may that be?" he demanded, in the thick, half-articulate mumble
which so many ambassadors found a difficulty in understanding.

"A maid of Scotland, for whom I have come to ask a favour," answered
Valentine la Nina.

"Ah," said the King, as one who all his life had had knowledge of such
requests. But without further question he took Valentine la Nina by the
hand and led her to the window, so that the grey light, half-reflected
from the clay-muddy sky, and half from the snowy courtyard, might strike
directly upon her face.

"Isabel Osorio's daughter--yes!" he said very low, "herself indeed!"

"The lawful daughter of your lawful wife," said the girl, "also an
obedient daughter. For I have done ever what you wished me--save only in
one thing. And that--that--I am now ready to do, on one condition."

"Ah," said the King again, pulling at his beard, "now aid me to sit down
again, my daughter. We will talk."

"Aye," the girl answered, "we will talk--you and I. You and I have not
talked much in my life. I have always obeyed--you--my uncle of
Astorga--Mariana of the Gesu. For that reason I am alive--I am
free--there is still a place for me in the world. But I know--you have
told me--Isabel Osorio's brother himself has told me, that I too must
sacrifice myself for your other and younger children, the sons and
daughters of princesses. You have often asked me--indeed bidden me to
enter a nunnery. The Jesuits have made me great promises. For what? That
I might leave the way clear for others--I, the King's eldest-born--I,
whom you dare not deny of blood as good as your own, a daughter of the
Osorio who fought at Clavijo shoulder to shoulder with Santiago
himself."

"I do not deny," said the King softly, "you have done a good work. But
the Faith hath need of you. To it you consecrate your mother's beauty as
I have consecrated my life----"

"Yes," said the girl, "but first you lived your life--you did not yield
it up on the threshold--unlived."

Silently Philip crossed himself, raising his thick swollen fingers from
the rosary which hung about his neck as low as his waist.

"Then why have you come," he said, again resuming the steady fingering
of his beads, "when you have not thought it fitting to obey, save upon
condition? One does not play the merchant with one's father."

"I have been too young--yes," she broke out, her voice hurrying in fear
of interruption--"too like my mother--ah, even you cannot reproach me
with th