s so soon to be mine. I was at the gates of Pesaro before matins, and
within the Palazzo Sforza ere its inmates had broken their fast.

The Lord Filippo welcomed me with a certain effusion, chiding me for my
long absence and the ingratitude it had seemed to indicate, and never
dreaming by what summons I was brought back.

"You are well-returned," he told me in conclusion. "We shall need you
soon, to write an epithalamium."

"You are to be wed, Magnificent?" quoth I at last, at which he laughed
consumedly.

"Nay, we shall need the song for my sister's nuptials. She is to wed the
Lord Ignacio Borgia, before Christmas."

"A lofty theme," I answered with humility, "and one that may well demand
resources nobler than those of my poor pen."

"Then get you to work at once upon it. I will have your chamber
prepared."

He sent for his seneschal, a person--like most Of the servants at the
Palace--strange to me, and he gave orders that I should be sumptuously
lodged. He was grown more splendid than ever in the prosperity that
seemed to surround him here at Pesaro, in this Palace that had undergone
such changes and been so enriched during the past two years as to go
near defying recognition.

When the seneschal had shown me to the quarters he had set apart for me,
I made bold to make inquiries concerning Madonna Paola.

"She is in the garden, Illustrious," answered the seneschal, deeming
me, no doubt, a great lord, from the respect which Filippo had indicated
should be shown me. "Madonna has the wisdom to seek the little sunshine
the year still holds. Winter will be soon upon us."

I agreed with the old man, and dismissed him. So soon as he was gone, I
quitted my chamber, and all dust staineded as I was I made my way down
to the garden. A turn in one of the boxwood-bordered alleys brought me
suddenly face to face with Madonna Paola.

A moment we stood looking at each other, my heart swelling within me
until I thought that it must burst. Then I advanced a step and sank on
one knee before her.

"You sent for me, Madonna. I am here." There was a pause, and when
presently I looked up into her blessed face I saw a smile of infinite
sorrow on her lips, blending oddly with the gladness that shone from her
sweet eyes.

"You faithful one," she murmured at last. "Dear Lazzaro, I did not look
for you so soon."

"Within an hour of your messenger's arrival I was in the saddle, nor did
I pause until I had reached the gates of Pe