he house where Natura lodged, she was
told he went out in the evening, on the receipt of a billet brought
him by his servant.--This disappointment destroyed all the remains of
temperance had been left in her; she presently guessed the billet came
from no other than Elgidia, doubted not but they were together, and
figured in her mind a scene of tenderness between them so cruel to her
imagination, that frenzy itself scarce exceeded what she endured:--she
rode back with even more precipitation than she had set out, and being
alighted at the gate thro' the great walk, supposing Elgidia had
brought him into her chamber, where, if she found them, thought of
nothing, but sacrificing one or both of them to her resentment.

In this situation of mind, it cannot be imagined she had any thought
about the horses; but her companion having more the power of
reflection, and judging them to be the farmer's, thought it best to
tye them to a tree within the garden, that so they might be secured,
and sent to him in the morning; which having done, and shut the gate,
she was going to follow the abbess, when she met her coming back:--'I
have considered,' said she, 'that my perfidious sister would rather
chuse the close arbour for her rendezvous, than her own chamber, where
there would be more danger of being overheard by the nuns who lie near
her;--go you therefore,' continued she, 'and wait me in my apartment,
while I search the garden.'

The nun obeyed, glad to be eased of this nocturnal attendance, and the
abbess drew near, as softly as she could, to the arbour; and standing
behind the covert of the greens of which it was composed, heard the
consent Elgidia gave to accompany Natura, and saw her quit him, with a
promise of returning, as soon as she had put on a habit somewhat more
proper for travelling.

Had she followed the first dictates of her passion in this stabbing
circumstance, she had either pursued her sister, and inflicted on her
all that vindictive malice could suggest, or run into the arbour, and
discharged some part of her fury on Natura:--each alike shared her
resentment, but divided between both, lost its effects on either:--a
revenge more pleasing, and less unbecoming of a female mind, at length
got the better of those furious resolves;--she thought, that as every
thing favoured such a design, and she was equipped for the purpose, to
take the place of her sister, would afford her an exquisite triumph
over the disappointme