ich he will forget it,"
said the friar bitterly; "where they teach disloyalty to princes and
unmake men to make machines--and the mainspring is at Rome. Gentle women
are won to believe in them by the subtle polish of those who uphold
them, and the marvelous learning by which their teachers fit themselves
for office. And among them are men noble of character and true of
conscience--but bound, soul and body, by their oath; the system of the
Jesuit schools in Venice is for nothing else but the building up of
their order--at all costs of character or happiness. Let her keep her
little son, for her face seemed wise and tender; the favor which hath
been shown her may have a meaning."

"Will not my father some time come to the palazzo Giustiniani? The Lady
Marina would make him welcome."

"Nay, I thank you," the friar answered, instantly resuming his habitual
reserve. "Such gentle friendships form no part of my duty. I spake but
in friendly counsel. We, from without, see how the home should be more.
The orders are many to maintain the Church--they need no urging--but the
home hath also its privileged domain of childhood to be defended."

XV

With the return of the young people from Rome, gala days had once more
dawned for the Ca' Giustiniani, and the two sumptuous palaces which met
at the bend of the Canal Grande were scenes of perpetual fete. The
palazzo Giustinian Giustiniani had been chosen from all the princely
homes of Venice as best fitted, from its magnificence, to be offered as
a residence to Henry the Third of France, when that monarch had deigned
to honor the Republic by accepting its prodigal hospitality. In the
banquet halls, which had been prepared with lavish luxury for his
reception, the few years that had passed had but mellowed the elaborate
carvings and frescoes, while the costly hangings--of crimson velvet with
bullion fringes, of azure silk embroidered with fleurs-de-lis, of
brocades interwoven with threads of gold--had gained in grace of fold
and fusion of tints.

If there were no halls of equal splendor in the palace which had been
prepared for Marcantonio and his bride, it displayed in all its
appointments an elegance and fitness which the stately Lady Laura was
eager to exhibit to the critical appreciation of the fastidious upper
circle of Venice.

Marina had had no share in its decorations, and when consulted before
her marriage had expressed but one wish. "These cares of rank are new to
me