"On the contrary, you are most welcome," said she; "but I seek to grace my guest, and distrust my own powers of entertainment. You find us in sad disorder, but I will send a line to the Bishop--" "Pray do nothing so unnecessary, so unwished for--Ah, Giulia! it was not thus I hoped you would welcome me! You will never understand that I am your true friend, and prefer your conversation to that of any one else. Your welfare, your safety, are dear to me; and yet you always distrust me." "How can you say so?" said she, dropping her eyes. "How, indeed, save that you always betray it! Come, cannot we be friends?" said he, pleasantly. "Once we might have been more, and now need we be less?" "By no means, Cardinal, and--" "I am always Ippolito, to _you_--" "By no means, Cardinal; I enjoy using your title, it is so noble, so imposing, it becomes you so well. You have taken a decided part at last, and I esteem you all the more for it. Your learning and genius will adorn your high vocation. What influence you now possess! how many look up to you! Surely your position must be an enviable one?" A complex expression crossed his face, as he said, with emphasis, "Very! And yours?" "Oh, mine is what it has long been. It has its lights and its shadows." "Shadows?" "Not very dark ones, certainly; but three-fourths of my life are spent in a sort of dull twilight, that is--infinitely melancholy!" "Whence proceeds that melancholy?" "I know not. My natural disposition, perhaps. I have everything I can want or wish, yet it sometimes seems to me that there is only one thing to reconcile us to life--" "What is that?" "The fear of death." "Just so," said he, abruptly. "Can you, a churchman, tell me how to overcome that fear?" "There is no fear of your dying--" "Die I must, soon or late! Death comes to all. Can you, a churchman, tell me how to meet it?" "Surely, surely! The Church has provided supports. There are the sacraments. There is absolution. There is extreme unction." "I do not know how these may support me when the time comes. Meanwhile they do not remove the fear of death." He looked at her earnestly for a moment, and was about to speak, but refrained. At the same time, the customary refection of wine and comfits was brought in by two of the Duchess's damsels, while a third brought a golden ewer of rose-water, and a fourth a basin and gold-fringed napkin. The duenna and Moorish girl were embroidering at one of the windows. When the girls had withdrawn, the Cardinal and Duchess resumed their conversation, like two old and familiar friends, who had at some former period seen a good deal more of one another than of late. He spoke of Hayraddin Barbarossa's descent upon Fondi, and minutely inquired into the particulars, and the amount of damage done. He ended with "Well, a wilful woman must have her way. All this may happen again, and with a worse end." "Please do not frighten me," said the Duchess. "It is very unkind."