or, yet not a coward too."

"Yes, one knoweth, bella Contarini mia: did I not promise thee news? And
thou wilt never guess it."

"It was our Admiral Mocenigo who found him?" Eloisa asked eagerly.

"Nay; not 'our Admiral Mocenigo';" the other answered lingering on the
name with a fine mimicry of her tone; "not thine nor mine. Thou hast a
foolish way with thee of mine and thine, as if all that came from Venice
were held close to thy little heart.--How goes it with thy handsome
Signor Bernardini?"

"Oh, Ecciva! The Chamberlain of the Queen! how darest thou? Thou art
over free with thy foolish speech."

"Nay, little timid maid; it is thou who art foolish not to see--not to
see----. Ah, well, he is but a man for all he is Venetian; and
thou--thou art a child and hast no eyes."

"What meanest thou, Ecciva? Nay, thou _shalt_ tell me." She caught her
companion's hand as Ecciva made a feint of turning away.

"So----; now there is something found that doth not tax thy fickle
patience, since we speak of the splendid Bernardini! Thou hast ever
thine adoration ready for a Venetian."

Eloisa flushed indignantly, but she answered staunchly: "Not only
I--but every one who loveth what is noble. Thou knowest, Ecciva, the
Court is full of his praises."

"Aye, is it, my little one? As well it may be! Then what harm that I
should sing them too? Verily, I think he is noble beyond all others;"
her taunting tone became suddenly earnest. "And this I came to tell
thee."

"This is not news," the other answered coldly, having found it difficult
to keep the pace of Ecciva's changing admirations, for the Cyprian
maiden was easily captured by any demonstration of power; "and thou
camest to bring me news."

"Hast ever thought that the Chamberlain of the Queen would woo a bride?"
Dama Ecciva asked lightly, but unconsciously opening and closing her
slender henna-stained fingers, straining them into the soft palms with
strenuous motions, while she waited for her companion's reply.

"If I knew his secrets or dreamed them, I would not tell thee--being his
friend," Eloisa exclaimed indignantly, "such talk ill befitteth the
dignity of Her Majesty's maids of honor. What is thy news?"

Ecciva came closer and laid one hand on Eloisa's wrist, tightening her
clasp while she spoke in low, slow, insinuating tones--holding her with
her strange gaze.

"This is no news to thee--that I--that I----? Tell me Eloisa, dost thou
not see?"

The Venetian t