Among all the elaborate gift-pieces that had come from the workshops of
Murano, but one had as yet approached this, and it had been sent with
the homage of the Senate, by a retiring ambassador of "His Most
Christian Majesty," to the Queen of France, and it bore, from Titian's
hand, the portrait of her royal husband. This goblet, then, must surpass
that one in magnificence, for it was the Veronese's opportunity; and in
his soul, genial as it was, some sense of rivalry, born of Titian's
assumption of the highest place in Venetian art, would last forever, in
spite of the great master's manifest affection. The suggestion of the
pearls--an added touch--was indeed due to Paolo Cagliari's over-weening
sumptuousness, and the eager young lover was scarcely more anxious for
the completion of this gem, upon which his hope depended, than was the
great artist who already had all Venice at his feet.

"I shall need no sitting," the Veronese had said, when they were
planning for the work. "My picture is nearly completed, and it will
suffice. Nay, ask her not, my Marco; she is a devote--she will not
understand."

Marcantonio flushed like a boy. He knew it would be difficult to obtain
her consent, and for that very reason he must win it, for he was a true
knight.

"How shall I win my lady's favor," he cried hotly, "if I peril it by
lack of chivalry! There is no prouder maiden among the donne nobile on
the Canal Grande."

"_Altro! Altro_!" said the master quietly. "She also shall look down
from the balconies in the palazzo Giustiniani."

But when the young patrician told her glowingly of his wish to give his
mother, on his great day, the most beautiful gift in all the world, it
was hard to make her yield.

"It is not fitting," she answered quite simply.

"Yes, yes, Marina--since I love thee!"

"Ah, no; it is only sad." Her eyes filled with tears and she moved away,
so that he could not touch her hand.

"Trust me, Marina! The Veronese knows the world, and he says it is well.
It is this that shall win the consent of my mother, and she will conquer
my father. And in the Gran' Consiglio----"

He turned his eyes suddenly away from Marina lest she should trace the
faintest flicker of a doubt within them, as the vision rose before him
of that imperious body, so relentless in its decrees, so tenacious in
its traditions, so positive in its autocracy; but the threatened
invincibility