"There," she said, "take these for your poor; I offer them willingly, and I will give up everything that I usually wear if you will only give me one friendly look to repay me." The inexperienced boy stood speechless; was she in earnest? Was it true that she was so submissive to his words, so self-sacrificing, so ready to repent? And he involuntarily raised his eyes and looked at her--a wide, questioning, admiring gaze. She caught his glance and fixed it with a magic spell, entangling him in a net, woven as it were of the radiant glances of her own eyes.
"Oh!" she sighed softly, and her voice fell caressingly on his ear like the faint whisper of the limes under the eastern turret-window, "You see, you too can smile. Believe me such a smile on your lips has more power than a whole epistle of St. Paul."
Donatus was alarmed and his lids dropped again. "God forbid! You were joking and I thought you were in earnest. Take back your golden ornaments--they burn my hands as though they had been forged in unholy fires."
But she pushed the things from her and said with an air of sweet earnestness, "Nay--you do me an injustice. If I talk the language of the world teach me a better one. Look at me! your gaze has a purifying power; look at me, look me in the face and see if I can lie?" And once more he raised his eyes and drank the sweet poison of beauty such as he had never dreamed of.
"Come, come!" it was the Duke's voice, "my coy brother; you are already over head and ears in contemplation of our maid-of-honour! It seems to me she has converted you more quickly than you have converted her.'"
Donatus started, as from a dream; he blushed deeply, and casting down his eyes, he turned to the Abbot to present him with the jewels, which he still held in his hand. The Abbot, much surprised, thanked and blessed the generous donor.
But the Duchess paused and called Hildegard to her side.
"Why did you disturb us?" whispered Hildegard angrily in the Duke's ear as she passed him. Her breath came quickly and her cheeks glowed more scarlet than their rouge.
"You are a perfect fiend, Hildegard," the Duke whispered in return.
"I am much displeased with you, Countess," said the Duchess. "What have you to do with that innocent young monk? Try your arts where you will, only not here on these saintly men and do not destroy the peace of these chaste souls. I fear we shall never suit each other, Hildegard."