She did not need gold or gems.  What gave her power to subdue the hearts of men was of higher value.

Yet, when she mingled among the other dignitaries, she felt like an intruder in this circle.

The marquise had left her, and joined those of her own rank.  Most of the ladies were strangers to Barbara, and she was avoided by those whom she knew; but, to make amends, she was soon surrounded by many aristocratic gentlemen, and her mobile nature speedily made her forget what had just depressed her joyous spirit.

Then the cannon and culverins thundered louder, the blare of trumpets rent the air with deafening shrillness, the ringing of bells in all the steeples of Ratisbon, the exulting shouts of the crowd upon the stands and in the whole Lindenplatz poured in mighty waves of sound into the tent, where the nobles and aristocratic ladies around Barbara now raised their voices also.

With a throbbing heart she mingled her cheers with those of the others and, like them, waved her handkerchief and her fan.

The man whom she loved was approaching!  This crashing and echoing, this wild uproar of enthusiastic shouts and cries, this flutter of flags and waving of handkerchiefs were all in his honour and, stirred to her inmost soul by impetuous enthusiasm and ardent gratitude, her eyes grew dim with tears, and she joined far more loudly and freely in the cheers of the multitude than the aristocrats around her, to whom court etiquette dictated reserve on all occasions, even this one.

The loving woman saw nothing save the man who was advancing.  How should she have noticed the scornful glances which her unrestrained vivacity elicited?

Her gaze was fixed solely upon the one sun to which the little stars around her owed their paler or brighter radiance.  She scarcely noticed even the handsome young prince at Charles’s side.  Yet Duke Maurice would have been well worthy of her whole attention, for with what a free, proud step he advanced, while his imperial master used his arm as a support!

Charles also looked magnificent in the Castilian court costume, with the chain of the Grand Master of the Golden Fleece about his neck; but the young Saxon duke was considerably his superior in height, and the silver-embroidered, steel-gray suit of Spanish cut and the black velvet mantle trimmed with a border of marten fur, were extremely becoming.  Both saluted the crowd that welcomed them so warmly and loudly, gazing meanwhile at the festal scene, the Emperor with haughty, almost indifferent dignity, the duke with less reserve and more eager gestures.

Barbara knew the sovereign, and when she saw him thrust his lower lip slightly forward she was sure that something vexed him.

Perhaps she ought not to venture to irritate the lion that day.

Was his anger roused by the boldness of the city magistrates, who dared to favour the Saxon escutcheon and banners so openly?  It seemed to her exasperating, punishable insolence.  But perhaps in his greatness he did not grudge this distinction to a guest so much his inferior, and it was only the gout again inflicting its pangs upon his poor tortured foot.