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7 must undergo, don't be uneasy, says she, my dear mother, exercise keeps me warm, and labour is fit for my age. In short, my dear lady, she is as good as she is beautiful. My husband and I never speak of her but with tears of affection. What if you were deprived of her? said the Countess. Why, answered the old shepherd, we would be deprived of all that is dear to us in the world; but if she is to be happier for it, we will die content, and our misfortunes shall be our comfort. Oh! may kind heaven heap blessings on her head. ThcreThere [sic] is none so great but what she deserves. I was in hopes that her dear hands would have closed my eyes, for I love her much more than I do my life. Adelaide's coming put an end to the conversation. In one hand she carried a pan of milk, and in the other a basket of fruit; and after courtseying with a grace peculiar to herself, she set about the little household affairs, as she was not the least taken notice of. My dear child, said the Countess, yeu give yourself a deal of trouble. Not at all, madam, I endeavour to fulfil the intention of the best people, whose servant I am, to treat you in the best manner, with what their little can produce; but I am afraid, continued she, whilst she was spreading on a coarse table cloth as white as snow, that you will make but a sorry mcalmeal [sic]. The bread is brown, but very savory: the eggs are new laid, the milk fresh drawn, and the fruit fresh gathered, such as the season affords.

Diligence, attention, and modest deportment in every minute duty of hospitality, were conspicuous in this wonderful shepherdess. After the frugal repast, Count Fonrose and his amiable lady retired