Guido made no reply.
"Come, Aline," Eva said to her friend, "let us arrange our room." With these words she left the spacious hall in which the conversation had been held and entered her apartment. Then, while Aline closed the door after them, she examined the door leading to the room she had assigned to Bertram. To her satisfaction she found it provided with a heavy iron bolt, which she pushed home, and then turned to her friend.
Hitherto she had exerted herself to preserve an appearance of quiet composure, while all the while her heart was beating so violently that she could scarcely bear it. Now that she was at last alone with her friend and there was no need longer to control her emotion, she threw her arms around her and leaned her weary head upon her bosom.
"My poor, poor Eva!" said Aline, with tender sympathy.
"Oh, Aline, I am so wretchedly unhappy!"
With a gentle hand Aline stroked the dark curls from her friend's brow and kissed her. "Cry, my poor Eva, as much as you want to," she said lovingly; "the tears which you have so long restrained will soothe your pain. And then you shall bathe your eyes and compose yourself. Your betrothed must not see that you have been weeping."
"My betrothed! Why do you torture me with that word? You know how from the very depths of my soul I hate it!"
"Then it is your duty to break this miserable engagement," Aline rejoined gravely. "You would not listen to me when you gave your hasty promise, and therefore I have been silent until now, but I cannot bear to see you so unhappy. It is my duty as your friend to advise and to warn you even although I should offend you by doing so. I will not quietly look on when I see you obstinately determined to seal your unhappiness forever!"
"But what shall I do, Aline?"
"You must make up your mind to break the fetters which you yourself forged."