of the Republic for the love he bore his
daughter.

And the shadows in that other home, the palazzo on the Canal Grande, in
these days of waiting, were colder, hasher,--born of selfishness rather
than love, of disappointed ambition perhaps,--but they were very real
shadows nevertheless, obscuring the clear-cut traditions of centuries,
out of which one should struggle through increase of pride, the other
through the broadening of a more generous love.

Meanwhile the gondola floated in light--between shadow and shadow--so
slight is the realization of the throes by which joy is sometimes born;
and the pathos of the change which made their gladness possible was for
the two young people still an unrecognized note.

But waiting was now over; more positive steps must be taken. Two
Secretaries had been sent from the Senate to bring the news of the
filing of the decree.

"Madre mia!" cried Marcantonio eagerly, when they were gone; "it has
come even before our hope!"

"Even sooner than thy hope," she echoed, feeling dreary, though he was
sitting with his arm around her, as if for a confidential talk.

But he was too happy to interpret her tone.

"The token!" he pleaded; "for Marina--and thou wilt come to see how
beautiful she is!"

She looked at him searchingly. He did not mean to urge her; he seemed
too happy to understand.

She rose and going slowly to her cabinet brought him her token--a string
of great Oriental pearls.

"These," she said, sitting down beside her son and opening the case,
"have I made ready for thy bride, since thou wert a little lad--at one
time one pearl, at another more, as I have found the rarest lustre. Some
of these, they say, have been hidden in Venice since the time of John of
Constantinople, who left them for his ransom; it may be but a tale, yet
they are rare in tint; and I have gleaned them, Marco, since thou wert a
little lad, not knowing who should wear them--not knowing, Marco----"

She broke off suddenly, touching the gems wistfully, endearingly, with
trembling, tapering fingers.

He laid his firm young hand upon hers lovingly. "How good thou art, my
mother; how good to think of thy boy through all these years! But thy
pearls are superb--they will almost frighten Marina. Later thou wilt
give them to her. Mother, dearest, let me take this rose which thou hast
worn, with thy little word of love--sweet mother----"

"They are fit for a princess, Marco," she said, still toying with th