with tearful eyes she bade Massi farewell, she gave him messages of
remembrance to Wolf; and the violinist, no less agitated than herself,
promised to deliver them. He was hopefully anticipating a cheerful
evening of life in the midst of his family. Existence had promised
Barbara higher things, but she seemed to have found the power to be
content. At least he had heard no complaint from her lips, and her
husband had often told him of the happiness which he had obtained through
her in marriage. So he could leave her without anxiety; but she, even in
the hour of parting, was too proud to offer him a glimpse of her desolate
life, whose fairest ornaments were memories.

When he left her the young wife felt still poorer than before, and during
the sleepless night which in imagination she had spent with her imperial
child in the Dubois house, and in the days of splendour and misery at
Ratisbon, she determined to clasp once more the hand of her departing
friend when he set out with the Infant Philip's train.

Although it was to start early in the morning, she was in the square in
ample time, partly because she hoped to see the Emperor in the distance.

The throng that followed Philip really did resemble an army.

Barbara had already often seen the short, slender 'Infant', with his
well-formed, fair head and light, pointed beard, who held himself so
stiffly erect, and carried his head as high as if he considered no one
over whom his glance wandered worthy of so great an honour.

It seemed strange to her, too, how well this man, naturally so
insignificant in person, succeeded in giving his small figure the
appearance of majestic dignity. But how totally unlike him his father