r which
the brief flame of the Cyprian sunset was ever a signal.
"The years will make of thee a poet, my Father," Caterina said, smiling
at the turn of phrase so unusual from his lips.
"It is not the years but thou, my Daughter, who hast taught me that
beauty may be holy and lift the soul."
XXXVI
An Embassy from Venice was expected upon important affairs of State, and
there was an unusual radiance in the face of the Queen, for it had been
announced that the Illustrissimo, the Signor Zorzi Cornaro, brother to
Caterina, was chief of the Commission, and it was long since one of her
very own had been with her.
"_Zia mia_," she said eagerly to the elder Lady of the Bernardini. "Thou
wilt see that no courtesy of reception shall be omitted--it is to
welcome one of my very own!"
She dwelt on the phrase with a pathetic accent of delight, returning to
it again as she discussed some details of the welcome that should be
offered to her brother, whom, for years she had not seen.
Never had an ambassador been received with higher honors in the Court of
Nikosia, or with such glad faces by all the attendant circle--for was
not His Excellency of the Queen's own household?--and it had been rare
to see such a light of happiness in her beloved eyes.
And well did the Cornaro seem to carry the honors due to his
house--being very noble in bearing, as befitted the brother of the
Queen; and so eloquent in speech that already before the first day had
passed, the scholarly men of the Court were exchanging glances of
admiration at the skill with which he parried their compliments; while
Caterina, noting their courtesy and the deftness with which he had won
them, grew more than ever radiant, with a certain look of restfulness
and of heart-satisfaction which, since the death of the child, those who
loved her had scarcely seen her wear.
But Aluisi Bernardini grew somewhat graver than his wont, as the banquet
proceeded, while he watched his cousin, the newly-arrived Ambassador,
less graciously, his lady thought, than he need have done on this first
evening when all were hastening to shower honors upon him.
"Whatever cometh," he said to his wife, as they rose at last from the
brilliant tables and passed out upon the terraces at the invitation of
the Queen; "whatever cometh, leave her not alone with him, though she
should urge thee; use thy sweet insistance--as thou knowest how--to keep
others about them for this first eveni
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