ger even to the name of the Count De Bouville; how comes that to be the case?" "As all possibility of any connexion between the Count and myself was at an end, I conceived there would be an indelicacy in mentioning his former offers to my mother; yet perhaps I was wrong, and ought to have done justice to the sentiments he then honoured me with, as they proved his generosity and nobleness of mind. If I have been wrong, (said she, with a sigh) 'tis not too late to repair the fault, though it can be of no consequence to him now." "Your words astonish me, (cried the Marchioness;) what has the Count De Bouville done to have forfeited your esteem?" "Nothing, madam, (replied she, confused;) he has done nothing to lessen his merit or virtues in my estimation." "I think indeed, (resumed her friend) you must be strangely altered; if it should be so, for I thought you always an enthusiast in gratitude, and surely the man who made you an unreserved offer of his hand, and though rejected, still preserved his affection through many temptations—who has traversed lands and seas in search of you." "Of me, madam! (exclaimed Matilda, surprised;) pardon my interruption, but did you say the Count had been in search of me?" "Doubtless I did, (replied her friend;) can that surprise you; could you suppose we did not inform him, you were in the power of Weimar? or that he knowing it, would not range through the world to find you? I am sorry you do him so little justice, Matilda, for certainly he is entitled to your warmest gratitude, if your heart no longer speaks in his favour." Astonishment overpowered the senses of Matilda for a moment. "He is not then married to Mrs. Courtney?" (said she, faintly.) "To Mrs. Courtney! good God! no; how came you to entertain such a ridiculous idea?"
Joy, transport and unexpected relief from the painful thoughts she long had entertained were now too powerful for her feelings; with difficulty she totter-
