The Princess Valeria interposed. 'By your leave, highness; does my vote count for anything in this matter?'
'Assuredly, madonna. Your own and your brother's.'
'Then, Lord Duke, my vote, indeed my prayer, is that my Lord of Carmagnola be given the command.'
The Duchess raised her long eyes to look at her in wonder.
Bellarion sat inscrutable.
The request wounded without surprising him. He knew her unconquerable mistrust of him. He had hoped in the end which was now approaching to prove to her its cruel injustice. But if occasion for that were denied him, it would be no great matter. What signified was that her own aims should be accomplished, and, after all, they were not beyond the strength and skill of Carmagnola, who had his talents as a leader when all was said.
The Duke's lack-lustre eyes were steadily upon Valeria. He spoke after a pause.
'Almost you imply a doubt of the Prince of Valsassina's capacity.'
'Not of his capacity. Oh, not of that!'
'Of what, then?'