In the sphere in which they now moved, every thing appeared strange to them, and consequently disagreeable, from their not being accustomed to such manners and appearances. The splendour of Bishop Sigisbert’s court (at which they now resided) was too dazzling to be pleasant to eyes, which were only used to admire the simple charms of Nature; and when compared with those scenes, in which their childhood had past so happily, everything which now offered itself to their notice seemed ridiculous and frequently disgusting. The Bishop, who felt the greater interest in the welfare of his young wards on account of their simplicity and want of relish for the dissipations of the world, was soon obliged to consent to their retiring from his court, and taking refuge in the tranquillity of a Convent at Zurich. Here Constantia was perfectly at ease; but Ida, who had been always accustomed to liberty, was but half satisfied with the restraints of her abode. Nay, she would have found them insupportable, had not the recollection of Erwin Melthal followed her to the Convent, and made solitude and silence agreeable, by suffering her to indulge unrestrained the melancholy of her heart. In truth, Ida had so little of that lofty spirit, which should have been united with her lofty station, that the remembrance of the son of an humble peasant, who had perished as an undistinguished warrior, still was sacred to her affection; and often did she assure Constantia, that were he still in existence, she would rather have renounced her birth-right than the hope of being one day called his wife. —“I concealed my rank from Erwin,” said she, “that his love might not take the alarm at hearing the proud title of the Countess of Werdenberg: but I will not conceal the affection which I felt, and still feel for this Erwin, this humble peasant’s son, this undistinguished warrior, from any one, should any one hereafter think proper to demand my hand. No! I will avow my passion openly and firmly; and doubtless this confession will be enough to make my noble suitors abandon a girl, whose folly sets so little value on illustrious birth and titles handed down by a long line of ancestors.”—