While speaking, she passed her hand across her brow and, as though seized
with shame for her frank confession, exclaimed: "But we will let this
subject drop. Only you must know one thing more. I shall never be
wholly impoverished. What the past gave me was too rich and great; what
I expect from the future is too precious for that. It is growing up in
distant Spain and, if Heaven accepted the great sacrifice which I once
made for the boy whom you call Geronimo, if he receives what I besought
for him at that time and on every returning day, then, Wolf, I shall bear
the burden of my woe like a light garland of rose leaves. Nay, more.
Charles will regain his youth sooner than--be it in love or hate--he will
ever forget me. This child guarantees that. It is and will always
remain a bridge between us. He, too, can not forget the son, and if he
does----"

"No, Barbara, no," interrupted Wolf, carried away by her passionate
warmth. "The Emperor Charles is constantly thinking of his fair-haired
boy. No one has told me so; but if he seeks in Spain the rest for which
he longs, the thought of Geronimo--I am sure of that--is not the least
powerful cause which draws him thither."

"Do you really think so?" asked Barbara with feverish anxiety.

"Yes," he answered firmly. "This very morning he commanded Don Luis to
take the child from Leganes to Villagarcia and commit the education of
Geronimo to his wife, that he may find him what he expects and desires."

Here he paused, and Barbara inquired uneasily, "And did he say nothing of
Geronimo's mother--of me?"

Wolf shook his head with silent compassion, and then reluctantly