bara 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 tolerated in any one else.

After she had finished the last song, the duke expressed his appreciation
in gay, flattering words, at the same time complimenting her beauty.

There had been something remarkably winning in his compliments; but when
she pleased her imperial lover, the acknowledgment was very different.
Then there was no mere praise clad in the form of enthusiastic homage,
but in addition always acute remarks. With the recognition blended
opinions which revealed the true connoisseur.

This Maurice was certainly wise and brave, and, moreover, far handsomer
than his imperial master; but what illumined Charles's prominent brow and
brilliant eyes she had never beheld in any one else. To him, to him alone
her heart belonged, worthy of esteem as the duke, who was so much his
junior, appeared.

While taking leave the Saxon held her hand in his for a time and, as she
permitted it, she met a glance from her lover which warned her to be ware
of incautious familiarity with this breaker of hearts.

Barbara felt as if a sudden brightness had filled her soul, and on her
way home the seed which that look had cast into it began to put forth
vigorous shoots.

The ardent young Saxon duke would have been a dangerous rival for any
one, even the handsomest and most powerful of men. Suppose that she
should profit by the wish he showed so plainly, and through jealousy bind
the man whom she loved anew and more firmly than ever?

She probably admitted to herself that in doing so she would incur a great
risk, but it seemed easier to lose her greatest treasure entirely than
only to half possess it; and wh