ting her to sing
something else or cease entirely for that day.

Startled, she again asked forgiveness, and then pleaded in justification
the universally acknowledged beauty of this charming song, which Maestro
Gombert also admired; but the Emperor flew into a passion, and cut her
short with the loud remark that he was not in the habit of having his own
judgment corrected by the opinion of others. The jest did all honour to
the skill and merry mood of the composer, but the contrary might be said
of the singer who ventured to sing it to a person in whom it could awaken
only bitter feelings.

But when, so painfully surprised that her eyes filled with tears, she
confessed that her selection perhaps had not been very appropriate, and
sadly added the inquiry why her beloved sovereign condemned a trivial
offence so harshly, he wrathfully exclaimed, "For more than one reason."

Then, rising, he paced the room several times with a somewhat limping
gait, saying, in so loud a tone that it could be distinctly heard in the
dark, sultry garden: "Because it shows little delicacy of feeling when
the man who is satiated tells the starving one of the dainty meal which
he has just eaten; because--because I call it shameful for a person who
can see to tell one who is blind of the pleasure he derives from the
splendid colours of gay flowers; because I expect from the woman whom I
honour with my love more consideration for me and what shadows my life.
Because"--and here he raised his voice still more angrily--"I demand from
any one united to me, the Emperor, by whatever bond----"

The marquise had been unable to hear more of the monarch's violent
attack, for the messenger who had just brought the unwelcome news--it was
Adrian Dubois--had not only passed her, but ventured to call to her and
remark that she would be wise to go into the house--a thunderstorm was
rising. He was not afraid of the rain, and would wait there for his
Majesty.

So the listener did not hear how the incensed monarch continued with the
demand that the woman he loved should neither tell him falsehoods nor
deceive him.

Until then Barbara had listened, silent and pale, biting her trembling
lips in order to adhere to her resolve to submit without reply to
whatever Charles's terrible irritability inflicted upon her. But he must
have noticed what was passing in her mind, for he suddenly paused in his
walk, and, abruptly standing before her, gazed full into her face,