— 15 — MELCHOIR OF BRABANTThe last chant of the monks died away. The Sabbath service was ended and the Court rose from its place in the Emperor’s chapel, but Jacobea remained on her knees and tried to pray. The Empress, very fair and childishly sweet, drooping under the weight of her jewelled garments even with three pages to lift her train, raised her brows to see her lady remaining and gave her a little smile as she passed. The Emperor, dark, reserved, devout and plainly habited, followed with his eyes still on his breviary; he was leaning on the arm of Balthasar of Courtrai; the sun falling slantwise through the high coloured windows made the fair locks and golden clothes of the Margrave one glitter in a dazzling brightness. Jacobea could not bring her thoughts to dwell on holy things;
