The Count de Bouville rose and left the room to conceal his emotions.
"I will not forgive you, my dear child, (said the Marchioness) if you indulge such desponding ideas, depend upon it happier days await you—trust in Providence, and rejoice you are now free from anxiety; equally under the protection of the ambassadors and the Marquis, Mr. Weimar will not dare to molest you."
The ladies all congratulated Matilda; and, the Marchioness taking her hand, "Come with me into the garden, I must chide you, but I will not do it publicly, though you deserve it." She led her to a little temple, at one end of the garden, and when seated she said to the still silent Matilda, "you do not consider the advantages we have gained." "O, my dear madam, (cried the other, interrupting her) how sensible I am of that kind we have gained!" "Well, well, (resumed the Marchioness) hear me out. We can now take public methods to enquire if there yet exists a being who has any claim to you, without fear of Mr. Weimar, a twelvemonth may make great alterations in his sentiments; should it appear you have no particular relations, he has no legal claim upon you, but from his expenditure for your maintenance and clothes—let him bring in his bill, he shall be paid to the uttermost farthing; you are my adopted child: consider yourself as such, and dare not refuse that trifle for your future expences;—if you utter any ohs! or ahs! if you ever talk of obligations, I will never pardon you: to be cheerful and happy is the only return you can make or I accept." She then placed the deed mentioned by the Marquis, with a fifty pound note, upon the lap of the astonished Matilda, and hastened away to the house.
It was some moments before she recovered herself enough to examine the papers. The contents overwhelmed her with gratitude; she burst into a flood of tears, the papers in her hand, when unexpectedly
