The Queen was measuring the narrow apartment with hasty steps; all her usual repose of manner gone. She frequently threw an angry look at the beautiful girl, who, leaning against a marble table, stood quietly before her with downcast eyelids. "Reflect well," cried Amalaswintha angrily, and suddenly standing still, "reflect once more! I give you three days' time." "It is in vain. I shall always speak as I have done to-day," said Mataswintha without raising her eyes. "Then tell me, what have you to say against Earl Arahad?" "Nothing, except that I cannot love him." The Queen did not seem to hear her. "This is quite a different case from the other, when we would have had you marry Cyprianus," she said. "He was old and--which perhaps in your eyes was a greater disadvantage," she added bitterly--"a Roman." "And yet I was banished to Tarentum because I refused him." "I hoped that severity would have induced you to change your mind. For months I kept you away from my court, from my motherly heart." A bitter smile curled Mataswintha's lovely mouth. "In vain," continued the Queen. "I now call you back----" "You err. My brother Athalaric called me back!" "I now offer you another husband. Young, handsome, a Goth of the purest nobility, his rank is at this moment the second in the kingdom. You know, at least you suspect, how sorely my throne, surrounded by enemies, needs protection. He and his powerful brother promise us the help of their whole army. Earl Arahad loves you, and you, you refuse him! Tell me why?" "Because I do not love him." "A girl's stupid speech! You are a King's daughter; you ought to sacrifice yourself to your rank, to your kingdom." "I am a woman," answered Mataswintha, raising her sparkling eyes, "and will sacrifice my heart to no power in heaven or on earth!" "And thus speaks my daughter? Look at me, foolish child. I have striven after great things, and have attained much. As long as men admire what is great, they will name my name. I have won all that life can offer, and yet I never----" "Loved! I know it," sighed her daughter. "You know it?" "Yes; it was the curse of my childhood! I was indeed still a child when my father died. I knew not how to express it, but even then I could feel that his heart missed something, when, sighing deeply, he embraced Athalaric and me, and sighed again. And I loved him all the more tenderly because I felt that he sought love most where it was wanting. Now indeed I know what then I could not explain to myself. You became our father's wife, because, after Theodoric, he stood next to the throne. Ambition, and not love, led you to his arms, and you could only give cold pride in return for his warm affection." Amalaswintha was startled, and stopped again in her restless walk. "You are very bold!" she said. "I am your daughter----" "You speak of love so familiarly--you seem to know it at twenty better than I at fifty. You love!" she cried suddenly, "and thence comes this obstinacy!"