In the first place, she had really loved the young knight with all her heart, and in the next, her sorrow at his absence had proclaimed this far more before the eyes of all, than was now befitting.

She still, however, conducted herself as a wise maiden, reconciled herself to circumstances, and lived on the most friendly terms with Undine, who was looked upon throughout the city as a princess whom Huldbrand had rescued in the forest from some evil enchantment.

When she or her husband were questioned on the matter, they were wise enough to be silent or skilfully to evade the inquiries.

Father Heilmann's lips were sealed to idle gossip of any kind, and moreover, immediately after Huldbrand's arrival, he had returned to his monastery; so that people were obliged to be satisfied with their own strange conjectures, and even Bertalda herself knew no more of the truth than others.
Day by day, Undine felt her affection increase for the fair maiden.
"We must have known each other before," she often used to say to her, "or else, there must be some mysterious connection between us, for one does not love another as dearly as I have loved you from the first moment of our meeting without some cause--some deep and secret cause." And Bertalda also could not deny the fact that she felt drawn to Undine with a tender feeling of confidence, however much she might consider that she had cause for the bitterest lamentation at this successful rival.

Biassed by this mutual affection, they both persuaded--the one her foster-parents, the other her husband--to postpone the day of departure from time to time; indeed, it was even proposed that Bertalda should accompany Undine for a time to castle Ringstetten, near the source of the Danube.
They were talking over this plan one beautiful evening, as they were walking by starlight in the large square of the Imperial city, under the tall trees that enclose it.