Marjorie Bowen

“ In the middle stood a gilt stucco table, and to this Visconti drew a chair and bade Graziosa seat herself.
"Here is what I will make of Milan, sweet, when the war is ended!" he said, as the architect unrolled and arranged his drawings.
"And will that be soon?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Aye, I hope so," laughed the Duke. "Mastino della Scala grows weaker day by day—I have Bassano, and shall have Reggio. He has lost his wits as well as his fortresses, for he bids me to a single combat: all to stand or fall by our own swords. ”

“ The shade of Visconti's face deepened as he looked at her: compared to his sister, Graziosa was a candle beside the sun; the contrast did not please Gian.
D'Orleans rose and bowed low to the lady, yet in a way that was not respectful.
"So there has been a challenge from the enemy," he lisped. "Now I shall love to see a single meeting of brave swords again."
"Who said so?" asked Visconti. He came slowly down the steps; his manner had quite changed, and his eyes were on his sister.
"The Lady Valentine," said the Frenchman. ”

“ She thought of her father with a sudden yearning; she had always turned to him in her little troubles, she felt uneasy about him with a sudden wave of homesickness. "Can I forget?" she cried in her heart. "Can I live this life and forget?" ”

“ How his mother's heart was broken?"
"I know you never raised a hand to save them—I know I love him!" cried Graziosa.
"Doubtless," smiled Valentine with scorn. "But does he love you? Why, he is so stained with crime I do not care to touch his hand. Would such a man love—you?"
"Some tales I have heard, but now I know them false," said Graziosa, white and trembling. "And I will hear no more."
"She thinks he loves her!" murmured Valentine. "She thinks Gian Visconti loves her!"
Graziosa was as near hate as was possible for her ”

“ He has his answer, and I have his wife. Now, look at these, Graziosa——" and he took the drawings from the architect and spread them on the table.
"My new church," he said. "The plans, my well-beloved."
And he looked eagerly at Graziosa.
"Indeed, my lord, I do not understand them—it is no church, surely?" And she raised a sweet, bewildered face.
"’Tis the plan of one. Messer Gambera will explain it," and he motioned eagerly to the architect. "Here, messer, this is the porch?" And he laid his finger on the drawing, absorbed in contemplation.
"Yes, my lord." ”