"How to thy 'displeasure'? What 'rights'?"
"His right of Lord of the fiefs—for our lands are gifts of the Crown—to choose a husband for his dama di maridaggio who suiteth not her fancy."
"Nay, verily, Ecciva, he is a noble gentleman—he would not press thee too hard, thou wouldst protest."
"Aye, I should protest—I would protest. And so he hath no scheme to marry me with the miserable Neapolitan noble who held our lands while we were dispossessed, I care not! But it were good to know what fancy might seize him—our charming Janus! For he is a man of many moods and some favorite of the Soldan may next be friend to him!"
The evening breezes were slowly waking over the torrid land, bringing needed refreshment after the long sultriness of the day: the air was laden with delicious odors—fragrance of rose and jessamine and orange blooms; birds of brilliant plumage called to each other in jubilant notes as they flitted hither and thither among the pomegranate blossoms which burned, like tongues of flame, among the thickets of green.
Back through the long alleys of wonderful trees where many a clinging vine trailed masses of riotous color, it was pleasant to hear mirthful voices ringing freely after the dull day's repression, or echoing back more faintly from adventurous wanderers in the farther shrubberies. This garden of delights which Janus had made for his bride, environing this palace of Potamia, was alive with charm—rippling with stolen streams, more costly than molten silver at the summer's height, which kept it in such vesture of luxuriant bloom as only a monarch might command.
But Eloisà sped quickly up from terrace to terrace, scarcely pausing to answer the persiflage with which her companion sought to detain her; she was overwrought and unhappy, in spite of herself; she had no faith in the vision of Ecciva; she felt hurt and outraged by her coldness, and she was hastening back for one look in the true and noble face of the Lady of the Bernardini, who mothered all these young Venetian maids of honor in the court of Caterina, craving to express her deep loyalty to the Queen herself by some immediate act of silent homage.
Only the Lady of the Bernardini and Margherita de Iblin were with Caterina in the loggia, just without the palace, as Eloisà came flying up the steps and falling on her knees covered the young Queen's hand with passionate kisses.
"What is it, carina mia?" Caterina asked in alarm; "thou bringest news? There is a courier?"
"Niente—niente, Serenissima—only to be near the one I love!" the girl cried fervently; and then grew suddenly quiet, in full content after this needed avowal.