Zelida received Sophia’s Bramin: and it was at Sophia’s house that Zelida confer’d with her director; and by a little self-examination, the one could hardly be ignorant of what concerned the other’s Toy: but the whimsical indiscretion of these Toys kept them both in cruel apprehensions. They held themselves as on the point of being unmask’d, and of losing that reputation of virtue, which had cost them fifteen years dissimulation and management, and which now embarassed them very much.

At some moments they would even forfeit their lives, especially Zelida, to be as much blasted as the greatest part of their acquaintance. “What will the world say? What will my husband do?⁠—What! that woman so reserved, so modest, so virtuous, that Zelida, like others, is but⁠—Alas! this thought distracts me!⁠—Yes, I wish I never had any reputation,” cried Zelida in a passion.

She was then with her female friend, who was making the same reflections, but without such violent commotion. Zelida’s last words made her smile. “Laugh, madam, without constraint. Burst out,” said Zelida, touched to the quick. “To be sure you have good cause.”