the pine boughs that sheltered their own early meetings; and now those gentle looks were turned on another, and those impassioned words breathed again, but not for her.
Gradually they had drawn nearer to where she was concealed; the sound of their voices rose upon her ear,—another instant, and she would be able to distinguish their words. The idea of being a hidden listener instantly recalled her to herself. With a noiseless step she turned away, and sought the next path, which led her home. Many and bitter were the thoughts which crossed her mind as she returned. No woman can see with indifference the man whom she once loved devoted to another. No: though the heart has long since renounced the creed of its former faith, has awakened to its errors, and reasoned away the once exquisite delusion; still the weakness lingers; and it needed all Francesca's vivid remembrance of Evelyn's treachery and meanness, to prevent her softening almost into regret for her faithless lover. But pride did what reason could not: she felt that she had deserved far other return—and disdain is sorrow's most certain consolation.
