Graziosa Vistarnini, the savior of Milan, and the Duke's betrothed, was lodged with regal state in the magnificent new tower that stood in the grounds of the Visconti palace. Visconti could be liberal to a fault where it suited his vanity or his purpose, and Graziosa's new residence was decorated with a lavishness that made the French stare. For not only had she saved Milan, but she had done it solely for love of him, and it gratified Visconti's pride as much as it pleased his ambition. Save for this girl he had been now even as had been Della Scala, and Milan humbled as Verona. She had been the means of his once more outwitting a foe; she had assured his safety and the safety of his city; and Visconti's proud gratitude showed in the state and splendor with which he surrounded his chosen wife. This glorious summer morning she was seated on the side terrace that surrounded the tower, a terrace of black marble and alabaster, the delicate balustrade smothered in lemon and myrtle trees and clusters of white roses. Graziosa was in the midst of a brilliant company; the best-born dames in Italy were among her women, and more knights and pages composed her train than had ever waited on Visconti's sister. Beneath them the garden, reached by a shallow flight of steps, spread in perfect loveliness to the palace, above whose pink brick walls and rugged gray fortifications floated the banner of the Viper. The air was golden with the brightness of the sun, there was not a cloud in the purple sky, and Graziosa's heart was singing in pure happiness. She rose from her chair impulsively, and walked to the edge of the terrace, leaning over the balustrade, the ladies behind her. "'Tis sad to think there should be fighting on such a day as this," said one, handing Graziosa her fan. "God grant it may soon be peace!" "God grant it!" repeated the painter's daughter fervently. "They say the Veronese cannot hold out much longer," said another. "This very morn there was news. Bassano has fallen----" Graziosa picked a cluster of roses and buried her face in them. "How beautiful they are!" she said. "See, they have little hearts all gold, never showing till they die; a pretty fancy, is it not?" And she stroked them tenderly. "Bassano has fallen?" she repeated idly. "Yes, and 'tis said they cannot fail in getting Reggio." "Then my lord's arms are everywhere victorious!" cried Graziosa with sparkling eyes. "As ever, lady," was the answer. "And we can hope for peace," continued Graziosa softly. "And when peace is proclaimed you will be Duchess--almost Queen--of Lombardy, Gian Visconti's wife!" There was a note of envy in the speaker's voice at such a splendid destiny, but Graziosa did not notice it. She even shuddered faintly at Visconti's name; it had been associated with awe and terror too long for her to be able to easily shake the fear away. "Meanwhile, the sun is shining hot, lady," said a third attendant. "Will you not come into the shelter?"