I was certain, before I read the conclusion of your letter, that Count Oswald was not far from you: uninfluenced, never could Elizabeth have suffered her hand to trace such words! Go then, ye innocent victims of slander, even from the generous Elizabeth have ye nothing to hope! she terms you “the Damsels of Werdenberg,” without recollecting that _another_ name would have belonged to you, had not fortune robbed you of it in order to confer it upon _her_. Go then, go, thou gentle Constantia; go too, afflicted and much belied Ida; increase the number of the unfortunate ladies of Sargans, and live upon the bounty of the vassals of your forefathers: the heiress of Torrenburg has nothing to bestow upon you, not even unavailing pity; of justice I will not speak. Under what climate of Heaven you now exist, Elizabeth knows not, asks not, cares not! _Elizabeth to Conrad._ I have long remarked one fault in you, my good Abbot; you generally press your point too eagerly, and thus ruin the cause which you support, with those whose natural inclinations would have disposed them otherwise to do what you require. Not that this is the case with _me_; to convince you of which, I now entreat you for the present, and _only_ for the present, to be silent on a subject which (from causes as yet unknown to you) pains my heart most cruelly. I am not ignorant of Constantia’s abode; as to Ida ... yet why should I concern myself about the Damsels of Werdenberg? If (as you assert) I have robbed them of a name which but for me would have belonged to them, _they_ perhaps have deprived me of _another_, which was more precious to me than my life; a name, which was the long-wished-for goal of all my fondest hopes; a name, for which I would have exchanged the high-sounding title of “heiress of Torrenburg,” God knows how willingly! Suffer me to chuse another subject—you seem to be well acquainted with the annals of the family with which I am become connected by marriage; it is certain at least, that neither in your conversations or letters have I ever heard you mention the knights and ladies of the houses of Carlsheim and Sargans, without applying to them some striking epithet. Even in your very last epistles, “the unfortunate ladies,”—“the illustrious ladies of Sargans,”—were mentioned. Who were these remarkable personages, and what were their misfortunes? If it lies in your power to give me any account of them, you will oblige me by making them the subject of your future letters. Otherwise I am necessitated to request a temporary interruption of our correspondence, as I am not desirous of reading more upon the subject which of late has employed your pen. _Conrad to Elizabeth._