redound to the advantage of their people." A toss of her auburn head was
Valentina's interpolation, but her uncle continued relentlessly in his
cold, formal tones--such tones as those in which he might have addressed
an assembly of his captains:

"In the present instance we are threatened--Babbiano and Urbino--by a
common foe. And whilst divided, neither of us could withstand him,
united, we shall combine to his overthrow. Therefore does this alliance
become necessary--imperative."

I do not apprehend the necessity," she answered, in a voice that breathed
defiance. "If such an alliance as you speak of is desirable, why may it
not be made a purely political one--such a one, for instance, as now
binds Perugia and Camerino to you? What need to bring me into question?"

"A little knowledge of history would afford you an answer. Such
political alliances are daily made, and daily broken when more profit
offers in another quarter. But cemented by marriage, the tie, whilst
continuing political, becomes also one of blood. In the case of Urbino
and Babbiano it enters also into consideration that I have no son. It
might well be, Valentina," he pursued, with a calculating coldness that
revolted her, "that a son of yours would yet more strongly link the two
duchies. In time both might become united under him into one great power
that might vie successfully with any in Italy. Now leave me, child. As
you see, I am suffering, and when it is thus with me, and this evil
tyrant has me in its clutches, I prefer to be alone."

There was a pause, and whilst his eyes were upon hers, hers were upon the
ground in avoidance of his glance. A frown marred her white brow, her
lips were set and her hands clenched. Pity for his physical ills fought