in accepting gifts which draw upon me contempt and derision—I will no longer support it."
Tormented all night by the distress of her situation, she arose unrefreshed, pale, feeble and agitated.
The Marchioness, alarmed at her appearance, insisted upon sending for a physician; the Marquis was going to pull the bell. "Stay, my dear friends, (cried she) I beseech you; 'tis my mind, not my body, that is disordered, and you only have the power to heal it." "Speak your wishes, my dear child, (said the Marchioness;) be assured, if in our power, you may command the grant of them." "On that promise, my dearest benefactress, your poor Matilda founds her hopes of peace." She then repeated the affronts of the preceding evening, and her own conjectures upon it. "I am humbled, my dearest madam, as all false pretenders ought to be, (added she:) I can no longer support
