estlessly in a chair,
and there was a mischievous and dancing light of pleasure in his eye,
that made the Duke doubly grave. The Duke, after some discourse of other
matters, made a pause; and then, saying that it was the last time that
he should take the privilege of guardianship--to offer advice unless it
were sought--said: "And now, Renatus, you know that I love you as a dear
son; and I would have you remember that all these things are but shows,
and that there sits behind them a grave and holy presence of duty; these
pomps are but the signs that you are truly the Prince of this land; and
you must use your power well, and to God's glory; for it is He that
makes us to be what we are, and truly calls us thereto." Renatus heard
him with a sort of courteous impatience, and then, with a smile, said:
"Yes, dear uncle, I know it; but the shows are very brave; and you will
forgive me if my head is full of them just now. Presently, when the
pageants are all over, I shall settle down to be a sober prince enough.
I think you do not trust me wholly in the matter--but I would not seem
ungrateful," he added rather hastily, seeing the gravity in the Duke's
face--"for indeed you have been as a true father to me."

The Duke said no more at that time, for he cared not to give untimely
advice, and a moment after, a bell began to toll in the silence, and the
chaplain came habited to conduct the Prince to his chapel. So they went
the three of them together.

It was dark and still within the church; in front of the altar-steps
were set a faldstool and a chair, where the Duke might pray, or sit if
he were weary; two tall wax lights stood beside, and lit up the crimson
cloth and the gold fringes, so that it seemed like a rare flower
blossoming in the dark. A single light, in a silver lamp hung by a
silver chain, burnt before the altar; all else was dim; but they could
see the dark stalls of the choir, with their carven canopies, over which
hung the banners of old knights, that moved softly to and fro; beyond
were the pillars of the aisles, glimmering faintly in a row. The roof
and windows were dark, save where here and there a rib of stone or a
tracery stood out very rich and dim. All about there was a kind of holy
smell, of wood and carven stone and incense-smoke.

The chaplain knelt beneath the altar; and the Prince knelt down at the
faldstool, the Duke beside him on the floor. And just as the old bell of
the castle tolled the hour, and