know to-morrow, but let us return and eat our supper now."
They went down to the supper-room, and were much pleased in beholding Matilda cheerful and perfectly well.
When the company separated, and she was retired to her apartment, she gave way to her own reflections; she could not otherwise account for the impertinence of Mademoiselle De Fontelle, but by supposing she was acquainted with her birth; "Ah! (said she,) I doubt not but Mr Weimar published it at Paris, from motives of revenge and she, who as a relation to the Marchioness, received a thousand civilities, is now despised as an imposter; an orphan, and a dependent on charity; nay, even my benefactors may suffer in the opinion of their friends for introducing me! Good heavens! (cried she) why should I continue in the world—why assume a character and appearance I have no pretensions to? What blamable pride, what meanness,
