ren; and that the beauty of our skies, our
civilisation, and the attractions of our court would end by softening
whatever rudeness there might be in the young Hungarian's character; but
in spite of my efforts all has tended to cause coldness, and even
aversion, between the bridal pair. Joan, scarcely fifteen, is far ahead
of her age. Gifted with a brilliant and mobile mind, a noble and lofty
character, a lively and glowing fancy, now free and frolicsome as a
child, now grave and proud as a queen, trustful and simple as a young
girl, passionate and sensitive as a woman, she presents the most striking
contrast to Andre, who, after a stay of ten years at our court, is
wilder, more gloomy, more intractable than ever. His cold, regular
features, impassive countenance, and indifference to every pleasure that
his wife appears to love, all this has raised between him and Joan a
barrier of indifference, even of antipathy. To the tenderest effusion
his reply is no more than a scornful smile or a frown, and he never seems
happier than when on a pretext of the chase he can escape from the court.
These, then, are the two, man and wife, on whose heads my crown shall
rest, who in a short space will find themselves exposed to every passion
whose dull growl is now heard below a deceptive calm, but which only
awaits the moment when I breathe my last, to burst forth upon them."

"O my God, my God!" the queen kept repeating in her grief: her arms fell
by her side, like the arms of a statue weeping by a tomb.

"Listen, Dona Sandra. I know that your heart has never clung to earthly
vanities, and that you only wait till God has called me to Himself to
withdraw to the convent of Santa Maria delta Croce, founded by yourself
in the hope that you might there end your days. Far be it from me to
dissuade you from your sacred vocation, when I am myself descending into
the tomb and am conscious of the nothingness of all human greatness.
Only grant me one year of widowhood before you pass on to your bridal
with the Lord, one year in which you will watch over Joan and her
husband, to keep from them all the dangers that threaten. Already the
woman who was the seneschal's wife and her son have too much influence
over our grand-daughter; be specially careful, and amid the many
interests, intrigues, and temptations that will surround the young queen,
distrust particularly the affection of Bertrand d'Artois, the beauty of
Louis of Tarentum; and the am