“I am not speaking to you,” he said roughly, “but you,” he went on, addressing Dolores, and the heavy table shook under his hand.  “What devil possessed you that you should shame me and yourself, standing at your window to smile at Don John, as if he were the Espadero at a bull fight and you the beauty of the ring—­with all Madrid there to look on, from his Majesty the King to the beggar in the road?  Have you no modesty, no shame, no blood that can blush?  And if not, have you not even so much woman’s sense as should tell you that you are ruining your name and mine before the whole world?”

“Father!  For the sake of heaven do not say such words—­you must not!  You shall not!”

Dolores’ face was quite white now, as she gently pushed Inez aside and faced the angry man.  The table was between them.

“Have I said one word more than the very truth?” asked Mendoza.  “Does not the whole court know that you love Don John of Austria—­”

“Let the whole world know it!” cried the girl bravely.  “Am I ashamed to love the best and bravest man that breathes?”

“Let the whole world know that you are willing to be his toy, his plaything—­”

“His wife, sir!” Dolores’ voice was steady and clear as she interrupted her father.  “His wife,” she repeated proudly; “And to-morrow, if you and the King will not hinder us.  God made you my father, but neither God nor man has given you the right to insult me, and you shall not be unanswered, so long as I have strength and breath to speak.  But for you, I should be Don John of Austria’s wife to-day—­and then, then his ‘toy,’ his ’plaything’—­yes, and his slave and his servant—­what you will!  I love him, and I would work for him with my hands, as I would give my blood and my life for his, if God would grant me that happiness and grace, since you will not let me be his wife!”

“His wife!” exclaimed Mendoza, with a savage sneer.  “His wife—­to be married to-day and cast off to-morrow by a turn of the pen and the twisting of a word that would prove your marriage void, in order that Don John may be made the husband of some royal widowed lady, like Queen Mary of the Scots!  His wife!” He laughed bitterly.

“You have an exalted opinion of your King, my father, since you suppose that he would permit such deeds in Spain!”

Dolores had drawn herself up to her full height as she spoke, and she remained motionless as she awaited the answer to what she had said.  It was long in coming, though Mendoza’s dark eyes met hers unflinchingly, and his lips moved more than once as if he were about to speak.  She had struck a blow that was hard to parry, and she knew it.  Inez stood beside her, silent and breathing hard as she listened.