Never before had Odo so keenly felt the difference between theoreticalvisions of liberty and their practical application. His deepestheart-searchings showed him as sincerely devoted as ever to the causewhich had enlisted his youth. He still longed above all things to servehis fellows; but the conditions of such service were not what he haddreamed. How different a calling it had been in Saint Francis's day,when hearts inflamed with the new sense of brotherhood had but to setforth on their simple mission of almsgiving and admonition! To loveone's neighbour had become a much more complex business, one that taxedthe intelligence as much as the heart, and in the course of whichfeeling must be held in firm subjection to reason. He was discouraged byFulvia's inability to understand the change. Hers was the missionaryspirit; and he could not but reflect how much happier she would havebeen as a nun in a charitable order, a unit in some organised system ofbeneficence.

　　He too would have been happier to serve than to command! But it is notgiven to the lovers of the Lady Poverty to choose their special rank inher household. Don Gervaso's words came back to him with deepeningsignificance, and he thought how truly the old chaplain's prayer hadbeen fulfilled. Honour and power had come to him, and they had abasedhim to the dust. The "Humilitas" of his fathers, woven, carved andpainted on every side, pursued him with an ironical reminder of hisimpotence.

　　Fulvia had not been mistaken in attributing his depression of spirit tode Crucis's visit. It was the first time that de Crucis had returned toPianura since the new Duke's accession. Odo had welcomed him eagerly,had again pressed him to remain; but de Crucis was on his way toGermany, bound on some business which could not be deferred. Odo, awareof the renewed activity of the Jesuits, supposed that this business wasconnected with the flight of the French refugees, many of whom were goneto Coblentz; but on this point the abate was silent. Of the state ofaffairs in France he spoke openly and despondently. The immoderate hastewith which the reforms had been granted filled him with fears for thefuture. Odo knew that Crescenti shared these fears, and the judgment ofthese two men, with whom he differed on fundamental principles, weighedwith him far more than the opinions of the party he was supposed torepresent. But he was in the case of many greater sovereigns of his day.

　　He had set free the waters of reform, and the frail bark of hisauthority had been torn from its moorings and swept headlong into thecentral current.

　　The next morning, to his surprise, the Duchess sent one of her gentlemento ask an audience. Odo at once replied that he would wait on herHighness; and a few moments later he was ushered into his wife's closet.

　　She had just left her toilet, and was still in the morning negligee wornduring that prolonged and public ceremonial. Freshly perfumed andpowdered, her eyes bright, her lips set in a nervous smile, shecuriously recalled the arrogant child who had snatched her spaniel awayfrom him years ago in that same room. And was she not that child, afterall? Had she ever grown beyond the imperious instincts of her youth? Itseemed to him now that he had judged her harshly in the first months oftheir marriage. He had felt a momentary impatience when he had tried toforce her roving impulses into the line of his own endeavour: it waseasier to view her leniently now that she had almost passed out of hislife.

　　He wondered why she had sent for him. Some dispute with her household,doubtless; a quarrel with a servant, even--or perhaps some sordiddifficulty with her creditors. But she began in a new key.

　　"Your Highness," she said, "is not given to taking my advice."Odo looked at her in surprise. "The opportunity is not often accordedme," he replied with a smile.

　　Maria Clementina made an impatient gesture; then her face softened.

　　Contradictory emotions flitted over it like the reflections cast by ahurrying sky. She came close to him and then drew away and seatedherself in the high-backed chair where she had throned when he first sawher. Suddenly she blushed and began to speak.

　　"Once," she said in a low, almost inaudible voice, "I was able to giveyour Highness warning of an impending danger--" She paused and her eyesrested full on Odo.

　　He felt his colour rise as he returned her gaze. It was her firstallusion to the past. He had supposed she had forgotten. For a moment heremained awkwardly silent.

　　"Do you remember?" she asked.

　　"I remember.""The danger was a grave one. Your Highness may recall that but for mywarning you would not have been advised of it.""I remember," he said again.

　　She paused a moment. "The danger," she repeated, "was a grave one; butit threatened only your Highness's person. Your Highness listened to methen; will you listen again if I advise you of a greater--a perilthreatening not only your person but your throne?"Odo smiled. He could guess now what was coming. She had been drilled toact as the mouthpiece of the opposition. He composed his features andsaid quietly: "These are grave words, madam. I know of no suchperil--but I am always ready to listen to your Highness."His smile had betrayed him, and a quick flame of anger passed over herface.

　　"Why should you listen to me, since you never heed what I say?""Your Highness has just reminded me that I did so once--""Once!" she repeated bitterly. "You were younger then--and so was I!"She glanced at herself in the mirror with a dissatisfied laugh.

　　Something in her look and movement touched the springs of compassion.

　　"Try me again," he said gently. "If I am older, perhaps I am also wiser,and therefore even more willing to be guided--we all knew that." Shebroke off, as though she felt her mistake and wished to make a freshbeginning. Again her face was full of fluctuating meaning; and he saw,beneath its shallow surface, the eddy of incoherent impulses. When shespoke, it was with a noble gravity.

　　"Your Highness," she said, "does not take me into your counsels; but itis no secret at court and in the town that you have in contemplation agrave political measure.""I have made no secret of it," he replied.

　　"No--or I should be the last to know it!" she exclaimed, with one of hersudden lapses into petulance.

　　Odo made no reply. Her futility was beginning to weary him. She saw itand again attempted an impersonal dignity of manner.

　　"It has been your Highness's choice," she said, "to exclude me frompublic affairs. Perhaps I was not fitted by education or intelligence toshare in the cares of government. Your Highness will at least bearwitness that I have scrupulously respected your decision, and have neverattempted to intrude upon your counsels."Odo bowed. It would have been useless to remind her that he had soughther help and failed to obtain it.

　　"I have accepted............