She had found her sister's hand behind hers and had thrust the letter
into the fingers that closed quickly upon it. Then she laughed a little,
almost gaily. "Do you think that a score of sour old duennas could teach
me to forget the man I love, or could prevent me from sending him a
message every day if I chose? Do you think you could hinder Don John of
Austria, who came back an hour ago from his victory the idol of all
Spain, the favourite of the people--brave, young, powerful, rich,
popular, beloved far more than the King himself, from seeing me every
day if he chose, so long as he were not away in war? And then--I will
ask you something more--do you think that father, or mother, or king, or
law, or country has power to will away the love of a woman who loves
with all her heart and soul and strength? Then answer me and tell me
what you have determined to do with me, and I will tell you my
determination, too, for I have one of my own, and shall abide by it,
come what may, and whatsoever you may do!"

She paused, for she had heard Inez softly close the door as she went
out. The letter at least was safe, and if it were humanly possible, Inez
would find a means of delivering it; for she had all that strange
ingenuity of the blind in escaping observation which it seems impossible
that they should possess, but of which every one who has been much with
them is fully aware. Mendoza had seen Inez go out, and was glad that she
was gone, for her blind face sometimes disturbed him when he wished to
assert his authority.

"Yes," he said, "I will tell you what I mean to do, and it is the only
thing left to me, for you have given me no choice. You are disobedient
and unruly, you have lost what little respect you ever had--or
showed--for me. But that is not all. Men have had unruly daughters
before, and yet have married them well, and to men who in the end have