"His wife!" exclaimed Mendoza, with a savage sneer. "His wife--to be
married to-day and cast off to-morrow by a turn of the pen and the
twisting of a word that would prove your marriage void, in order that
Don John may be made the husband of some royal widowed lady, like Queen
Mary of the Scots! His wife!" He laughed bitterly.

"You have an exalted opinion of your King, my father, since you suppose
that he would permit such deeds in Spain!"

Dolores had drawn herself up to her full height as she spoke, and she
remained motionless as she awaited the answer to what she had said. It
was long in coming, though Mendoza's dark eyes met hers unflinchingly,
and his lips moved more than once as if he were about to speak. She had
struck a blow that was hard to parry, and she knew it. Inez stood beside
her, silent and breathing hard as she listened.

"You think that I have nothing to say," he began at last, and his tone
had changed and was more calm. "You are right, perhaps. What should I
say to you, since you have lost all sense of shame and all thought of
respect or obedience? Do you expect that I shall argue with you, and try
to convince you that I am right, instead of forcing you to respect me
and yourself? Thank Heaven, I have never yet questioned my King's
thoughts, nor his motives, nor his supreme right to do whatsoever may be
for the honour and glory of Spain. My life is his, and all I have is
his, to do with it all as he pleases, by grace of his divine right. That
is my creed and my law--and if I have failed to bring you up in the same
belief, I have committed a great sin, and it will be counted against me
hereafter, though I have done what I could, to the best of my
knowledge."