Constantia was a little embarrassed in answering these declarations. Not being in love, she could not easily reconcile the union of two such names as Erwin Melthal, and Ida, Countess of Werdenberg: yet still she could not efface from her memory the solemn vows, which had passed between them; and in particular she could not but lay great stress upon their having been affianced before the altar of St. Engeltruda; a transaction, in which she had herself borne so principal a part. However the sum of her reflections was (though the goodness of her heart made her sigh, as she confest it) that it was fortunate, that Erwin’s death had solved all the difficulties, which would otherwise have arisen; and she could not but fancy, that in this event she saw the hand of Providence, which had preserved from degradation the honour of the illustrious House of Werdenberg. In the mean while the Bishop and Abbot Conrad were consulting, how they might best advance the interests of their young favourites. As they were not influenced by the prejudices, which made the late Countess of Werdenberg refuse all intercourse with the family of Torrenburg, and as they laid no stress upon the before-mentioned prophecy, they soon agreed to take the straight road (which indeed is always the best) and make the generous Frederick of Torrenburg immediately acquainted with the existence and adventures of his long-forgotten relations. The Count was old, and without children; and it was not unlikely, that he would adopt these orphans, and bring them up as the future heiresses of his domains. Under this impression they set forward for his Castle, well provided with letters and other documents to establish the veracity of their assertions. The Abbot has been heard to say, that when the Count was first informed of the nature of their embassy, he started and turned pale; as the Bishop proceeded and made the fact certain beyond the possibility of dispute, this paleness gave place to a burning crimson, and when the tale was finished, the Count sat for a few moments lost in silent meditation; circumstances, from which the friends of the two Sisters augured nothing good to their cause. The event however proved that they were mistaken in imagining, that the generous Frederick would wilfully close his eyes against a truth, because it was unpleasant to him; though what made it so unpleasant to him, they were then at a loss to conceive.