An interest so warm, and expressions so condescending in the mouth of a sovereign, could not but produce the desired effect. Montfort obeyed, and visited the Castle of March. He beheld Elizabeth; he investigated her character; she inspired him with esteem, with admiration ... but not with love.—yet it was soon evident ... (will the Countess of Torrenburg ever pardon my assertion?) that Elizabeth had not seen Henry with the same indifference. He felt, that he was preferred; he could not but confess, that the possession of such an angel must be an inestimable treasure; and though the remembrance of Rosanna rendered his heart incapable of any warmer sentiment than friendship, still since that beloved one was lost to him for ever, he resolved not to let his folly throw away the blessing, which offered itself to his acceptance. He determined to fulfill the emperor’s injunctions, and to offer his hand to the only woman, who was worthy to fill Ida’s place in his heart. But he hesitated so long, and took so much time before he made his declaration, that Elizabeth’s parents had already promised her in the most solemn and positive manner to the rich and powerful Count of Torrenburg. In consequence, Montfort was given to understand (though with every possible mark of esteem) that his absence from the Castle of March would be acceptable to its owner. Grieved and vexed at his having so long delayed to explain himself, Henry departed; the heart of Elizabeth accompanied him. Count Egbert had never seemed very anxious for his nephew’s marriage, nor had given himself any trouble, in order to forward his views upon Elizabeth: the fact was, that in spite of the ill success of his former matrimonial speculations, he was at that moment totally engrossed by a new scheme of the same nature; and the person, to whom his views were now directed, was no other than ... the Lady Ida of Werdenberg. He was not only enchanted by her personal charms, but he also took it into his consideration, that after the Count of Torrenburg’s death she would possess very plausible claims upon the valuable domains of Carlsheim and Sargans; claims, which (as the possibility of his own death was an idea, which never by any accident was suffered to enter into his calculations) this silly old man proposed to enforce in their fullest extent. He had already given the Count of Torrenburg some hints of the honour, which he had it in contemplation to confer upon his family. The Count in return gave him to understand, that if his niece had no objection to the match, he should not oppose it: and as the old dotard thought himself irresistible in spite of former disappointments (which might have taught him better) he was on the very point of surprizing Ida with the agreeable intelligence, that she had made a conquest of his heart. It was at this juncture, that the news reached him of his destined uncle’s being on the brink of marriage with the Lady Elizabeth of March.