Wolf's representations and imploring entreaties remained as futile as
those of Sister Hyacinthe and the abbesses of the Clare Sisters and the
Convent of the Holy Cross, who had sought her by the confessor's wish.
None of these pious women, except her nurse, knew the hope she cherished.
They saw in her only the Emperor's discarded love; yet as such it seemed
to them that Barbara was bidden to turn her back upon the world, which
had nothing similar to offer her, in order, as the Saviour's bride, to
seek a new and loftier happiness.

But Barbara's vivacious temperament shrank from their summons as from the
tomb or the dungeon and, with all due reverence, she said so to the
kindly nuns.

She desired no new happiness, nay, she could not imagine that she would
ever again find joy in anything save the heavenly gift which she expected
with increasing fear, and yet glad hope. Yet they wished to deprive her
of this exquisite treasure, this peerless comfort for the soul! But she
had learned how to defend herself, and they should never succeed in
accomplishing this shameful purpose. She would keep her child, though it
increased the Emperor's resentment to the highest pitch, and deprived her
of every expectation of his care.

Eagerly as Wolf praised Quijada's noble nature, she commanded him to
assure the Castilian, whose messenger he honestly confessed himself to
be, that she would die rather than yield to the Emperor's demands.

When the time at last came to part from Wolf also, and he pressed his
lips to her hand, she felt that she could rely upon him, no matter how
sad her future life might be. He added many another kind and friendly
word; then, in an outburst of painful emotion, cried: "If only you had