’We, you and I, are in a manner his guardians—accountable to the Duke.’ ’I can understand your Grace’s anxiety,’ he said shortly. ’Nevertheless, it was not I introduced him to the court,’ she said. ’But only to some of its secrets,’ he responded. ’I do not understand you.’ ’It is very plain, Madonna. You gave him the key to that discovery.’ She rose at once, breathing quickly, her cheeks white. ’Ah, Messer! in heaven’s name procure me the return of my ring!’ Her voice was quite pitiful, entreating. He looked at her gloomily, gnawing his upper lip. ’Madonna commands? I will do my best to find and take it from him, alive or dead.’ She fell back with a little crying gasp. ’Find him—yes.’ ’No more?’ he demanded grimly. ’I thought you loved him?’ she gulped. ’Too well,’ he answered, ’to be your go-between.’ She uttered a fierce exclamation, and clenched her hands. ’Go, sir!’ she said. He turned at once. She came after him, fawning. ’Good Messer Carlo, dear lord,’ she breathed weepingly; ’nay, thou art a loyal and honest friend. Forgive me. We are all in need of forgiveness.’ He faced about again. ’Penitence is blasphemy without reform,’ he said. ’Ah me! it is. How well thou hast caught the sweet preacher’s style. Hast _thou_ reformed?’ ’Ay, in the worst.’ ’Thou hast made an enemy of thy mistress? Poor Bembo, poor child! He will need a mother.’ ’Wouldst thou be that to him?’ ’What else? Get me my ring.’ ’Beatrice hates him——’ ’She would, the wretch, for his parting you and her.’ ’Or loves him—I don’t know which.’ ’Wanton! how dare she?’ ’Well, if you will play the mother to him——’ ’Is he not a child to adore? Ah me! to be foster-parent to that boon-comrade of the Christ!’ Carlo looked at her with some satisfaction darkling out of gloom. His honest hot brain was no Machiavellian possession; his temper was the travail of a warm heart. He believed this woman meant honestly; and so, no doubt, she did in her loss, not considering, or choosing not to consider, the emotionalism of regain. ’Ay, Madonna,’ said he, kindling, ’’tis the most covetable relation. Who but a Potiphar’s wife would associate what we call love with this Joseph? God! a look of him will make me blush as I were a brat caught stealing sugar. There is that in him, we blurt out the truth in the very act of hiding it. A child to adore? Is he not, now, the dear put? and to hearken to and imitate what we can. Ay, and more—to shield with this arm—let men beware. Only the women harass me, this way and that. Their loves and hates be like twin babes. None but their dam can tell each from the other. Therefore, would ye mother him—’ ’Yes—’ ’And cherish and protect—’ ’Yes—’ ’And of your woman’s wisdom keep skirts at a distance—’ ’I will promise that most.’ ’Why, I will bring him back to thee, ring and all, though I turn Milan upside down first.’ He bowed and was going; but she detained him, with sycophant velvet eyes.