She is now informed of every thing; and I must acknowledge, I was frequently embarrassed by some questions, with which she every now and then interrupted my narrative. —“Then you are certain, _quite_ certain of having been the first object of Montfort’s affection?”— —“I am to understand then, that the attachment between you was equally strong, and that his whole soul was as much devoted to you, as yours was to him?”— “What? and could he really be so base as to desert you at the very foot of the altar, merely because at that moment he happened to be struck by the charms of one of your bridemaids? This seems to me very strange, my daughter; and me-thinks, it does not well harmonize with the acknowledged probity of Montfort’s former conduct.—If he had not loved you, to be sure he would not have persuaded you to fly with him from your brother’s Castle—and yet, if I recollect right, you mentioned, that his carrying you off prevented your being compelled to espouse the aged Count of Torrenburg, who was then as much the object of your aversion, as (when his virtues became, known to you) he was afterwards the object of your esteem?—You were young, amiable, in distress, partial to Montfort ... it is very possible, that love induced him to advise your flight; but then again it is also possible, that mere sympathy and compassion _might_ have led him to give the very same counsel, and to take the very same step.”— Such was the vexatious mode of arguing and of seeing things adopted by the Abbess. I recapitulated the strong reasons which I had to believe, that in offering me his hand Montfort was prompted by affection.——The Abbess acknowledged their force; but she added—“that it was very easy for that, which was at _first_ nothing more than compassionate interest for the beautiful Elizabeth, to be in time _converted_ into love.”— This compliment so ill-timed put me more out of patience, than her humiliating questions and remarks. It was with difficulty, that I concealed my ill-humour, and hastily endeavoured to change the subject of our discourse. Alas! my dear brother, everyone seems to be in Montfort’s interests, and averse to mine. The decision of my venerable counsellor Albert Reding has just been communicated to me, and I find.... But I will not repeat to you, what he says: what do wealth and power, what do vassals and domains concern me now?—My peace is fled, my heart is broken!— The Abbess was not easily persuaded to quit the subject: and at length she put some enquiries, which cut me to the very heart.—They regarded the friend and companion of my earliest youth, the worthy Richard of Ulmenhorst, whose love I had rejected, solely influenced by my partiality for Montfort. I was thrown into such confusion by this unexpected home-attack, that ... I set all politeness fairly at defiance, and without replying, abruptly spoke upon another subject.