So, with a vivacity of intonation which harmonized with the extravagance of the poetry, he began: "Queen of my heart wert thou in days of old, Beloved maid, in childhood's garb so plain; I bring thee velvet now, and silk and gold Though I am but a poor and simple swain That in robes worthy of thee may be seen My sovereign, of all thy sex the queen." Barbara nodded pleasantly to him, saying: "Very pretty.

Perhaps you might arrange your little verse in a duo, but how you must have taxed your imagination, you poor fellow, to transform the flighty good-for-nothing whom you left five years ago into a brilliant queen!" "Because, even at that time," he ardently exclaimed.

"I had placed you on the throne of my heart, because the bud already promised--Yet no! In those days I could not suspect that it would unfold into so marvellous a rose.

You stand before me now more glorious than I beheld you in the most radiant of all my dreams, and therefore the longing to possess you, which I could never relinquish, will make me appear almost insolently bold.

But it must be risked, and if you will fulfil the most ardent desire of a faithful heart--" "Gently, my little Wolf, gently," she interposed soothingly.