Graziosa moved away; the white roses at her bosom were not more pure than her face. Two pages lifted her rich train, and as she crossed the terrace a third came and spoke to her on bended knee. "My Lord Giannotto waits your pleasure, lady." "Tell him I am here," and the color rose in Graziosa's face at so much honor. She turned to the steps where Giannotto waited, cap in hand, and advanced toward him. "Lady," said the secretary, bowing low, "my lord sent me to say he will wait on you himself; and meanwhile if you have any commands----" Graziosa interrupted him. "Indeed, my lord is too good; what commands should I have?--tell him so, with my deepest thanks, sir." Giannotto looked at her curiously, with a mixture of pity and wonder. "He comes himself, lady, to hear your thanks, and learn your will." And he stepped aside, joining the group that had been gathered about Graziosa. Gian Visconti was coming through the garden, a grave-looking man by his side, a white hound at his heels, and two boys following, one bearing a wooden case, the other carrying a roll of drawings. Visconti was talking to his companion; he was in the best of humors, at the height of triumph and success, his enemies well under his heel, his ambitions on the point of being gratified. Graziosa came to the head of the steps, and Visconti took his gold cap off and waved it, coming up them gayly. She stood silent in the glory of the sunshine and held out her hands, and he kissed them, and looked at her and laughed pleasantly. "Now art thou happy, _donna mia_?" he said. "Hast thou all that thou couldst wish?" "More than I ever dreamed of, my lord," she answered softly. "I did not know the world could be so beautiful--or so happy." "'Tis but a small return, Graziosa, my beloved, for what thou hast done for me," returned Visconti. "And I will make it more--this is but an earnest of the future. Visconti's wife shall live in such splendor that men shall not see her for its dazzle." "What am I, that thou shouldst give me so much joy!" cried Graziosa, with swimming eyes. Visconti smiled. "Thou art thyself--it is enough!" He turned to his companion, who stood respectfully at some little distance. "Come hither, Messer Gambera. Here is a lady who shall often pray within your church--my betrothed, who saved us Milan." Messer Gambera bowed low, and kissed the hem of her gown. Visconti watched his homage with pleased pride, and turned again to Graziosa. "Now I have somewhat to show thee. This is the architect of my new church, which shall be the wonder of Italy. Follow me, messer." And he led the way into the entrance-hall. It was low and wide, the walls covered with frescoes, the floor red sandstone, the windows opening on to the terrace. In the middle stood a gilt stucco table, and to this Visconti drew a chair and bade Graziosa seat herself.