piness. These three years of absence had made some subtle difference
in the Lady Marina; there was more mystery about her with less reserve,
and a certain calm acceptance of the position all conceded had given her
courage to discuss religious history and opinions in a serious way that
was quite charming to the older prelates who mingled in Venetian social
circles, where simple earnestness of soul was a quality so rare that it
might have been mistaken for a depth of subtlety; but the Lady Marina
talked or listened only because the themes were of vital interest for
her. Besides, she had now her child to guide and she must know; and the
learned men who gave their lives to the study of higher things were
those, above all others, from whom she could learn the most; and with
this unconscious flattery a little court, of a character somewhat
unusual in Venice, had gathered in her salons. Her husband, coming in
late from the Council Chamber one evening, rallied her upon it, saying
that her receptions might be mistaken for those of a lady abbess--there
were so many friars and grave ecclesiastics among her guests. His light
tone concealed a little uneasiness, for the friar's warning had more
than once recurred to him.

But it was impossible to convey anything to Marina by a half-concealed
thrust, her nature was so essentially ingenuous, incapable of imagining
intrigues of any sort.

"Yes, it is indeed an honor!" she answered, with her ready, trusting
smile. "It is good of them, they are so much more interesting than the
others; and to-night the talk was quite delightful! I would thou hadst
been here, my Marco! Life is so much more beautiful since we have been
to Rome! _Everything_ that was delightful came with our marriage," she
added, turning her radiant face toward him.

He smiled, too, quite disarmed by her beauty and candor, and a little
amused that this life of a Venetian princess should be so lightly
included in this "everything" which marriage had brought to this maiden
of Murano; but he could not help thinking how easily she wore her
honors, and how she graced them; all Venice was at her feet, and she
preferred the dull talk of a few ecclesiastics to the vivacious
gallantry of the brilliant young nobles who thronged her salons--the
more anxious to please this queen of the day, that their efforts won
only the dignified and gracious, yet reserved, recognition that was
extended to all her guests alike. She was the very reve