hty, inaccessible, tactless as he was, unpopular, as he
was, too, at least in Lipara and the southern part of the empire. He
knew it: beneath that rigid inaccessibility she concealed her terror,
terror when she sat in an open carriage, at the theatre, at ceremonial
functions, or in church, or even at visits to charitable institutions.
This terror had killed within her all her great love for humanity and
had morbidly concentrated her soul, which was inclined by nature to take
a wider outlook, upon love for that small circle of theirs. And beneath
this terror hid her acquiescence, her expectation of the catastrophe,
the upheaval in which she and hers were to perish!...

He was their son, the heir to their throne: whence did he derive his
impotent hesitation, which his father did not possess, and his love for
their people, which his mother no longer possessed? His ancestors he
knew only by what history had taught him: in the earlier middle-ages,
barbarian, cruel; later, displaying a refined sensuality; one monarch, a
weakling, ruled entirely by favourites, a _roi-faineant_, under whom the
empire had fallen a prey to intestinal divisions and foreign greed;
afterwards, more civilized, a revival of strength, a reaction of
progress after decline, followed by the glory and greatness of the
empire to the present day.... To the present day: to him came this
inheritance of greatness and glory. How would he handle it, how would he
in his turn transmit it to his son?

Then he felt himself so small, so timid that he could have run away
somewhither, away from the gaping eyes of his future obligations....

6

The luncheon had all the intimacy of a most charming _tete-a-tete_,
served in the small dining-room, with only the steward waiting at table.
The duchess enquired very sympathetically how Othomar was; the prince
already felt really rested, showed a good appetite, was gay and
talkative, praised the cook and the famous lycilian wine. When the
duchess after luncheon proposed to him to go for a small excursion in
the neighbourhood, he thought it an excellent idea. He himself wished to
ride--he knew that the duchess was an excellent horsewoman--but Alexa
dissuaded him, laughingly, said that she was afraid of General Ducardi,
who had recommended the prince to rest, and thought that a little drive
in an open carriage would be less tiring. She had remembered betimes
that a riding-habit made her look old and heavy; and she was very g