ther side of the river seemed hospitably to invite the inhabitants
to cross over. It was the same lovely picture which had formerly so
delighted her, but now it possessed no longer this charm; her joyous
heart had remained behind in the convent, and her entranced glance
lingered on the tower of the bridge as if through this gate all her
happiness--passed in or out she knew not which. As she now sat at her
window over her work, she felt what was lost to her: "If my mother
were but still alive," she thought, and a tear dropped from under her
eye-lashes. However much she loved her grave father she could not
confide her feelings to him. She had been shamefully deceived. The man,
whom she had deified as the best on earth, had proved himself to be a
wicked angel in the garb of a good shepherd, and the insult which he
had offered her, had sorely stricken her maiden heart. What did it
avail, that she had _bonam conscientiam_, as the good Abbess was wont
to say, it seemed nevertheless to her as if she had done some wrong in
suffering a hypocrite to have so much influence over her, and as she
thought of the terrible moment after the evening _exercitia_ in the
Chapel, the blood flew to her cheeks, and she bent over her work while
indignation and shame struggled within her. Whilst thus deeply wrapped
up in thought and painful reminiscences she was startled from her work
by seeing the shadow of a man passing close to the window on the
scaffolding. She was so accustomed to live here in profound solitude,
that she rose up terrified, as at the most did a sparrow fly against
the window or a pigeon settle on the coping. The head of the man was
above the window so that she could only see up to his shoulders. A man
at such a moment would have thought how shall I rouse the house; a
woman would have feared lest the poor young man should fall from his
narrow plank into the depths beneath. Lydia was still too much of a
child for either, and as the first fright passed away, she was filled
with curiosity to see the head appertaining to those young feet. A
sudden presentiment shot through her mind. It seemed to her as if she
saw them wandering over the meadows of the convent and treading upon
certain blue flowers. Quickly did she spring up to shut the window; but
Master Felice had already recognised her: "Ah! so you are back, noble
maiden?" said he cheerily. "I greet you from my airy height."

"You will fall," said Klytia anxiously, "please finish