ter was conveyed to Constantia that very evening, who fainted at
the reading of it; and the next morning she was much more alarmed by two
or three messengers that came to her father's house, one after another,
to inquire if they had heard anything of Theodosius, who, it seems, had
left his chamber about midnight, and could nowhere be found. The deep
melancholy which had hung upon his mind some time before made them
apprehend the worst that could befall him. Constantia, who knew that
nothing but the report of her marriage could have driven him to such
extremities, was not to be comforted. She now accused herself for having
so tamely given an ear to the proposal of a husband, and looked upon the
new lover as the murderer of Theodosius. In short, she resolved to
suffer the utmost effects of her father's displeasure rather than comply
with a marriage which appeared to her so full of guilt and horror. The
father, seeing himself entirely rid of Theodosius, and likely to keep a
considerable portion in his family, was not very much concerned at the
obstinate refusal of his daughter, and did not find it very difficult to
excuse himself upon that account to his intended son-in-law, who had all
along regarded this alliance rather as a marriage of convenience than of
love. Constantia had now no relief but in her devotions and exercises of
religion, to which her affections had so entirely subjected her mind,
that after some years had abated the violence of her sorrows, and settled
her thoughts in a kind of tranquillity, she resolved to pass the
remainder of her days in a convent. Her father was not displeased with a
resolution which would save money in his family, and readily complied
with his daughter's intentions. Accordingly, in the twenty-fifth year of
her age, while her beauty was yet in all its height and bloom, he carried
her to a neighbouring city, in order to look out a sisterhood of nuns
among whom to place his daughter. There was in this place a father of a
convent who was very much renowned for his piety and exemplary life: and
as it is usual in the Romish Church for those who are under any great
affliction, or trouble of mind, to apply themselves to the most eminent
confessors for pardon and consolation, our beautiful votary took the
opportunity of confessing herself to this celebrated father.

We must now return to Theodosius, who, the very morning that the above-
mentioned inquiries had been made after him, arr