Elizabeth, peering through the moonlight, saw her sister's form tremble in the convulsion of her sorrow, and smiled a smile of malice.
"The thing is done," she thought; "she cries because the man is going.
Don't cry, Beatrice, don't cry! We will get your plaything back for you.
Oh, with such a bait it will be easy.

He is as sweet on you as you on him." There was something evil, something almost devilish, in this scene of the one watching woman holding a clue to and enjoying the secret tortures of the other, plotting the while to turn them to her innocent rival's destruction and her own advantage.

Elizabeth's jealousy was indeed bitter as the grave.
Suddenly Beatrice ceased sobbing.

She lifted her head, and by a sudden impulse threw out the passion of her heart with all her concentrated strength of mind towards the man she loved, murmuring as she did so some passionate, despairing words which she knew.
At this moment Geoffrey, sleeping soundly, dreamed that he saw Beatrice seated by her window and looking at him with eyes which no earthly obstacle could blind.

She was speaking; her lips moved, but though he could hear no voice the words she spoke floated into his mind-- "Be a god and hold me With a charm! Be a man and fold me With thine arm.
Teach me, only teach, Love! As I ought I will speak thy speech, Love, Think thy thought-- Meet, if thou require it, Both demands, Laying flesh and spirit In thy hands.
That shall be to-morrow Not to-night: I must bury sorrow Out of sight.
Must a little weep, Love, (Foolish me!) And so fall asleep, Love, Loved by thee." Geoffrey heard them in his heart.