unconquerable aversion for her husband, surrounded the poor child
with abandoned women, and especially attached to her the beautiful and
attractive Dona Cancha, who is branded by contemporary authors with
the name of a courtesan; then summed up all these lessons in infamy by
prostituting Joan to her own son. The poor girl, polluted by sin before
she knew what life was, threw her whole self into this first passion
with all the ardour of youth, and loved Robert of Cabane so violently,
so madly, that the Catanese congratulated herself on the success of her
infamy, believing that she held her prey so fast in her toils that her
victim would never attempt to escape them.

A year passed by before Joan, conquered by her infatuation, conceived
the smallest suspicion of her lover's sincerity. He, more ambitious than
affectionate, found it easy to conceal his coldness under the cloak of
a brotherly intimacy, of blind submission, and of unswerving devotion;
perhaps he would have deceived his mistress for a longer time had not
Bertrand of Artois fallen madly in love with Joan. Suddenly the bandage
fell from the young girl's eyes; comparing the two with the natural
instinct of a woman beloved which never goes astray, she perceived that
Robert of Cabane loved her for his own sake, while Bertrand of Artois
would give his life to make her happy. A light fell upon her past: she
mentally recalled the circumstances that preceded and accompanied her
earliest love; and a shudder went through her at the thought that she
had been sacrificed to a cowardly seducer by the very woman she had
loved most in the world, whom she had called by the name of mother.

Joan drew back into herself, and wept bitterly. Wounded by a single blow
in all her affections, at first her grief absorbed her; then, roused to
sudden anger, she proudly raised her head, for now her love was changed
to scorn. Robert, amazed at her cold and haughty reception of him,