Unquestionably the first feeling which arose in her mind, on seeing what she had seen from the window of the church, was one of jealousy.  But she combated it vigorously; and if she did not succeed in altogether conquering it,—­that fiend being, by the nature of not to be vanquished so by one single effort, however valorous—­at least put it to the rout for the present.  She had known all along that Ludovico frequently saw La Bianca.  She knew that he would meet her at the ball; and, doubtless, the object of their expedition this morning was, as the friar had suggested, to show the stranger the celebrated Pineta.  Having thus, in some measure, tranquillized her heart, she began to think how lovely the forest must be on that fine spring morning; how much she, too, should like to see it; how good an opportunity the present was of doing so.  Perhaps, too, there was some little anticipation of the slight punishment to be inflicted on her lover, when he should be told that she had visited the Pineta alone at the very time when he had been in her immediate vicinity engaged in showing it to another.

And with these thoughts in her head, she made her inquiries, and started on her way.  But before she had walked many steps, other thoughts began to present themselves to her mind.  How did she know how far they had gone from the farmhouse?  Might they not still be in the immediate neighbourhood of it?  Might she not, very probably, fall in with them?  And would not that be exceedingly disagreeable?  Would she not have all the appearance of having followed them purposely from motives of jealousy?  Would not her presence be unwelcome?  Would there not be something of indelicacy even in thus following one who evidently preferred being with another?

These considerations sufficed to produce the change in her purpose, and in the direction towards which she turned her steps, that has been mentioned.  So she returned by the path, which has been described, into the road, and proceeded along it on her return to the city.  She did not trip along as briskly and alertly as she had done in coming thither; but walked slowly and pensively with her eyes on the ground.  She was thus a good deal longer in returning than in going.  And when she had reached the immediate neighbourhood of the city, she turned aside before entering the gate, into a sort of promenade under some trees near the city wall, and sat down on one of the stone benches there to think a little.

And presently; as she was busy thinking, she was startled into much displeasure against herself by discovering that two large utterly unauthorised tears were running down her cheeks.

What was the meaning of that?  Surely she was not jealous still, after all the good reasons for not being so, that she had so conclusively pointed out to herself?

No, she was not jealous.  She would not be jealous.  But it would have been so nice in the Pineta.  The sun was now high in the heavens.  The birds were singing on every tree; and Ludovico was enjoying it with that woman, whom, when she had seen her at the theatre, she had found it so impossible to like or to tolerate.  Yet she would not, could not, doubt that Ludovico loved herself, and her only.