the last supper

the last supper had had. She would not be burdened with her society for any
consideration. Georgiana should take her own course; and she, Eliza,
would take hers.'
Georgiana, when not unburdening her heart to me, spent most of
her time in lying on the sofa, fretting about the dulness of the
house, and wishing over and over again that her aunt Gibson would send
her an invitation up to town. 'It would be so much better,' she
said, 'if she could only get out of the way for a month or two, till
all was over.' I did not ask what she meant by 'all being over,' but I
suppose she referred to the expected decease of her mother and the
the last supper
gloomy sequel of funeral rites. Eliza generally took no more notice of
her sister's indolence and complaints than if no such murmuring,
lounging object had been before her. One day, however, as she put away
her account-book and unfolded her embroidery, she suddenly took her up
thus-
'Georgiana, a more vain and absurd animal than you was certainly
never allowed to cumber the earth. You had no right to be born, for
you make no use of life. Instead of living for, in, and with yourself,
as a reasonable being ought, you seek only to fasten your feebleness
the last supper