turning, to her son, who had knelt upon one knee, said,
pointing to Robert--

"My fair queen, allow the humblest of your subjects to offer his sincere
congratulations and to lay his homage at your feet."

"Rise, Robert," said Joan, extending her hand kindly, and with no show
of bitterness. "We were brought up together, and I shall never forget
that in our childhood--I mean those happy days when we were both
innocent--I called you my brother."

"As you allow me, madam," said Robert, with an ironical smile, "I too
shall always remember the names you formerly gave me."

"And I," said the Catanese, "shall forget that I speak to the Queen of
Naples, in embracing once more my beloved daughter. Come, madam, away
with care: you have wept long enough; we have long respected your grief.
It is now time to show yourself to these good Neapolitans who bless
Heaven continually for granting them a queen so beautiful and good; it
is time that your favours fall upon the heads of your faithful subjects,
and my son, who surpasses all in his fidelity, comes first to ask a
favour of you, in order that he may serve you yet more zealously."

Joan cast on Robert a withering look, and, speaking to the Catanese,
said with a scornful air--

"You know, madam, I can refuse your son nothing."

"All he asks," continued the lady, "is a title which is his due, and
which he inherited from his father--the title of Grand Seneschal of
the Two Sicilies: I trust, my daughter, you will have no difficulty in
granting this."

"But I must consult the council of regency."

"The council will hasten to ratify the queen's wishes," replied Robert,
handing her the parchment with an imperious gesture: "you need only
speak to the Count of Artois."

And he cast a threatening glance at the curtain, which had slightly
moved.

"You are right," said the queen at once; and going up to a table she
signed the parchment with a trembling hand.

"Now, my daughter, I have come in the name of all the care I bestowed
on your infancy, of all the maternal love I have lavished on you, to
implore a favour that my family will remember for evermore."

The queen recoiled one step, crimson with astonishment and rage; but
before she could find words to reply, the lady continued in a voice that
betrayed no feeling--

"I request you to make my son Count of Eboli."

"That has nothing to do with me, madam; the barons of this kingdom would
revolt to a man if I were on my own auth