Duke Baldwin had devoted the fairest rooms in his palace to the Duchess Esclaramonde of Thebes before her arrival, when he thought of her only as a visitor whom he might--and the rumors of her encouraged the thought--persuade with no great pains to an intimacy of friendship. The best part of the left wing of the palace was consecrated to her use, and its spacious rooms that looked upon the plain of Athens were furnished and adorned in the most noble manner that the age could compass. Duke Baldwin loved to be prodigal of pleasures to others when the prodigality enforced an almost aching sense of gratitude, and probably any woman in the world, with the exception of the Lady Esclaramonde, would have felt at least a little grateful to Duke Baldwin. All that gold and silver and bronze and ivory and ebony and silks and furs and jewels could lend to make her rooms a little paradise of luxury had been done under the duke's orders by those who knew better than the burly duke how to grace the haven of a fair dame. Money that would have paid twice over the outstanding demands of the Catalan Grand Company had been squandered with a free hand to make a fitting background for the imperious beauty of the lady of Thebes. In fulsome compliment that might have been flagrant irony, the mosaic walls were hung with exquisite arras, upon which the cunning hands of many craftsmen had woven amorous images from every passionate tale of love. All this the bluff duke had done, and done cheerfully, when his only thoughts concerning his comely visitor were of a personal nature. But when the duchess rode to his gates on that May evening, bearing his son's inanimate body with her, and, while that body still lay inanimate, told the lord of Athens that her troth was plighted to his son, Duke Baldwin's cheerfulness dwindled no whit. His palace hummed with ebullient compliance; he would have no lack of consolation, while his foolish son had done a wise thing unawares. So Duke Baldwin resigned without a sigh all thoughts of his fair Theban neighbor, save as a daughter-in-law, and chuckled inwardly at the little less than prophetic instinct which had led him to prepare so fair a nest for her homing. As for Esclaramonde, who had started upon her journey in a spirit of perfect willingness to entertain with complaisance any homage that the Duke of Athens might lay at her feet, she now readily dressed her temper to accept his paternal caresses, while she smiled significant appreciation of the duke's ostentatious care for her comfort.