Consulting with the Marchioness on this subject last night, I intend this day to write, and order a deed to be drawn, agreeable to our design of making her independent, at the same time, I wish not to burthen her feelings with too high a sense of obligation, by settling any very large sum upon her; four hundred a year, English money, paid her quarterly, will enable her to live genteely, should she ever wish to separate from us, and will be a handsome provision for pocket expences, if she does us the favour of continuing under our protection."
"Will you permit me, (said the Count, eagerly) to add another two hundred to her income?" "Indeed I will not, (replied the Marquis,) I think myself as much the guardian of Matilda's honour and delicacy as of her person: no young man should boast any claims upon her, nor shall she be humbled by receiving favours, which if known, might subject her to censure—say no more, my dear Count, (added he, observing he was about to reply,) the Marchioness will not have her protegée under any obligations but to herself." "Shall I be sincere with you, Marquis? (demanded the Count.) "Doubtless, my Lord, you may, and assure yourself of my secresy, if necessary." "Well then, (resumed the Count) I confess to you, that with the Marchioness's protegée, as you call her, I should be the happiest of men: I feel and acknowledge, that she has more than beauty—she has a soul—she has those virtues, those amiable qualities, which must render any man happy: but my dear Marquis, her birth—the scandalous stories promulgated of her in Paris: ah! what can do away with these objections which rise hourly before me, and bar me from happiness and Matilda?" "Since you do me the honour of your confidence, my Lord, 'tis my duty to be candid and explicit. That I entertain the highest opinion of Matilda, is most certain—that I think whoever the man is, who is honoured with her hand, will be a happy one, I also acknowledge; but, my Lord, family
