a while with pity for her own mental torment. At last she threw back her
beautiful head, and the manner of that action was instinct with
insubordination.

"It grieves me to harass your Highness in such a season," she assured
him, "but I must beg your indulgence. These things may be as you say.
Your plans may be the noblest that were ever conceived, since to their
consummation would be entailed the sacrifice of your own flesh and blood
--in the person of your niece. But I will have no part in them. It may
be that I lack a like nobility of soul; it may be that I am all unworthy
of the high station to which I was born, through no fault of my own. And
so, my lord," she ended, her voice, her face, her gesture, all imparting
an irrevocable finality to her words, "I will not wed this Duke of
Babbiano--no, not to cement alliances with a hundred duchies."

"Valentina!" he exclaimed, roused out of his wonted calm. "Do you forget
that you are my niece?"

"Since you appear to have forgotten it."

"These woman's whims----" he began, when she interrupted him.

"Perhaps they will serve to remind you that I am a woman, and perhaps if
you remember that, you may consider how very natural it is that, being a
woman, I should refuse to wed for--for political ends."

"To your chamber," he commanded, now thoroughly aroused. "And on your
knees beg Heaven's grace to help you to see your duty, since no words of
mine prevail."