rable apartment, giving out that ill-health had driven her to that situation for change of air; this account, which her pale countenance and lameness confirmed, evaded all curiosity among those ignorant people:—Agnes never came to her, but they used to meet in the wood frequently; the good creature being busy in finding out some asylum, some convent, where she had not been described, and where she might hope to rest concealed.
The sudden return of the Baron, with an account of the Count's death, his succession to his fortune, with the circumstance of his meeting me, which he related to Agnes when he questioned her if any intelligence had been gained relative to her mistress.—Those occurrences determined Agnes to be ingenuous with Eugenia respecting her father, and persuade her to accept of an asylum with me. Hitherto my father's death, and my return, were unknown to Eugenia, and therefore she had no idea of my being in Suabia, though possibly if she had, whilst
