CECILIA

OR

Memoirs of an Heiress

by

FRANCES BURNEY

VOL. III. 

BOOK VIII. _Continued_. 

CHAPTER ii. 

AN EVENT. 

Scarce less unhappy in her decision than in her uncertainty, and everyway dissatisfied with her situation, her views and herself, Cecilia wasstill so distressed and uncomfortable, when Delvile called the nextmorning, that he could not discover what her determination had been, and fearfully enquired his doom with hardly any hope of finding favour. 

But Cecilia was above affectation, and a stranger to art. "I would not, Sir, " she said, "keep you an instant in suspense, when I am no longerin suspense myself. I may have appeared trifling, but I have beennothing less, and you would readily exculpate me of caprice, if halfthe distress of my irresolution was known to you. Even now, when Ihesitate no more, my mind is so ill at ease, that I could neitherwonder nor be displeased should you hesitate in your turn. "

"You hesitate no more?" cried he, almost breathless at the sound ofthose words, "and is it possible--Oh my Cecilia!--is it possible yourresolution is in my favour?"

"Alas!" cried she, "how little is your reason to rejoice! a dejectedand melancholy gift is all you can receive!"

"Ere I take it, then, " cried he, in a voice that spoke joy; pain, andfear all at once in commotion, "tell me if your reluctance has itsorigin in _me_, that I may rather even yet relinquish you, than merelyowe your hand to the selfishness of persecution?"

"Your pride, " said she, half smiling, "has some right to be alarmed, though I meant not to alarm it. No! it is with myself only I am atvariance, with my own weakness and want of judgment that I quarrel, --in _you_ I have all the reliance that the highest opinion of yourhonour and integrity can give me. "

This was enough for the warm heart of Delvile, not only to restorepeace, but to awaken rapture. He was almost as wild with delight, as hehad before been with apprehension, and poured forth his acknowledgmentswith so much fervour of gratitude, that Cecilia imperceptibly grewreconciled to herself, and before she missed her dejection, participated in his contentment. 

She quitted him as soon as she had power, to acquaint Mrs Charlton withwhat had passed, and assist in preparing her to accompany them to thealtar; while Delvile flew to his new acquaintance, Mr Singleton, thelawyer, to request him to supply the place of Mr Monckton in giving heraway. 

All was now hastened with the utmost expedition, and to avoidobservation, they agreed to meet at the church; their desire ofsecrecy, however potent, never urging them to wish the ceremony shouldbe performed in a place less awful. 

When the chairs, however, came, which were to carry the two ladiesthither, Cecilia trembled and hung back. The greatness of herundertaking, the hazard of all her future happiness, the disgracefulsecrecy of her conduct, the expected reproaches of Mrs Delvile, and theboldness and indelicacy of the step she was about to take, all soforcibly struck, and so painfully wounded her, that the moment she wassummoned to set out, she again lost her resolution, and regretting thehour that ever Delvile was known to her, she sunk into a chair, andgave up her whole soul to anguish and sorrow. 

The good Mrs Charlton tried in vain to console her; a sudden horroragainst herself had now seized her spirits, which, exhausted by longstruggles, could rally no more. 

In this situation she was at length surprised by Delvile, whose uneasyastonishment that she had failed in her appointment, was only to beequalled by that with which he was struck at the sight of her tears. Hedemanded the cause with the utmost tenderness and apprehension; Ceciliafor some time could not speak, and then, with a deep sigh, "Ah!" shecried, "Mr Delvile! how weak are we all when unsupported by our ownesteem! how feeble, how inconsistent, how changeable, when our couragehas any foundation but duty!"

Delvile, much relieved by finding her sadness sprung not from any newaffliction, gently reproached her breach of promise, and earnestlyentreated her to repair it. "The clergyman, " cried he, "is waiting; Ihave left him with Mr Singleton in the vestry; no new objections havestarted, and no new obstacles have intervened; why, then, tormentourselves with discussing again the old ones, which we have alreadyconsidered till every possible argument upon them is exhausted?Tranquillize, I conjure you, your agitated spirits, and if the truesttenderness, the most animated esteem, and the gratefullest admiration, can soften your future cares, and ensure your future peace, everyanniversary of this day will recompense my Cecilia for every pang shenow suffers!"

Cecilia, half soothed and half ashamed, finding she had in fact nothingnew to say or to object, compelled herself to rise, and, penetrated byhis solicitations, endeavoured to compose her mind, and promised tofollow him. 

He would not trust her, however, from his sight, but seizing the veryinstant of her renewed consent, he dismissed the chairs, and ordering ahackney-coach, preferred any risk to that of her again wavering, andinsisted upon accompanying her in it himself. 

Cecilia had now scarce time to breathe, before she found herself at theporch of----church. Delvile hurried her out of the carriage, and thenoffered his arm to Mrs Charlton. Not a word was spoken by any of theparty till they went into the vestry, where Delvile ordered Cecilia aglass of water, and having hastily made his compliments to theclergyman, gave her hand to Mr Singleton, who led her to the altar. 

The ceremony was now begun; and Cecilia, finding herself past all powerof retracting, soon called her thoughts from wishing it, and turned herwhole attention to the awful service; to which though she listened withreverence, her full satisfaction in the object of her vows, made herlisten without terror. But when the priest came to that solemnadjuration, _If any man can shew any just cause why they may notlawfully be joined together_, a conscious tear stole into her eye, anda sigh escaped from Delvile that went to her heart: but, when thepriest concluded the exhortation with _let him now speak, or elsehereafter for-ever hold his peace_, a female voice at some distance, called out in shrill accents, "I do!"

The ceremony was instantly stopt. The astonished priest immediatelyshut up the book to regard the intended bride and bridegroom; Delvilestarted with amazement to see whence the sound proceeded; and Cecilia, aghast, and struck with horror, faintly shriekt, and caught hold of MrsCharlton. 

The consternation was general, and general was the silence, though allof one accord turned round towards the place whence the voice issued: afemale form at the same moment was seen rushing from a pew, who glidedout of the church with the quickness of lightning. 

Not a word was yet uttered, every one seeming rooted to the spot onwhich he stood, and regarding in mute wonder the place this form hadcrossed. 

Delvile at length exclaimed, "What can this mean?"

"Did you not know the woman, Sir?" said the clergyman. 

"No, Sir, I did not even see her. "

"Nor you, madam?" said he, addressing Cecilia. 

"No, Sir, " she answered, in a voice that scarce articulated the twosyllables, and changing colour so frequently, that Delvile, apprehensive she would faint, flew to her, calling out, "Let _me_support you!"

She turned from him hastily, and still, holding by Mrs Charlton, movedaway from the altar. 

"Whither, " cried Delvile, fearfully following her, "whither are yougoing?"

She made not any answer; but still, though tottering as much fromemotion as Mrs Charlton from infirmity, she walked on. 

"Why did you stop the ceremony, Sir?" cried Delvile, impatientlyspeaking to the clergyman. 

"No ceremony, Sir, " he returned, "could proceed with such aninterruption. "

"It has been wholly accidental, " cried he, "for we neither of us knowthe woman, who could not have any right or authority for theprohibition. " Then yet more anxiously pursuing Cecilia, "why, " hecontinued, "do you thus move off?--Why leave the ceremony unfinished?--Mrs Charlton, what is it you are about?--Cecilia, I beseech youreturn, and let the service go on!"

Cecilia, making a motion with her hand to forbid his following her, still silently proceeded, though drawing along with equal difficultyMrs Charlton and herself. 

"This is insupportable!" cried Delvile, with vehemence, "turn, Iconjure you!--my Cecilia!--my wife!--why is it you thus abandon me?--Turn, I implore you, and receive my eternal vows!--Mrs Charlton, bringher back, --Cecilia, you _must_ not go!--"

He now attempted to take her hand, but shrinking from his touch, in anemphatic but low voice, she said, "Yes, Sir, I must!--an interdictionsuch as this!--for the world could I not brave it!"

She then made an effort to somewhat quicken her pace. 

"Where, " cried Delvile, half frantic, "where is this infamous woman?This wretch who has thus wantonly destroyed me!"

And he rushed out of the church in pursuit of her. 

The clergyman and Mr Singleton, who had hitherto been wonderingspectators, came now to offer their assistance to Cecilia. She declinedany help for herself, but gladly accepted their services for MrsCharlton, who, thunderstruck by all that had past, seemed almost robbedof her faculties. Mr Singleton proposed calling a hackney coach, sheconsented, and they stopt for it at the church porch. 

The clergyman now began to enquire of the pew-opener, what she knew ofthe woman, who she was, and how she had got into the church? She knewof her, she answered, nothing, but that she had come in to earlyprayers, and she supposed she had hid herself in a pew when they wereover, as she had thought the church entirely empty. 

An hackney coach now drew up, and while the gentlemen were assistingMrs Charlton into it, Delvile returned. 

"I have pursued and enquired, " cried he, "in vain, I can neitherdiscover nor hear of her. --But what is all this? Whither are yougoing?--What does this coach do here?--Mrs Charlton, why do you getinto it?--Cecilia, what are you doing?"

Cecilia turned away from him in silence. The shock she had received, took from her all power of speech, while amazement and terror deprivedher even of relief from tears. She believed Delvile to blame, thoughshe knew not in what, but the obscurity of her fears served only torender them more dreadful. 

She was now getting into the coach herself, but Delvile, who couldneither brook her displeasure, nor endure her departure, forciblycaught her hand, and called out, "You are _mine_, you are my _wife_!--Iwill part with you no more, and go whithersoever you will, I willfollow and claim you!"

"Stop me not!" cried she, impatiently though faintly, "I am sick, I amill already, --if you detain me any longer, I shall be unable to supportmyself!"

"Oh then rest on _me_!" cried he, still holding her; "rest but upon metill the ceremony is over!--you will drive me to despair and to madnessif you leave me in this barbarous manner!"

A crowd now began to gather, and the words bride and bridegroom reachedthe ears of Cecilia; who half dead with shame, with fear, and withdistress, hastily said "You are determined to make me miserable!" andsnatching away her hand, which Delvile at those words could no longerhold, she threw herself into the carriage. 

Delvile, however, jumped in after her, and with an air of authorityordered the coachman to Pall-Mall, and then drew up the glasses, with alook of fierceness at the mob. 

Cecilia had neither spirits nor power to resist him; yet, offended byhis violence, and shocked to be thus publickly pursued by him, herlooks spoke a resentment far more mortifying than any verbal reproach. 

"Inhuman Cecilia!" cried he, passionately, "to desert me at the veryaltar!--to cast me off at the instant the most sacred rites wereuniting us!--and then thus to look at me!--to treat me with thisdisdain at a time of such distraction!--to scorn me thus injuriously atthe moment you unjustly abandon me!"

"To how dreadful a scene, " said Cecilia, recovering from herconsternation, "have you exposed me! to what shame, what indignity, what irreparable disgrace!"

"Oh heaven!" cried he with horror, "if any crime, any offence of minehas occasioned this fatal blow, the whole world holds not a wretch soculpable as myself, nor one who will sooner allow the justice of yourrigour! my veneration for you has ever equalled my affection, and couldI think it was through _me_ you have suffered any indignity, I shouldsoon abhor myself, as you seem to abhor me. But what is it I have done?How have I thus incensed you? By what action, by what guilt, have Iincurred this displeasure?

"Whence, " cried she, "came that voice which still vibrates in my ear?The prohibition could not be on _my_ account, since none to whom I amknown have either right or interest in even wishing it. "

"What an inference is this! over _me_, then, do you conclude this womanhad any power?"

Here they stopt at the lodgings. Delvile handed both the ladies out. Cecilia, eager to avoid his importunities, and dreadfully disturbed, hastily past him, and ran up stairs; but Mrs Charlton refused not hisarm, on which she lent till they reached the drawing-room. 

Cecilia then rang the bell for her servant, and gave orders that apost-chaise might be sent for immediately. 

Delvile now felt offended in his turn; but suppressing his vehemence, he gravely and quietly said "Determined as you are to leave me, indifferent to my peace, and incredulous of my word, deign, at least, before we part, to be more explicit in your accusation, and tell me ifindeed it is possible you can suspect that the wretch who broke off theceremony, had ever from me received provocation for such an action?"

"I know not what to suspect, " said Cecilia, "where every thing is thusinvolved in obscurity; but I must own I should have some difficulty tothink those words the effect of chance, or to credit that their speakerwas concealed without design. "

"You are right, then, madam, " cried he, resentfully, "to discard me! totreat me with contempt, to banish me without repugnance, since I seeyou believe me capable of duplicity, and imagine I am better informedin this affair than I appear to be. You have said I shall make youmiserable, --no, madam, no! your happiness and misery depend not uponone you hold so worthless!"

"On whatever they depend, " said Cecilia, "I am too little at ease fordiscussion. I would no more be daring than superstitious, but none ofour proceedings have prospered, and since their privacy has always beencontrary both to my judgment and my principles, I know not how torepine at a failure I cannot think unmerited. Mrs Charlton, our chaiseis coming; you will be ready, I hope, to set off in it directly?"

Delvile, too angry to trust himself to speak, now walked about theroom, and endeavoured to calm himself; but so little was his success, that though silent till the chaise was announced, when he heard thatdreaded sound, and saw Cecilia steady in her purpose of departing, hewas so much shocked and afflicted, that, clasping his hands in atransport of passion and grief, he exclaimed. "This, then, Cecilia, isyour faith! this is the felicity you bid me hope! this is therecompense of my sufferings, and the performing of your engagement!"

Cecilia, struck by these reproaches, turned back; but while shehesitated how to answer them, he went on, "You are insensible to mymisery, and impenetrable to my entreaties; a secret enemy has had powerto make me odious in your sight, though for her enmity I can assign nocause, though even her existence was this morning unknown to me! Everready to abandon, and most willing to condemn me, you have moreconfidence in a vague conjecture, than in all you have observed of thewhole tenour of my character. Without knowing why, you are disposed tobelieve me criminal, without deigning to say wherefore, you are eagerto banish me your presence. Yet scarce could a consciousness of guiltitself, wound me so forcibly, so keenly, as your suspecting I amguilty!"

"Again, then, " cried Cecilia, "shall I subject myself to a scene ofsuch disgrace and horror? No, never!--The punishment of my error shallat least secure its reformation. Yet if I merit your reproaches, Ideserve not your regard; cease, therefore, to profess any for me, ormake them no more. "

"Shew but to them, " cried he, "the smallest sensibility, shew but forme the most distant concern, and I will try to bear my disappointmentwithout murmuring, and submit to your decrees as to those from whichthere is no appeal: but to wound without deigning even to look at whatyou destroy, --to shoot at random those arrows that are pointed withpoison, --to see them fasten on the heart, and corrode its vitalfunctions, yet look on without compunction, or turn away with colddisdain, --Oh where is the candour I thought lodged in Cecilia! wherethe justice, the equity, I believed a part of herself!"

"After all that has past, " said Cecilia, sensibly touched by hisdistress, "I expected not these complaints, nor that, from me, anyassurances would be wanted; yet, if it will quiet your mind, if it willbetter reconcile you to our separation---"

"Oh fatal prelude!" interrupted he, "what on earth can quiet my mindthat leads to our separation?--Give to me no condescension with anysuch view, --preserve your indifference, persevere in your coldness, triumph still in your power of inspiring those feelings you can neverreturn, --all, every thing is more supportable than to talk of ourseparation!"

"Yet how, " cried she, "parted, torn asunder as we have been, how is itnow to be avoided?"

"Trust in my honour! Shew me but the confidence which I will venture tosay I deserve, and then will that union no longer be impeded, which infuture, I am certain, will never be repented!"

"Good heaven, what a request! faith so implicit would be frenzy. "

"You doubt, then, my integrity? You suspect---"

"Indeed I do not; yet in a case of such importance, what ought to guideme but my own reason, my own conscience, my own sense of right? Pain menot, therefore, with reproaches, distress me no more with entreaties, when I solemnly declare that no earthly consideration shall ever againmake me promise you my hand, while the terror of Mrs Delvile'sdispleasure has possession of my heart. And now adieu. "

"You give me, then, up?"

"Be patient, I beseech you; and attempt not to follow me; 'tis a step Icannot permit. "

"Not follow you? And who has power to prevent me?"

"_I_ have, Sir, if to incur my endless resentment is of any consequenceto you. "

She then, with an air of determined steadiness, moved on; Mrs Charlton, assisted by the servants, being already upon the stairs. 

"O tyranny!" cried he, "what submission is it you exact!--May I noteven enquire into the dreadful mystery of this morning?"

"Yes, certainly. "

"And may I not acquaint you with it, should it be discovered?"

"I shall not be sorry to hear it. Adieu. "

She was now half way down the stairs; when, losing all forbearance, hehastily flew after her, and endeavouring to stop her, called out, "Ifyou do not hate and detest me, --if I am not loathsome and abhorrent toyou, O quit me not thus insensibly!--Cecilia! my beloved Cecilia!--speak to me, at least, one word of less severity! Look at me once more, and tell me we part not for-ever!"

Cecilia then turned round, and while a starting tear shewed hersympathetic distress, said, "Why will you thus oppress me withentreaties I ought not to gratify?--Have I not accompanied you to thealtar, --and can you doubt what I have thought of you?"

"_Have_ thought?--Oh Cecilia!--is it then all over?"

"Pray suffer me to go quietly, and fear not I shall go too happily!Suppress your own feelings, rather than seek to awaken mine. Alas!there is little occasion!--Oh Mr Delvile! were our connection opposedby no duty, and repugnant to no friends, were it attended by noimpropriety, and carried on with no necessity of disguise, --you wouldnot thus charge me with indifference, you would not suspect me ofinsensibility, --Oh no! the choice of my heart would then be its glory, and all I now blush to feel, I should openly and with prideacknowledge!"

She then hurried to the chaise, Delvile pursuing her with thanks andblessings, and gratefully assuring her, as he handed her into it, thathe would obey all her injunctions, and not even attempt to see her, till he could bring her some intelligence concerning the morning'stransaction. 

The chaise then drove off. 

CHAPTER iii. 

A CONSTERNATION. 

The journey was melancholy and tedious: Mrs Charlton, extremelyfatigued by the unusual hurry and exercise both of mind and body whichshe had lately gone through, was obliged to travel very slowly, and tolie upon the road. Cecilia, however, was in no haste to proceed: shewas going to no one she wished to see, she was wholly withoutexpectation of meeting with any thing that could give her pleasure. Theunfortunate expedition in which she had been engaged, left her nownothing but regret, and only promised her in future sorrow andmortification. 

Mrs Charlton, after her return home, still continued ill, and Cecilia, who constantly attended her, had the additional affliction of imputingher indisposition to herself. Every thing she thought conspired topunish the error she had committed; her proceedings were discovered, though her motives were unknown; the Delvile family could not fail tohear of her enterprize, and while they attributed it to her temerity, they would exult in its failure: but chiefly hung upon her mind theunaccountable prohibition of her marriage. Whence that could proceedshe was wholly without ability to divine, yet her surmizes were notmore fruitless than various. At one moment she imagined it some frolicof Morrice, at another some perfidy of Monckton, and at another an idleand unmeaning trick of some stranger to them all. But none of thesesuppositions carried with them any air of probability; Morrice, even ifhe had watched their motions and pursued them to the church, which hisinquisitive impertinence made by no means impossible, could yet hardlyhave either time or opportunity to engage any woman in so extraordinaryan undertaking; Mr Monckton, however averse to the connection, sheconsidered as a man of too much honour to break it off in a manner soalarming and disgraceful; and mischief so wanton in any stranger, seemed to require a share of unfeeling effrontery, which could fall tothe lot of so few as to make this suggestion unnatural and incredible. 

Sometimes she imagined that Delvile might formerly have been affiancedto some woman, who having accidentally discovered his intentions, tookthis desperate method of rendering them abortive: but this was a short-lived thought, and speedily gave way to her esteem for his generalcharacter, and her confidence in the firmness of his probity. 

All, therefore, was dark and mysterious; conjecture was baffled, andmeditation was useless. Her opinions were unfixed, and her heart wasmiserable; she could only be steady in believing Delvile as unhappy asherself, and only find consolation in believing him, also, asblameless. 

Three days passed thus, without incident or intelligence; her timewholly occupied in attending Mrs Charlton; her thoughts all engrossedupon her own situation: but upon the fourth day she was informed that alady was in the parlour, who desired to speak with her. 

She presently went down stairs, --and, upon entering the room, perceivedMrs Delvile!

Seized with astonishment and fear, she stopt short, and, lookingaghast, held by the door, robbed of all power to receive so unexpectedand unwelcome a visitor, by an internal sensation of guilt, mingledwith a dread of discovery and reproach. 

Mrs Delvile, addressing her with the coldest politeness, said, "I fearI have surprised you; I am sorry I had not time to acquaint you of myintention to wait upon you. "

Cecilia then, moving from the door, faintly answered, "I cannot, madam, but be honoured by your notice, whenever you are pleased to confer it. "

They then sat down; Mrs Delvile preserving an air the most formal anddistant, and Cecilia half sinking with apprehensive dismay. 

After a short and ill-boding silence, "I mean not, " said Mrs Delvile, "to embarrass or distress you; I will not, therefore, keep you insuspense of the purport of my visit. I come not to make enquiries, Icome not to put your sincerity to any trial, nor to torture yourdelicacy; I dispense with all explanation, for I have not one doubt tosolve: I _know_ what has passed, I _know_ that my son loves you. "

Not all her secret alarm, nor all the perturbation of her fears, hadtaught Cecilia to expect so direct an attack, nor enabled her to bearthe shock of it with any composure: she could not speak, she could notlook at Mrs Delvile; she arose, and walked to the window, withoutknowing what she was doing. 

Here, however, her distress was not likely to diminish; for the firstsight she saw was Fidel, who barked, and jumped up at the window tolick her hands. 

"Good God! Fidel here!" exclaimed Mrs Delvile, amazed. 

Cecilia, totally overpowered, covered her glowing face with both herhands, and sunk into a chair. 

Mrs Delvile for a few minutes was silent; and then, following her, said, "Imagine not I am making any discovery, nor suspect me of anydesign to develop your sentiments. That Mortimer could love in vain Inever, believed; that Miss Beverley, possessing so much merit, could beblind to it in another, I never thought possible. I mean not, therefore, to solicit any account or explanation, but merely to begyour patience while I talk to you myself, and your permission to speakto you with openness and truth. "

Cecilia, though relieved by this calmness from all apprehension ofreproach, found in her manner a coldness that convinced her of the lossof her affection, and in the introduction to her business a solemnitythat assured her what she should decree would be unalterable. Sheuncovered her face to shew her respectful attention, but she could notraise it up, and could not utter a word. 

Mrs Delvile then seated herself next her, and gravely continued herdiscourse. 

"Miss Beverley, however little acquainted with the state of our familyaffairs, can scarcely have been uninformed that a fortune such as hersseems almost all that family can desire; nor can she have failed toobserve, that her merit and accomplishments have no where been morefelt and admired: the choice therefore of Mortimer she could not doubtwould have our sanction, and when she honoured his proposals with herfavour, she might naturally conclude she gave happiness and pleasure toall his friends. "

Cecilia, superior to accepting a palliation of which she felt herselfundeserving, now lifted up her head, and forcing herself to speak, said"No, madam, I will not deceive you, for I have never been deceivedmyself: I presumed not to expect your approbation, --though in missingit I have for ever lost my own!"

"Has Mortimer, then, " cried she with eagerness, "been strictlyhonourable? has he neither beguiled nor betrayed you?"

"No, madam, " said she, blushing, "I have nothing to reproach him with. "

"Then he is indeed my son!" cried Mrs Delvile, with emotion; "had hebeen treacherous to you, while disobedient to us, I had indisputablyrenounced him. "

Cecilia, who now seemed the only culprit, felt herself in a state ofhumiliation not to be borne; she collected, therefore, all her courage, and said, "I have cleared Mr Delvile; permit me, madam, now, to saysomething for myself. "

"Certainly; you cannot oblige me more than by speaking withoutdisguise. "

"It is not in the hope of regaining your good opinion, --that, I see, islost!--but merely--"

"No, not lost, " said Mrs Delvile, "but if once it was yet higher, thefault was my own, in indulging an expectation of perfection to whichhuman nature is perhaps unequal. "

Ah, then, thought Cecilia, all is over! the contempt I so much fearedis incurred, and though it may be softened, it can never be removed!

"Speak, then, and with sincerity, " she continued, all you wish me tohear, and then grant me your attention in return to the purpose of mypresent journey. "

"I have little, madam, " answered the depressed Cecilia, "to say; youtell me you already know all that has past; I will not, therefore, pretend to take any merit from revealing it: I will only add, that myconsent to this transaction has made me miserable almost from themoment I gave it; that I meant and wished to retract as soon asreflection pointed out to me my error, and that circumstances the mostperverse, not blindness to propriety, nor stubbornness in wrong, led meto make, at last, that fatal attempt, of which the recollection, to mylast hour, must fill me with regret and shame. "

"I wonder not, " said Mrs Delvile, "that in a situation where delicacywas so much less requisite than courage, Miss Beverley should feelherself distressed and unhappy. A mind such as hers could never errwith impunity; and it is solely from a certainty of her innate sense ofright, that I venture to wait upon her now, and that I have any hope toinfluence _her_ upon whose influence alone our whole family must infuture depend. Shall I now proceed, or is there any thing you wish tosay first?"

"No, madam, nothing. "

"Hear me, then, I beg of you, with no predetermination to disregard me, but with an equitable resolution to attend to reason, and a candourthat leaves an opening to conviction. Not easy, indeed, is such a task, to a mind pre-occupied with an intention to be guided by the dictatesof inclination, ---"

"You wrong me, indeed, madam!" interrupted Cecilia, greatly hurt, "mymind harbours no such intention, it has no desire but to be guided byduty, it is wretched with a consciousness of having failed in it! Ipine, I sicken to recover my own good opinion; I should then no longerfeel unworthy of yours; and whether or not I might be able to regainit, I should at least lose this cruel depression that now sinks me inyour presence!"

"To regain it, " said Mrs Delvile, "were to exercise but half yourpower, which at this moment enables you, if such is your wish, to makeme think of you more highly than one human being ever thought ofanother. Do you condescend to hold this worth your while?"

Cecilia started at the question; her heart beat quick with strugglingpassions; she saw the sacrifice which was to be required, and herpride, her affronted pride, arose high to anticipate the rejection; butthe design was combated by her affections, which opposed the indignantrashness, and told her that one hasty speech might separate her fromDelvile for ever. When this painful conflict was over, of which MrsDelvile patiently waited the issue, she answered, with much hesitation, "To regain your good opinion, madam, greatly, truly as I value it, --iswhat I now scarcely dare hope. "

"Say not so, " cried she, "since, if you hope, you cannot miss it. Ipurpose to point out to you the means to recover it, and to tell youhow greatly I shall think myself your debtor if you refuse not toemploy them. "

She stopt; but Cecilia hung back; fearful of her own strength, shedared venture at no professions; yet, how either to support, or disputeher compliance, she dreaded to think. 

"I come to you, then, " Mrs Delvile solemnly resumed, "in the name of MrDelvile, and in the name of our whole family; a family as ancient as itis honourable, as honourable as it is ancient. Consider me as itsrepresentative, and hear in me its common voice, common opinion, andcommon address. 

"My son, the supporter of our house, the sole guardian of its name, andthe heir of our united fortunes, has selected you, we know, for thelady of his choice, and so fondly has, fixed upon you his affections, that he is ready to relinquish us all in preference to subduing them. To yourself alone, then, can we apply, and I come to you--"

"O hold, madam, hold!" interrupted Cecilia, whose courage now revivedfrom resentment, "I know, what you would say; you come to tell me ofyour disdain; you come to reproach my presumption, and to kill me withyour contempt! There is little occasion for such a step; I amdepressed, I am self-condemned already; spare me, therefore, thisinsupportable humiliation, wound me not with your scorn, oppress me notwith your superiority! I aim at no competition, I attempt novindication, I acknowledge my own littleness as readily as you candespise it, and nothing but indignity could urge me to defend it!"

"Believe me, " said Mrs Delvile, "I meant not to hurt or offend you, andI am sorry if I have appeared to you either arrogant or assuming. Thepeculiar and perilous situation of my family has perhaps betrayed meinto offensive expressions, and made me guilty myself of an ostentationwhich in others has often disgusted me. Ill, indeed, can we any of usbear the test of experiment, when tried upon those subjects which callforth our particular propensities. We may strive to be disinterested, we may struggle to be impartial, but self will still predominate, stillshew us the imperfection of our natures, and the narrowness of oursouls. Yet acquit me, I beg, of any intentional insolence, and imaginenot that in speaking highly of my own family, I, mean to depreciateyours: on the contrary, I know it to be respectable, I know, too, thatwere it the lowest in the kingdom, the first might envy it that it gavebirth to such a daughter. "

Cecilia, somewhat soothed by this speech, begged her pardon for havinginterrupted her, and she proceeded. 

"To your family, then, I assure you, whatever may be the pride of ourown, _you_ being its offspring, we would not object. With your merit weare all well acquainted, your character has our highest esteem, andyour fortune exceeds even our most sanguine desires. Strange at onceand afflicting! that not all these requisites for the satisfaction ofprudence, nor all these allurements for the gratification of happiness, can suffice to fulfil or to silence the claims of either! There are yetother demands to which we must attend, demands which ancestry and bloodcall upon us aloud to ratify! Such claimants are not to be neglectedwith impunity; they assert their rights with the authority ofprescription, they forbid us alike either to bend to inclination, orstoop to interest, and from generation to generation their injurieswill call out for redress, should their noble and long unsullied namebe voluntarily consigned to oblivion!"

Cecilia, extremely struck by these words, scarce wondered, since sostrong and so established were her opinions, that the obstacle to hermarriage, though but one, should be considered as insuperable. 

"Not, therefore, to _your_ name are we averse, " she continued, "butsimply to our own more partial. To sink that, indeed, in _any_ other, were base and unworthy:--what, then, must be the shock of mydisappointment, should Mortimer Delvile, the darling of my hopes, thelast survivor of his house, in whose birth I rejoiced as the promise ofits support, in whose accomplishments I gloried, as the revival of itslustre, --should _he_, should, _my_ son be the first to abandon it! togive up the name he seemed born to make live, and to cause in effectits utter annihilation!--Oh how should I know my son when an alien tohis family! how bear to think I had cherished in my bosom the betrayerof its dearest interests, the destroyer of its very existence!"

Cecilia, scarce more afflicted than offended, now hastily answered, "Not for me, madam, shall he commit this crime, not on _my_ accountshall he be reprobated by his family! Think of him, therefore, no more, with any reference to me, for I would not be the cause of unworthinessor guilt in him to be mistress of the universe!"

"Nobly said!" cried Mrs Delvile, her eyes sparkling with joy, and hercheeks glowing with pleasure, "now again do I know Miss Beverley! nowagain see the refined, the excellent young woman, whose virtues taughtme to expect the renunciation even of her own happiness, when found tobe incompatible with her duty!"

Cecilia now trembled and turned pale; she scarce knew herself what shehad said, but, she found by Mrs Delvile's construction of her words, they had been regarded as her final relinquishing of her son. Sheardently wished to quit the room before she was called upon to confirmthe sentence, but, she had not courage to make the effort, nor to rise, speak, or move. 

"I grieve, indeed, " continued Mrs Delvile, whose coldness and austeritywere changed into mildness and compassion, "at the necessity I havebeen under to draw from you a concurrence so painful: but no otherresource was in my power. My influence with Mortimer, whatever it maybe, I have not any right to try, without obtaining your previousconsent, since I regard him myself as bound to you in honour, and onlyto be released by your own virtuous desire. I will leave you, however, for my presence, I see, is oppressive to you. Farewell; and when you_can_ forgive me, I think you _will_. "

"I have nothing, madam, " said Cecilia, coldly, "to forgive; you haveonly asserted your own dignity, and I have nobody to blame but myself, for having given you occasion. "

"Alas, " cried Mrs Delvile, "if worth and nobleness of soul on yourpart, if esteem and tenderest affection on mine, were all which thatdignity which offends you requires, how should I crave the blessing ofsuch a daughter! how rejoice in joining my son to excellence so likehis own, and ensuring his happiness while I stimulated his virtue!"

"Do not talk to me of affection, madam, " said Cecilia, turning awayfrom her; "whatever you had for me is past, --even your esteem is gone, --you may pity me, indeed, but your pity is mixed with contempt, and Iam not so abject as to find comfort from exciting it. "

"O little, " cried Mrs Delvile, looking at her with the utmosttenderness, "little do you see the state of my heart, for never haveyou appeared to me so worthy as at this moment! In tearing you from myson, I partake all the wretchedness I give, but your own sense of dutymust something plead for the strictness with which I act up to mine. "

She then moved towards the door. 

"Is your carriage, madam, " said Cecilia, struggling to disguise herinward anguish under an appearance of sullenness, "in waiting?"

Mrs Delvile then came back, and holding out her hand, while her eyesglistened with tears, said, "To part from you thus frigidly, while myheart so warmly admires you, is almost more than I can endure. Ohgentlest Cecilia! condemn not a mother who is impelled to thisseverity, who performing what she holds to be her duty, thinks theoffice her bitterest misfortune, who forsees in the rage of herhusband, and the resistance of her son, all the misery of domesticcontention, and who can only secure the honour of her family bydestroying its peace!--You will not, then, give me your hand?--"

Cecilia, who had affected not to see that she waited for it, now coldlyput it out, distantly [courtseying], and seeking to preserve hersteadiness by avoiding to speak. Mrs Delvile took it, and as sherepeated her adieu, affectionately pressed it to her lips; Cecilia, starting, and breathing short, from encreasing yet smothered agitation, called out "Why, why this condescension?--pray, --I entreat you, madam!--"

"Heaven bless you, my love!" said Mrs Delvile, dropping a tear upon thehand she still held, "heaven bless you, and restore the tranquillityyou so nobly deserve!"

"Ah madam!" cried Cecilia, vainly striving to repress any longer thetears which now forced their way down her cheeks, "why will you breakmy heart with this kindness! why will you still compel me to love!--when now I almost wish to hate you!"--

"No, hate me not, " said Mrs Delvile, kissing from her cheeks the tearsthat watered them, "hate me not, sweetest Cecilia, though in woundingyour gentle bosom, I am almost detestable to myself. Even the cruelscene which awaits me with my son will not more deeply afflict me. Butadieu, --I must now prepare for him!"

She then left the room: but Cecilia, whose pride had no power to resistthis tenderness, ran hastily after her, saying "Shall I not see youagain, madam?"

"You shall yourself decide, " answered she; "if my coming will not giveyou more pain than pleasure, I will wait upon you whenever you please. "

Cecilia sighed and paused; she knew not what to desire, yet ratherwished any thing to be done, than quietly to sit down to uninterruptedreflection. 

"Shall I postpone quitting this place, " continued Mrs Delvile, "tillto-morrow morning, and will you admit me this afternoon, should I callupon you again?"

"I should be sorry, " said she, still hesitating, "to detain you, "--

"You will rejoice me, " cried Mrs Delvile, "by bearing me in yoursight. "

And she then went into her carriage. 

Cecilia, unfitted to attend her old friend, and unequal to the task ofexplaining to her the cruel scene in which she had just been engaged, then hastened to her own apartment. Her hitherto stifled emotions brokeforth in tears and repinings: her fate was finally determined, and itsdetermination was not more unhappy than humiliating; she was openlyrejected by the family whose alliance she was known to wish; she wascompelled to refuse the man of her choice, though satisfied hisaffections were her own. A misery so peculiar she found hard tosupport, and almost bursting with conflicting passions, her heartalternately swelled from offended pride, and sunk from disappointedtenderness. 

CHAPTER iv. 

A PERTURBATION. 

Cecelia was still in this tempestuous state, when a message was broughther that a gentleman was below stairs, who begged to have the honour ofseeing her. She concluded he was Delvile, and the thought of meetinghim merely to communicate what must so bitterly afflict him, redoubledher distress, and she went down in an agony of perturbation and sorrow. 

He met her at the door, where, before he could speak, "Mr Delvile, " shecried, in a hurrying manner, "why will you come? Why will you thusinsist upon seeing me, in defiance of every obstacle, and in contemptof my prohibition?"

"Good heavens, " cried he, amazed, "whence this reproach? Did you notpermit me to wait upon you with the result of my enquiries? Had I notyour consent--but why do you look thus disturbed?--Your eyes are red, --you have been weeping. --Oh my Cecilia! have I any share in yoursorrow?--Those tears, which never flow weakly, tell me, have they--has_one_ of them been shed upon my account?"

"And what, " cried she, "has been the result of your enquiries?--Speakquick, for I wish to know, --and in another instant I must be gone. "

"How strange, " cried the astonished Delvile, "is this language! howstrange are these looks! What new has come to pass? Has any freshcalamity happened? Is there yet some evil which I do not expect?"

"Why will you not answer first?" cried she; "when _I_ have spoken, youwill perhaps be less willing. "

"You terrify, you shock, you amaze me! What dreadful blow awaits me?For what horror are you preparing me?--That which I have justexperienced, and which tore you from me even at the foot of the altar, still remains inexplicable, still continues to be involved in darknessand mystery; for the wretch who separated us I have never been able todiscover. "

"Have you procured, then, no intelligence?"

"No, none; though since we parted I have never rested a moment. "

"Make, then, no further enquiry, for now all explanation would beuseless. That we _were_ parted, we know, though _why_ we cannot tell:but that again we shall ever meet---"

She, stopt; her streaming eyes cast upwards, and a deep sigh burstingfrom her heart. 

"Oh what, " cried Delvile, endeavouring to take her hand, which shehastily withdrew from him, "what does this mean? loveliest, dearestCecilia, my betrothed, my affianced wife! why flow those tears whichagony only can wring from you? Why refuse me that hand which so latelywas the pledge of your faith? Am I not the same Delvile to whom so fewdays since you gave it? Why will you not open to him your heart? Whythus distrust his honour, and repulse his tenderness? Oh why, givinghim such exquisite misery, refuse him the smallest consolation?"

"What consolation, " cried the weeping Cecilia, "can I give? Alas! it isnot, perhaps, _you_ who most want it!--"

Here the door was opened by one of the Miss Charltons, who came intothe room with a message from her grandmother, requesting to seeCecilia. Cecilia, ashamed of being thus surprised with Delvile, and intears, waited not either to make any excuse to him, or any answer toMiss Charlton, but instantly hurried out of the room;--not, however, toher old friend, whom now less than ever she could meet, but to her ownapartment, where a very short indulgence of grief was succeeded by theseverest examination of her own conduct. 

A retrospection of this sort rarely brings much subject of exultation, when made with the rigid sincerity of secret impartiality: so muchstronger is our reason than our virtue, so much higher our sense ofduty than our performance!

All she had done she now repented, all she had said she disapproved;her conduct, seldom equal to her notions of right, was now infinitelybelow them, and the reproaches of her judgment made her forget for awhile the afflictions which had misled it. 

The sorrow to which she had openly given way in the presence ofDelvile, though their total separation but the moment before had beenfinally decreed, she considered as a weak effusion of tenderness, injurious to delicacy, and censurable by propriety. "His power over myheart, " cried she, "it were now, indeed, too late to conceal, but hispower over my understanding it is time to cancel. I am not to be his, --my own voice has ratified the renunciation, and since I made it to hismother, it must never, without her consent, be invalidated. Honour, therefore, to her, and regard for myself, equally command me to flyhim, till I cease to be thus affected by his sight. "

When Delvile, therefore, sent up an entreaty that he might be againadmitted into her presence, she returned for answer that she was notwell, and could not see any body. 

He then left the house, and, in a few minutes, she received thefollowing note from him. 

_To Miss Beverley_. You drive me from you, Cecilia, tortured withsuspense, and distracted with apprehension, you drive me from you, certain of my misery, yet leaving me to bear it as I may! I would callyou unfeeling, but that I saw you were unhappy; I would reproach youwith tyranny, but that your eyes when you quitted me were swollen withweeping! I go, therefore, I obey the harsh mandate, since my absence isyour desire, and I will shut myself up at Biddulph's till I receiveyour commands. Yet disdain not to reflect that every instant will seemendless, while Cecilia must appear to me unjust, or wound my very soulby the recollection of her in sorrow. MORTIMER DELVILE. 

The mixture of fondness and resentment with which this letter wasdictated, marked so strongly the sufferings and disordered state of thewriter, that all the softness of Cecilia returned when she perused it, and left her not a wish but to lessen his inquietude, by assurances ofunalterable regard: yet she determined not to trust herself in hissight, certain they could only meet to grieve over each other, andconscious that a participation of sorrow would but prove areciprocation of tenderness. Calling, therefore, upon her duty toresist her inclination, she resolved to commit the whole affair to thewill of Mrs Delvile, to whom, though under no promise, she nowconsidered herself responsible. Desirous, however, to shorten theperiod of Delvile's uncertainty, she would not wait till the time shehad appointed to see his mother, but wrote the following note to hastentheir meeting. 

_To the Hon. Mrs Delvile_. MADAM, --Your son is now at Bury; shall Iacquaint him of your arrival? or will you announce it yourself? Informme of your desire, and I will endeavour to fulfil it. As my own Agent Iregard myself no longer; if, as yours, I can give pleasure, or be ofservice, I shall gladly receive your commands. I have the honour to be, Madam, your most obedient servant, CECILIA BEVERLEY. 

When she had sent off this letter, her heart was more at ease, becausereconciled with her conscience: she had sacrificed the son, she hadresigned herself to the mother; it now only remained to heal herwounded pride, by suffering the sacrifice with dignity, and to recoverher tranquility in virtue, by making the resignation without repining. 

Her reflections, too, growing clearer as the mist of passion wasdispersed, she recollected with confusion her cold and sullen behaviourto Mrs Delvile. That lady had but done what she had believed was herduty, and that duty was no more than she had been taught to expect fromher. In the beginning of her visit, and while doubtful of its success, she had indeed, been austere, but the moment victory appeared in view, she became tender, affectionate and gentle. Her justice, therefore, condemned the resentment to which she had given way, and she fortifiedher mind for the interview which was to follow, by an earnest desire tomake all reparation both to Mrs Delvile and herself for that which waspast. 

In this resolution she was not a little strengthened, by seriouslyconsidering with herself the great abatement to all her possiblehappiness, which must have been made by the humiliating circumstance offorcing herself into a family which held all connection with her asdisgraceful. She desired not to be the wife even of Delvile upon suchterms, for the more she esteemed and admired him, the more anxious shebecame for his honour, and the less could she endure being regardedherself as the occasion of its diminution. 

Now, therefore, her plan of conduct settled, with calmer spirits, though a heavy heart, she attended upon Mrs Charlton; but fearing tolose the steadiness she had just acquired before it should be calledupon, if she trusted herself to relate the decision which had beenmade, she besought her for the present to dispense with the account, and then forced herself into conversation upon less interestingsubjects. 

This prudence had its proper effect, and with tolerable tranquility sheheard Mrs Delvile again announced, and waited upon her in the parlourwith an air of composure. 

Not so did Mrs Delvile receive her; she was all eagerness and emotion;she flew to her the moment she appeared, and throwing her arms aroundher, warmly exclaimed "Oh charming girl! Saver of our family! preserverof our honour! How poor are words to express my admiration! howinadequate are thanks in return for such obligations as I owe you!""You owe me none, madam, " said Cecilia, suppressing a sigh; on my sidewill be all the obligation, if you can pardon the petulance of mybehaviour this morning. "

"Call not by so harsh a name, " answered Mrs Delvile, "the keenness of asensibility by which you have yourself alone been the sufferer. Youhave had a trial the most severe, and however able to sustain, it wasimpossible you should not feel it. That you should give up any manwhose friends solicit not your alliance, your mind is too delicate tomake wonderful; but your generosity in submitting, unasked, thearrangement of that resignation to those for whose interest it is made, and your high sense of honour in holding yourself accountable to me, though under no tie, and bound by no promise, mark a greatness of mindwhich calls for reverence rather than thanks, and which I never canpraise half so much as I admire. "

Cecilia, who received this applause but as a confirmation of herrejection, thanked her only by courtsying; and Mrs Delvile, havingseated herself next her, continued her speech. 

"My son, you have the goodness to tell me, is here, --have you seenhim?"

"Yes, madam, " answered she, blushing, "but hardly for a moment. "

"And he knows not of my arrival?" No, --I believe he certainly doesnot. "

"Sad then, is the trial which awaits him, and heavy for me the office Imust perform! Do you expect to see him again?"

"No, --yes, --perhaps--indeed I hardly--" She stammered, and Mrs Delvile, taking her hand, said "Tell me, Miss Beverley, _why_ should you see himagain?"

Cecilia was thunderstruck by this question, and, colouring yet moredeeply, looked down, but could not answer. 

"Consider, " continued Mrs Delvile, "the _purpose_ of any furthermeeting; your union is impossible, you have nobly consented torelinquish all thoughts of it why then tear your own heart, and torturehis, by an intercourse which seems nothing but an ill-judged invitationto fruitless and unavailing sorrow?"

Cecilia was still silent; the truth of the expostulation her reasonacknowledged, but to assent to its consequence her whole heart refused. 

"The ungenerous triumph of little female vanity, " said Mrs Delvile, "isfar, I am sure, from your mind, of which the enlargement and liberalitywill rather find consolation from lessening than from embittering hissufferings. Speak to me, then, and tell me honestly, judiciously, candidly tell me, will it not be wiser and more right, to avoid ratherthan seek an object which can only give birth to regret? an interviewwhich can excite no sensations but of misery and sadness?" Cecilia thenturned pale, she endeavoured to speak, but could not; she wished tocomply, --yet to think she had seen him for the last time, to rememberhow abruptly she had parted from him, and to fear she had treated himunkindly;--these were obstacles which opposed her concurrence, thoughboth judgment and propriety demanded it. 

"Can you, then, " said Mrs Delvile, after a pause, "can you wish to seeMortimer merely to behold his grief? Can you desire he should see you, only to sharpen his affliction at your loss?"

"O no!" cried Cecilia, to whom this reproof restored speech andresolution, "I am not so despicable, I am not, I hope, so unworthy!--Iwill--be ruled by you wholly; I will commit to you every thing;--yet_once_, perhaps, --no more!"--

"Ah, my dear Miss Beverley! to meet confessedly for _once_, --what werethat but planting a dagger in the heart of Mortimer? What were it butinfusing poison into your own?

"If you think so, madam, " said she, "I had better--I will certainly--"she sighed, stammered, and stopt. 

"Hear me, " cried Mrs Delvile, "and rather let me try to convince thanpersuade you. Were there any possibility, by argument, by reflection, or even by accident, to remove the obstacles to our connection, thenwould it be well to meet, for then might discussion turn to account, and an interchange of sentiments be productive of some happyexpedients: but here--"

She hesitated, and Cecilia, shocked and ashamed, turned away her face, and cried "I know, madam, what you would say, --here all is over! andtherefore--" "Yet suffer me, " interrupted she, "to be explicit, sincewe speak upon, this matter now for the last time. Here, then, I say, where not ONE doubt remains, where ALL is finally, though not happilydecided, what can an interview produce? Mischief of every sort, pain, horror, and repining! To Mortimer you may think it would be kind, andgrant it to his prayers, as an alleviation of his misery; mistakennotion! nothing could so greatly augment it. All his passions would beraised, all his prudence would be extinguished, his soul would be tornwith resentment and regret, and force, only, would part him from you, when previously he knew that parting was to be eternal. To yourself--"

"Talk not, madam, of me, " cried the unhappy Cecilia, "what you say ofyour son is sufficient, and I will yield---"

"Yet hear me, " proceeded she, "and believe me not so unjust as toconsider him alone; you, also, would be an equal, though a less stormysufferer. You fancy, at this moment, that once more to meet him wouldsoothe your uneasiness, and that to take of him a farewell, wouldsoften the pain of the separation: how false such reasoning! howdangerous such consolation! acquainted ere you meet that you were tomeet him no more, your heart would be all softness and grief, and atthe very moment when tenderness should be banished from yourintercourse, it would bear down all opposition of judgment, spirit, anddignity: you would hang upon every word, because every word would seemthe last, every look, every expression would be rivetted in yourmemory, and his image in this parting distress would-be painted uponyour mind, in colours that would eat into its peace, and perhaps neverbe erased. "

"Enough, enough, " said Cecilia, "I will not see him, --I will not evendesire it!"

"Is this compliance or conviction? Is what I have said true, or onlyterrifying?"

"Both, both! I believe, indeed, the conflict would have overpoweredme, --I see you are right, --and I thank you, madam, for saving me from ascene I might so cruelly have rued. "

"Oh Daughter of my mind!" cried Mrs Delvile, rising and embracing her, "noble, generous, yet gentle Cecilia! what tie, what connection, couldmake you more dear to me? Who is there like you? Who half so excellent?So open to reason, so ingenuous in error! so rational! so just! sofeeling, yet so wise!"

"You are very good, " said Cecilia, with a forced serenity, "and I amthankful that your resentment for the past obstructs not your lenityfor the present. "

Alas, my love, how shall I resent the past, when I ought myself to haveforeseen this calamity! and I _should_ have foreseen it, had I not beeninformed you were engaged, and upon your engagement built our security. Else had I been more alarmed, for my own admiration would have bid melook forward to my son's. You were just, indeed, the woman he had leastchance to resist, you were precisely the character to seize his verysoul. To a softness the most fatally alluring, you join a dignity whichrescues from their own contempt even the most humble of your admirers. You seem born to have all the world wish your exaltation, and no partof it murmur at your superiority. Were any obstacle but thisinsuperable one in the way, should nobles, nay, should princes offertheir daughters to my election, I would reject without murmuring themost magnificent proposals, and take in triumph to my heart my son'snobler choice!"

"Oh madam, " cried Cecilia, "talk not to me thus!--speak not suchflattering words!--ah, rather scorn and upbraid me, tell me you despisemy character, my family and my connections, --load, load me withcontempt, but do not thus torture me with approbation!"

"Pardon me, sweetest girl, if I have awakened those emotions you sowisely seek to subdue. May my son but emulate your example, and mypride in his virtue shall be the solace of my affliction for hismisfortunes. "

She then tenderly embraced her, and abruptly took her leave. 

Cecilia had now acted her part, and acted it to her own satisfaction;but the curtain dropt when Mrs Delvile left the house, nature resumedher rights, and the sorrow of her heart was no longer disguised orrepressed. Some faint ray of hope had till now broke through thegloomiest cloud of her misery, and secretly flattered her that itsdispersion was possible, though distant: but that ray was extinct, thathope was no more; she had solemnly promised to banish Delvile hersight, and his mother had absolutely declared that even the subject hadbeen discussed for the last time. 

Mrs Charlton, impatient of some explanation of the morning'stransactions, soon sent again to beg Cecilia would come to her. Ceciliareluctantly obeyed, for she feared encreasing her indisposition by theintelligence she had to communicate; she struggled, therefore, toappear to her with tolerable calmness, and in briefly relating what hadpassed, forbore to mingle with the narrative her own feelings andunhappiness. 

Mrs Charlton heard the account with the utmost concern; she accused MrsDelvile of severity, and even of cruelty; she lamented the strangeaccident by which the marriage ceremony had been stopt, and regrettedthat it had not again been begun, as the only means to have renderedineffectual the present fatal interposition. But the grief of Cecilia, however violent, induced her not to join in this regret; she mournedonly the obstacle which had occasioned the separation, and not theincident which had merely interrupted the ceremony: convinced, by theconversations in which she had just been engaged, of Mrs Delvile'sinflexibility, she rather rejoiced than repined that she had put it tono nearer trial: sorrow was all she felt; for her mind was too liberalto harbour resentment against a conduct which she saw was dictated by asense of right; and too ductile and too affectionate to remain unmovedby the personal kindness which had softened the rejection, and the manymarks of esteem and regard which had shewn her it was lamented, thoughconsidered as indispensable. 

How and by whom this affair had been betrayed to Mrs Delvile she knewnot; but the discovery was nothing less than surprising, since, byvarious unfortunate accidents, it was known to so many, and since, inthe horror and confusion of the mysterious prohibition to the marriage, neither Delvile nor herself had thought of even attempting to give anycaution to the witnesses of that scene, not to make it known: anattempt, however, which must almost necessarily have been unavailing, as the incident was too extraordinary and too singular to have anychance of suppression. 

During this conversation, one of the servants came to inform Cecilia, that a man was below to enquire if there was no answer to the note hehad brought in the forenoon. 

Cecilia, greatly distressed, knew not upon what to resolve; that thepatience of Delvile should be exhausted, she did not, indeed, wonder, and to relieve his anxiety was now almost her only wish; she wouldtherefore instantly have written to him, confessed her sympathy in hissufferings, and besought him to endure with fortitude an evil which wasno longer to be withstood: but she was uncertain whether he was yetacquainted with the journey of his mother to Bury, and having agreed tocommit to her the whole management of the affair, she feared it wouldbe dishonourable to take any step in it without her concurrence. Shereturned, therefore, a message that she had yet no answer ready. 

In a very few minutes Delvile called himself, and sent up an earnestrequest for permission to see her. 

Here, at least, she had no perplexity; an interview she had given herpositive word to refuse, and therefore, without a moment's hesitation, she bid the servant inform him she was particularly engaged, and sorryit was not in her power to see any company. 

In the greatest perturbation he left the house, and immediately wroteto her the following lines. 

_To Miss Beverley_. I entreat you to see me! if only for an instant, Ientreat, I implore you to see me! Mrs Charlton may be present, all theworld, if you wish it, may be present, --but deny me not admission, Isupplicate, I conjure you!

I will call in an hour; in that time you may have finished your presentengagement. I will otherwise wait longer, and call again. You will not, I think, turn me from' your door, and, till I have seen you, I can onlylive in its vicinity. M. D. 

The man who brought this note, waited not for any answer. 

Cecilia read it in an agony of mind inexpressible: she saw, by itsstyle, how much Delvile was irritated, and her knowledge of his tempermade her certain his irritation proceeded from believing himself ill-used. She ardently wished to appease and to quiet him, and regrettedthe necessity of appearing obdurate and unfeeling, even more, at thatmoment, than the separation itself. To a mind priding in its purity, and animated in its affections, few sensations can excite keenermisery, than those by which an apprehension is raised of being thoughtworthless or ungrateful by the objects of our chosen regard. To bedeprived of their society is less bitter, to be robbed of our owntranquillity by any other means, is less afflicting. 

Yet to this it was necessary to submit, or incur the only penaltywhich, to such a mind, would be more severe, self-reproach: she hadpromised to be governed by Mrs Delvile, she had nothing, therefore, todo but obey her. 

Yet _to turn_, as he expressed himself, _from the door_, a man who, butfor an incident the most incomprehensible, would now have been solemaster of herself and her actions, seemed so unkind and so tyrannical, that she could not endure to be within hearing of his repulse: shebegged, therefore, the use of Mrs Charlton's carriage, and determinedto make a visit to Mrs Harrel till Delvile and his mother had whollyquitted Bury. She was not, indeed, quite satisfied in going to thehouse of Mr Arnott, but she had no time to weigh objections, and knewnot any other place to which still greater might not be started. 

She wrote a short letter to Mrs Delvile, acquainting her with herpurpose, and its reason, and repeating her assurances that she would beguided by her implicitly; and then, embracing Mrs Charlton, whom sheleft to the care of her grand-daughters, she got into a chaise, accompanied only by her maid, and one man and horse, and ordered thepostilion to drive to Mr Arnott's. 

CHAPTER v. 

A COTTAGE. 

The evening was already far advanced, and before she arrived at the endof her little journey it was quite dark. When they came within a mileof Mr Arnott's house, the postilion, in turning too suddenly from theturnpike to the cross-road, overset the carriage. The accident, however, occasioned no other mischief than delaying their proceeding, and Cecilia and her maid were helped out of the chaise unhurt. Theservants, assisted by a man who was walking upon the road, beganlifting it up; and Cecilia, too busy within to be attentive to whatpassed without, disregarded what went forward, till she heard herfootman call for help. She then hastily advanced to enquire what wasthe matter, and found that the passenger who had lent his aid, had, byworking in the dark, unfortunately slipped his foot under one of thewheels, and so much hurt it, that without great pain he could not putit to the ground. 

Cecilia immediately desired that the sufferer might be carried to hisown home in the chaise, while she and the maid walked on to MrArnott's, attended by her servant on horseback. 

This little incident proved of singular service to her upon firstentering the house; Mrs Harrel was at supper with her brother, andhearing the voice of Cecilia in the hall, hastened with the extremestsurprise to enquire what had occasioned so late a visit; followed by MrArnott, whose amazement was accompanied with a thousand othersensations too powerful for speech. Cecilia, unprepared with anyexcuse, instantly related the adventure she had met with on the road, which quieted their curiosity, by turning their attention to herpersonal safety. They ordered a room to be prepared for her, entreatedher to go to rest with all speed, and postpone any further account tillthe next day. With this request she most gladly complied, happy to bespared the embarrassment of enquiry, and rejoiced to be relieved fromthe fatigue of conversation. Her night was restless and miserable: toknow how Delvile would bear her flight was never a moment from herthoughts, and to hear whether he would obey or oppose his mother washer incessant wish. She was fixt, however, to be faithful in refusingto see him, and at least to suffer nothing new from her own enterprizeor fault. 

Early in the morning Mrs Harrel came to see her. She was eager to learnwhy, after invitations repeatedly refused, she was thus suddenlyarrived without any; and she was still more eager to talk of herself, and relate the weary life she led thus shut up in the country, andconfined to the society of her brother. 

Cecilia evaded giving any immediate answer to her questions, and MrsHarrel, happy in an opportunity to rehearse her own complaints, soonforgot that she had asked any, and, in a very short time, wasperfectly, though imperceptibly, contented to be herself the onlysubject upon which they conversed. 

But not such was the selfishness of Mr Arnott; and Cecilia, when shewent down to breakfast, perceived with the utmost concern that he hadpassed a night as sleepless as her own. A visit so sudden, sounexpected, and so unaccountable, from an object that no discouragementcould make him think of with indifference, had been a subject to him ofconjecture and wonder that had revived all the hopes and the fearswhich had lately, though still unextinguished, lain dormant. Theenquiries, however, which his sister had given up, he ventured not torenew, and thought himself but too happy in her presence, whatevermight be the cause of her visit. 

He perceived, however, immediately, the sadness that hung upon hermind, and his own was redoubled by the sight: Mrs Harrel, also, sawthat she looked ill, but attributed it to the fatigue and fright of thepreceding evening, well knowing that a similar accident would have madeher ill herself, or fancy that she was so. 

During breakfast, Cecilia sent for the postilion, to enquire of him howthe man had fared, whose good-natured assistance in their distress hadbeen so unfortunate to himself. He answered that he had turned out tobe a day labourer, who lived about half a mile off. And then, partly togratify her own humanity, and partly to find any other employment forherself and friends than uninteresting conversation, she proposed thatthey should all walk to the poor man's habitation, and offer him someamends for the injury he had received. This was readily assented to, and the postilion directed them whither to go. The place was a cottage, situated upon a common; they entered it without ceremony, and found aclean looking woman at work. 

Cecilia enquired for her husband, and was told that he was gone out today-labour. 

"I am very glad to hear it, " returned she; "I hope then he has got thebetter of the accident he met with last night?"

"It was not him, madam, " said the woman, "met with the accident, it wasJohn;--there he is, working in the garden. "

To the garden then they all went, and saw him upon the ground, weeding. 

The moment they approached he arose, and, without speaking, began tolimp, for he could hardly walk; away. 

"I am sorry, master, " said Cecilia, "that you are so much hurt. Haveyou had anything put to your foot?"

The man made no answer, but still turned away from her; a glance, however, of his eye, which the next instant he fixed upon the ground, startled her; she moved round to look at him again, --and perceived MrBelfield!

"Good God!" she exclaimed; but seeing him still retreat, sherecollected in a moment how little he would be obliged to her forbetraying him, and suffering him to go on, turned back to her party, and led the way again into the house. 

As soon as the first emotion of her surprise was over, she enquired howlong John had belonged to this cottage, and what was his way of life. 

The woman answered he had only been with them a week, and that he wentout to day-labour with her husband. 

Cecilia then, finding their stay kept him from his employment, andwilling to save him the distress of being seen by Mr Arnott or MrsHarrel, proposed their returning home. She grieved most sincerely atbeholding in so melancholy an occupation a young man of such talentsand abilities; she wished much to assist him, and began considering bywhat means it might be done, when, as they were walking from thecottage, a voice at some distance called out "Madam! Miss Beverley!"and, looking round, to her utter amazement she saw Belfieldendeavouring to follow her. 

She instantly stopt, and he advanced, his hat in his hand, and hiswhole air indicating he sought not to be disguised. 

Surprised at this sudden change of behaviour, she then stept forward tomeet him, accompanied by her friends: but when they came up to eachother, she checked her desire of speaking, to leave him fully atliberty to make himself known, or keep concealed. 

He bowed with a look of assumed gaiety and ease, but the deep scarletthat tinged his whole face manifested his internal confusion; and in avoice that attempted to sound lively, though its tremulous accentsbetrayed uneasiness and distress, he exclaimed, with a forced smile, "Is it possible Miss Beverley can deign to notice a poor miserable day-labourer such as I am? how will she be justified in the beau monde, when even the sight of such a wretch ought to fill her with horror?Henceforth let hysterics be blown to the winds, and let nerves bediscarded from the female vocabulary, since a lady so young and faircan stand this shock without hartshorn or fainting!"

"I am happy, " answered Cecilia, "to find your spirits so good; yet myown, I must confess, are not raised by seeing you in this strangesituation. "

"My spirits!" cried he, with an air of defiance, "never were theybetter, never so good as at this moment. Strange as seems my situation, it is all that I wish; I have found out, at last, the true secret ofhappiness! that secret which so long I pursued in vain, but whichalways eluded my grasp, till the instant of despair arrived, when, slackening my pace, I gave it up as a phantom. Go from me, I cried, Iwill be cheated no more! thou airy bubble! thou fleeting shadow! I willlive no longer in thy sight, since thy beams dazzle without warming me!Mankind seems only composed as matter for thy experiments, and I willquit the whole race, that thy delusions may be presented to me nomore!"

This romantic flight, which startled even Cecilia, though acquaintedwith his character, gave to Mrs Harrel and Mr Arnott the utmostsurprize; his appearance, and the account they had just heard of him, having by no means prepared them for such sentiments or such language. 

"Is then this great secret of happiness, " said Cecilia, "nothing, atlast, but total seclusion from the world?"

"No, madam, " answered he, "it is Labour with Independence. "

Cecilia now wished much to ask some explanation of his affairs, but wasdoubtful whether he would gratify her before Mrs Harrel and Mr Arnott, and hurt to keep him standing, though he leant upon a stick; she toldhim, therefore, she would at present detain him no longer, butendeavour again to see him before she quitted her friends. 

Mr Arnott then interfered, and desired his sister would entreat MissBeverley to invite whom she pleased to his house. 

Cecilia thanked him, and instantly asked Belfield to call upon her inthe afternoon. 

"No, madam, no, " cried he, "I have done with visits and society! I willnot so soon break through a system with much difficulty formed, whenall my future tranquility depends upon adhering to it. Theworthlessness of mankind has disgusted me with the world, and myresolution in quitting it shall be immoveable as its baseness. "

"I must not venture then, " said Cecilia, "to enquire--"

"Enquire, madam, " interrupted he, with quickness, "what you please:there is nothing I will not answer to you, --to this lady, to thisgentleman, to any and to every body. What can I wish to conceal, whereI have nothing to gain or to lose? When first, indeed, I saw you, Iinvoluntarily shrunk; a weak shame for a moment seized me, I feltfallen and debased, and I wished to avoid you: but a littlerecollection brought me back to my senses, And where, cried I, is thedisgrace of exercising for my subsistence the strength with which I amendued? and why should I blush to lead the life which uncorruptedNature first prescribed to man?"

"Well, then, " said Cecilia, more and more interested to hear him, "ifyou will not visit us, will you at least permit us to return with youto some place where you can be seated?"

"I will with pleasure, " cried he, "go to any place where you may beseated yourselves; but for me, I have ceased to regard accommodation orinconvenience. "

They then all went back to the cottage, which was now empty, the womanbeing out at work. 

"Will you then, Sir, " said Cecilia, "give me leave to enquire whetherLord Vannelt is acquainted with your retirement, and if it will notmuch surprize and disappoint him?"

"Lord Vannelt, " cried he, haughtily, "has no right to be surprised. Iwould have quitted _his_ house, if no other, not even this cottage, hada roof to afford me shelter!"

"I am sorry, indeed, to hear it, " said Cecilia; "I had hoped he wouldhave known your value, and merited your regard. "

"Ill-usage, " answered he, "is as hard to relate as to be endured. Thereis commonly something pitiful in a complaint; and though oppression ina general sense provokes the wrath of mankind, the investigation of itsminuter circumstances excites nothing but derision. Those who give theoffence, by the worthy few may be hated; but those who receive it, bythe world at large will be despised. Conscious of this, I disdainedmaking any appeal; myself the only sufferer, I had a right to be theonly judge, and, shaking off the base trammels of interest andsubjection, I quitted the house in silent indignation, not chusing toremonstrate, where I desired not to be reconciled. "

"And was there no mode of life, " said Cecilia, "to adopt, but livingwith Lord Vannelt, or giving up the whole world?"

"I weighed every thing maturely, " answered he, "before I made mydetermination, and I found it so much, the most eligible, that I amcertain I can never repent it. I had friends who would with pleasurehave presented me to some other nobleman; but my whole heart revoltedagainst leading that kind of life, and I would not, therefore, idlyrove from one great man to another, adding ill-will to disgrace, andpursuing hope in defiance of common sense; no; when I quitted LordVannelt, I resolved to give up patronage for ever. 

"I retired to private lodgings to deliberate what next could be done. Ihad lived in many ways, I had been unfortunate or imprudent in all. Thelaw I had tried, but its rudiments were tedious and disgusting; thearmy, too, but there found my mind more fatigued with indolence, thanmy body with action; general dissipation had then its turn, but theexpence to which it led was ruinous, and self-reproach baffled pleasurewhile I pursued it; I have even--yes, there are few things I have leftuntried, --I have even, --for why now disguise it?--"

He stopt and coloured, but in a quicker voice presently proceeded. 

"Trade, also, has had its share in my experiments; for that, in truth, I was originally destined, --but my education had ill suited me to sucha destination, and the trader's first maxim I reversed, in lavishingwhen I ought to have accumulated. 

"What, then, remained for me? to run over again the same irksome roundI had not patience, and to attempt any thing new I was unqualified:money I had none; my friends I could bear to burthen no longer; afortnight I lingered in wretched irresolution, --a simple accident atthe end of it happily settled me; I was walking, one morning, in HydePark, forming a thousand plans for my future life, but quarrelling withthem all; when a gentleman met me on horseback, from whom, at my LordVannelt's, I had received particular civilities; I looked another waynot to be seen by him, and the change in my dress since I left hisLordship's made me easily pass unnoticed. He had rode on, however, buta few yards, before, by some accident or mismanagement, he had a fallfrom his horse. Forgetting all my caution, I flew instantly to hisassistance; he was bruised, but not otherwise hurt; I helpt him up, andhe leant 'pon my arm; in my haste of enquiring how he had fared, Icalled him by his name. He knew me, but looked surprised at myappearance; he was speaking to me, however, with kindness, when seeingsome gentlemen of his acquaintance gallopping up to him, he hastilydisengaged himself from me, and instantly beginning to recount to themwhat had happened, he sedulously looked another way, and joining hisnew companions, walked off without taking further notice of me. For amoment I was almost tempted to trouble him to come back; but a littlerecollection told me how ill he deserved my resentment, and bid metransfer it for the future from the pitiful individual to the worthlesscommunity. 

"Here finished my deliberation; the disgust to the world which I hadalready conceived, this little incident confirmed; I saw it was onlymade for the great and the rich;--poor, therefore, and low, what had Ito do in it? I determined to quit it for ever, and to end everydisappointment, by crushing every hope. 

"I wrote to Lord Vannelt to send my trunks to my mother; I wrote to mymother that I was well, and would soon let her hear more: I then paidoff my lodgings, and 'shaking the dust from my feet, ' bid a long adieuto London; and, committing my route to chance, strole on into thecountry, without knowing or caring which way. 

"My first thought was simply to seek retirement, and to depend for myfuture repose upon nothing but a total seclusion from society: but myslow method of travelling gave me time for reflection, and reflectionsoon showed me the error of this notion. 

"Guilt, cried I, may, indeed, be avoided by solitude; but will misery?will regret? will deep dejection of mind? no, they will follow moreassiduously than ever; for what is there to oppose them, where neitherbusiness occupies the time, nor hope the imagination? where the pasthas left nothing but resentment, and the future opens only to a dismal, uninteresting void? No stranger to life, I knew human nature could notexist on such terms; still less a stranger to books, I respected thevoice of wisdom and experience in the first of moralists, and mostenlightened of men, [Footnote: Dr Johnson. ] and reading the letter ofCowley, I saw the vanity and absurdity of _panting after solitude_. [Footnote: Life of Cowley, p. 34. ]

"I sought not, therefore, a cell; but, since I purposed to live formyself, I determined for myself also to think. Servility of imitationhas ever been as much my scorn as servility of dependence; I resolved, therefore, to strike out something new, and no more to retire as everyother man had retired, than to linger in the world as every other manhad lingered. 

"The result of all you now see. I found out this cottage, and took upmy abode in it. I am here out of the way of all society, yet avoid thegreat evil of retreat, _having nothing to do_. I am constantly, notcapriciously employed, and the exercise which benefits my health, imperceptibly raises my spirits in despight of adversity. I am removedfrom all temptation, I have scarce even the power to do wrong; I haveno object for ambition, for repining I have no time:--I have, foundout, I repeat, the true secret of happiness, Labour with Independence. "

He stopt; and Cecilia, who had listened to this narrative with amixture of compassion, admiration and censure, was too much struck withits singularity to be readily able to answer it. Her curiosity to hearhim had sprung wholly from her desire to assist him, and she hadexpected from his story to gather some hint upon which her servicesmight be offered. But none had occurred; he professed himself fullysatisfied with his situation; and though reason and probabilitycontradicted the profession, she could not venture to dispute it withany delicacy or prudence. 

She thanked him, therefore, for his relation, with many apologies forthe trouble she had given him, and added, "I must not express myconcern for misfortunes which you seem to regard as conducive to yourcontentment, nor remonstrate at the step you have taken, since you havebeen led to it by choice, not necessity: but yet, you must pardon me ifI cannot help hoping I shall some time see you happier, according tothe common, however vulgar ideas of the rest of the world. "

"No, never, never! I am sick of mankind, not from theory, butexperience; and the precautions I have taken against mental fatigue, will secure me from repentance, or any desire of change; for it is notthe active, but the indolent who weary; it is not the temperate, butthe pampered who are capricious. "

"Is your sister, Sir, acquainted with this change in your fortune andopinions?"

"Poor girl, no! She and her unhappy mother have borne but too long withmy enterprizes and misfortunes. Even yet they would sacrifice whateverthey possess to enable me to play once more the game so often lost; butI will not abuse their affection, nor suffer them again to be slaves tomy caprices, nor dupes to their own delusive expectations. I have sentthem word I am happy; I have not yet told them how or where. I fearmuch the affliction of their disappointment, and, for a while, shallconceal from them my situation, which they would fancy was disgraceful, and grieve at as cruel. "

"And is it not cruel?" said Cecilia, "is labour indeed so sweet? andcan you seriously derive happiness from what all others consider asmisery?"

"Not sweet, " answered he, "in itself; but sweet, most sweet andsalutary in its effects. When I work, I forget all the world; myprojects for the future, my disappointments from the past. Mentalfatigue is overpowered by personal; I toil till I require rest, andthat rest which nature, not luxury demands, leads not to idlemeditation, but to sound, heavy, necessary sleep. I awake the nextmorning to the same thought-exiling business, work again till my powersare exhausted, and am relieved again at night by the same health-recruiting insensibility. "

"And if this, " cried Cecilia, "is the life of happiness, why have we somany complaints of the sufferings of the poor, and why so eternally dowe hear of their hardships and distress?"

"They have known no other life. They are strangers, therefore, to thefelicity of their lot. Had they mingled in the world, fed high theirfancy with hope, and looked forward with expectation of enjoyment; hadthey been courted by the great, and offered with profusion adulationfor their abilities, yet, even when starving, been offered nothingelse!--had they seen an attentive circle wait all its entertainmentfrom their powers, yet found themselves forgotten as soon as out ofsight, and perceived themselves avoided when no longer buffoons!--Ohhad they known and felt provocations such as these, how gladly wouldtheir resentful spirits turn from the whole unfeeling race, and howwould they respect that noble and manly labour, which at oncedisentangles them from such subjugating snares, and enables them to flythe ingratitude they abhor! Without the contrast of vice, virtueunloved may be lovely; without the experience of misery, happiness issimply a dull privation of evil. "

"And are you so content, " cried Cecilia, "with your present situation, as even to think it offers you reparation for your past sufferings?"

"Content!" repeated he with energy, "O more than content, I am proud ofmy present situation! I glory in chewing to the world, glory still morein shewing to myself, that those whom I cannot but despise I will notscruple to defy, and that where I have been treated unworthily, I willscorn to be obliged. "

"But will you pardon me, " said Cecilia, "should I ask again, why inquitting Lord Vannelt, you concluded no one else worthy a trial?"

"Because it was less my Lord Vannelt, madam, than my own situation, that disgusted me: for though I liked not his behaviour, I found him aman too generally esteemed to flatter myself better usage would awaitme in merely changing my abode, while my station was the same. Ibelieve, indeed, he never meant to offend me; but I was offended themore that he should think me an object to receive indignity withoutknowing it. To have had this pointed out to him, would have been atonce mortifying and vain; for delicacy, like taste, can only partiallybe taught, and will always be superficial and erring where it is notinnate. Those wrongs, which though too trifling to resent, are toohumiliating to be borne, speech can convey no idea of; the soul mustfeel, or the understanding can never comprehend them. "

"But surely, " said Cecilia, "though people of refinement are rare, theyyet exist; why, then, remove yourself from the possibility of meetingwith them?"

"Must I run about the nation, " cried he, "proclaiming my distress, anddescribing my temper? telling the world that though dependent I demandrespect as well as assistance; and publishing to mankind, that thoughpoor I will accept no gifts if offered with contumely? Who will listento such an account? who will care for my misfortunes, but as they mayhumble me to his service? Who will hear my mortifications, but to say Ideserve them? what has the world to do with my feelings andpeculiarities? I know it too well to think calamity will soften it; Ineed no new lessons to instruct me that to conquer affliction is morewise than to relate it. "

"Unfortunate as you have been, " said Cecilia, "I cannot wonder at yourasperity; but yet, it is surely no more than justice to acknowledge, that hard-heartedness to distress is by no means the fault of thepresent times: on the contrary, it is scarce sooner made known, thanevery one is ready to contribute to its relief. "

"And how contribute?" cried he, "by a paltry donation of money? Yes, the man whose only want is a few guineas, may, indeed, obtain them; buthe who asks kindness and protection, whose oppressed spirit calls forconsolation even more than his ruined fortune for repair, how is hisstruggling soul, if superior to his fate, to brook the ostentation ofpatronage, and the insolence of condescension? Yes, yes, the world willsave the poor beggar who is starving; but the fallen wretch, who willnot cringe for his support, may consume in his own wretchedness withoutpity and without help!"

Cecilia now saw that the wound his sensibility had received was toopainful for argument, and too recent immediately to be healed. Sheforbore, therefore, to detain him any longer, but expressing her bestwishes, without venturing to hint at her services, she arose, and theyall took their leave;--Belfield hastening, as they went, to return tothe garden, where, looking over the hedge as they passed, they saw himemployed again in weeding, with the eagerness of a man who pursues hisfavourite occupation. 

Cecilia half forgot her own anxieties and sadness, in the concern whichshe felt for this unfortunate and extraordinary young man. She wishedmuch to devise some means for drawing him from a life of such hardshipand obscurity; but what to a man thus "jealous in honour, " thusscrupulous in delicacy, could she propose, without more risk ofoffence, than probability of obliging? His account had, indeed, convinced her how much he stood in need of assistance, but it had shewnher no less how fastidious he would be in receiving it. 

Nor was she wholly without fear that an earnest solicitude to servehim, his youth, talents, and striking manners considered, mightoccasion even in himself a misconstruction of her motives, such as shealready had given birth to in his forward and partial mother. 

The present, therefore, all circumstances weighed, seemed no season forher liberality, which she yet resolved to exert the first moment it wasunopposed by propriety. 

CHAPTER vi. 

A CONTEST. 

The rest of the day was passed in discussing this adventure; but in theevening, Cecilia's interest in it was all sunk, by the reception of thefollowing letter from Mrs Delvile. 

_To Miss Beverley_. 

I grieve to interrupt the tranquillity of a retirement so judiciouslychosen, and I lament the necessity of again calling to trial the virtueof which the exertion, though so captivating, is so painful; but alas, my excellent young friend, we came not hither to enjoy, but to suffer;and happy only are those whose sufferings have neither by folly beensought, nor by guilt been merited, but arising merely from theimperfection of humanity, have been resisted with fortitude, or enduredwith patience. 

I am informed of your virtuous steadiness, which corresponds with myexpectations, while it excites my respect. All further conflict I hadhoped to have saved you; and to the triumph of your goodness I hadtrusted for the recovery of your peace: but Mortimer has disappointedme, and our work is still unfinished. 

He avers that he is solemnly engaged to you, and in pleading to me hishonour, he silences both expostulation and authority. From your ownwords alone will he acknowledge his dismission; and notwithstanding myreluctance to impose upon you this task, I cannot silence or quiet himwithout making the request. 

For a purpose such as this, can you, then, admit us? Can you bear withyour own lips to confirm the irrevocable decision? You will feel, I amsure, for the unfortunate Mortimer, and it was earnestly my desire tospare you the sight of his affliction; yet such is my confidence inyour prudence, that since I find him bent upon seeing you, I am notwithout hope, that from witnessing the greatness of your mind, theinterview may rather calm than inflame him. 

This proposal you will take into consideration, and if you are able, upon such terms, to again meet my son, we will wait upon you together, where and when you will appoint; but if the gentleness of your naturewill make the effort too severe for you, scruple not to decline it, forMortimer, when he knows your pleasure, will submit to it as he ought. 

Adieu, most amiable and but too lovely Cecilia; whatever you determine, be sure of my concurrence, for nobly have you earned, and ever must youretain, the esteem, the affection, and the gratitude of AUGUSTADELVILE. 

"Alas, " cried Cecilia, "when shall I be at rest? when cease to bepersecuted by new conflicts! Oh why must I so often, so cruelly, thoughso reluctantly, reject and reprove the man who of all men I wish toaccept and to please!"

But yet, though repining at this hard necessity, she hesitated not amoment in complying with Mrs Delvile's request, and immediately sent ananswer that she would meet her the next morning at Mrs Charlton's. 

She then returned to the parlour, and apologized to Mrs Harrel and MrArnott for the abruptness of her visit, and the suddenness of herdeparture. Mr Arnott heard her in silent dejection; and Mrs Harrel usedall the persuasion in her power to prevail with her to stay, herpresence being some relief to her solitude: but finding it ineffectual, she earnestly pressed her to hasten her entrance into her own house, that their absence might be shortened, and their meeting moresprightly. 

Cecilia passed the night in planning her behaviour for the next day;she found how much was expected from her by Mrs Delvile, who had evenexhorted her to decline the interview if doubtful of her own strength. Delvile's firmness in insisting the refusal should come directly fromherself, surprised, gratified and perplexed her in turn; she hadimagined, that from the moment of the discovery, he would implicitlyhave submitted to the award of a parent at once so reverenced and sobeloved, and how he had summoned courage to contend with her she couldnot conjecture: yet that courage and that contention astonished notmore than they soothed her, since, from her knowledge of his filialtenderness, she considered them as the most indubitable proofs she hadyet received of the fervour and constancy of his regard for her. Butwould he, when she had ratified the decision of his mother, forbear allfurther struggle, and for ever yield up all pretensions to her? thiswas the point upon which her uncertainty turned, and the ruling subjectof her thoughts and meditation. 

To be steady, however, herself, be his conduct what it might, wasinvariably her intention, and was all her ambition: yet earnestly shewished the meeting over, for she dreaded to see the sorrow of Delvile, and she dreaded still more the susceptibility of her own heart. 

The next morning, to her great concern, Mr Arnott was waiting in thehall when she came down stairs, and so much grieved at her departure, that he handed her to the chaise without being able to speak to her, and hardly heard her thanks and compliments but by recollection aftershe was gone. 

She arrived at Mrs Charlton's very early, and found her old friend inthe same state she had left her. She communicated to her the purpose ofher return, and begged she would keep her granddaughters up stairs, that the conference in the parlour might be uninterrupted and unheard. 

She then made a forced and hasty breakfast, and went down to be readyto receive them. They came not till eleven o'clock, and the time of herwaiting was passed in agonies of expectation. 

At length they were announced, and at length they entered the room. 

Cecilia, with her utmost efforts for courage, could hardly stand toreceive them. They came in together, but Mrs Delvile, advancing beforeher son, and endeavouring so to stand as to intercept his view of her, with the hope that in a few instants her emotion would be less visible, said, in the most soothing accents, "What honour Miss Beverley does usby permitting this visit! I should have been sorry to have left Suffolkwithout the satisfaction of again seeing you; and my son, sensible ofthe high respect he owes you, was most unwilling to be gone, before hehad paid you his devoirs. "

Cecilia courtsied; but depressed by the cruel task which awaited her, had no power to speak; and Mrs Delvile, finding she still trembled, made her sit down, and drew a chair next to her. 

Mean while Delvile, with an emotion far more violent, because whollyunrestrained, waited impatiently till the ceremonial of the receptionwas over, and then, approaching Cecilia, in a voice of perturbation andresentment, said, "In this presence, at least, I hope I may be heard;though my letters have been unanswered, my visits refused, thoughinexorably you have flown me--"

"Mortimer, " interrupted Mrs Delvile, "forget not that what I have toldyou is irrevocable; you now meet Miss Beverley for no other purposethan to give and to receive a mutual release of all to or engagementwith each other. "

"Pardon me, madam, " cried he, "this is a condition to which I havenever assented. I come not to release, but to claim her! I am hers, andhers wholly! I protest it in the face of the world! The time, therefore, is now past for the sacrifice which you demand, since scarceare you more my mother, than I consider her as my wife. "

Cecilia, amazed at this dauntless declaration, now almost lost her fearin her surprise; while Mrs Delvile, with an air calm though displeased, answered, "This is not a point to be at present discussed, and I hadhoped you knew better what was due to your auditors. I only consentedto this interview as a mark of your respect for Miss Beverley, to whomin propriety it belongs to break off this unfortunate connexion. "

Cecilia, who at this call could no longer be silent, now gatheredfortitude to say, "Whatever tie or obligation may be supposed to dependupon me, I have already relinquished; and I am now ready to declare--"

"That you wholly give me up?" interrupted Delvile, "is that what youwould say?--Oh how have I offended you? how have I merited adispleasure that can draw upon me such a sentence?--Answer, speak tome, Cecilia, what is it I have done?"

"Nothing, Sir, " said Cecilia, confounded at this language in thepresence of his mother, "you have done nothing, --but yet--"

"Yet what?--have you conceived to me an aversion? has any dreadful andhorrible antipathy succeeded to your esteem?--tell, tell me withoutdisguise, do you hate, do you abhor me?"

Cecilia sighed, and turned away her head; and Mrs Delvile indignantlyexclaimed, "What madness and absurdity! I scarce know you under theinfluence of such irrational violence. Why will you interrupt MissBeverley in the only speech you ought to hear from her? Why, at once, oppress her, and irritate me, by words of more passion than reason? Goon, charming girl, finish what so wisely, so judiciously you werebeginning, and then you shall be released from this turbulentpersecution. "

"No, madam, she must not go on!" cried Delvile, "if she does notutterly abhor me, I will not suffer her to go on;--Pardon, pardon me, Cecilia, but your too exquisite delicacy is betraying not only myhappiness, but your own. Once more, therefore, I conjure you to hearme, and then if, deliberately and unbiassed, you renounce me, I willnever more distress you by resisting your decree. "

Cecilia, abashed and changing colour, was silent, and he proceeded. 

"All that has past between us, the vows I have offered you of faith, constancy and affection, the consent I obtained from you to be legallymine, the bond of settlement I have had drawn up, and the high honouryou conferred upon me in suffering me to lead you to the altar, --allthese particulars are already known to so many, that the leastreflection must convince you they will soon be concealed from none:tell me, then, if your own fame pleads not for me, and if the scrupleswhich lead you to refuse, by taking another direction, will not, withmuch more propriety, urge, nay enjoin you to accept me!--You hesitateat least, --O Miss Beverley!--I see in that hesitation--"

"Nothing, nothing!" cried she, hastily, and checking her risingirresolution; "there is nothing for you to see, but that every way Inow turn I have rendered myself miserable!"

"Mortimer, " said Mrs Delvile, seized with terror as she penetrated intothe mental yielding of Cecilia, "you have now spoken to Miss Beverley;and unwilling as I am to obtrude upon her our difference of sentiment, it is necessary, since she has heard you, that I, also, should claimher attention. "

"First let her speak!" cried Delvile, who in her apparent waveringbuilt new hopes, "first let her answer what she has already deigned tolisten to. "

"No, first let her hear!" cried Mrs Delvile, "for so only can she judgewhat answer will reflect upon her most honour. "

Then, solemnly turning to Cecilia, she continued: "You see here, MissBeverley, a young man who passionately adores you, and who forgets inhis adoration friends, family, and connections, the opinions in whichhe has been educated, the honour of his house, his own former views, and all his primitive sense of duty, both public and private!--Apassion built on such a defalcation of principle renders him unworthyyour acceptance; and not more ignoble for him would be a union whichwould blot his name from the injured stock whence he sprung, thanindelicate for you, who upon such terms ought to despise him. "

"Heavens, madam, " exclaimed Delvile, "what a speech!"

"O never, " cried Cecilia, rising, "may I hear such another! Indeed, madam, there is no occasion to probe me so deeply, for I would not nowenter your family, for all that the whole world could offer me!"

"At length, then, madam, " cried Delvile, turning reproachfully to hismother, "are you satisfied? is your purpose now answered? and is thedagger you have transfixed in my heart sunk deep enough to appeaseyou?"

"O could I draw it out, " cried Mrs Delvile, "and leave upon it no stainof ignominy, with what joy should my own bosom receive it, to heal thewound I have most compulsatorily inflicted!--Were this excellent youngcreature portionless, I would not hesitate in giving my consent; everyclaim of interest would be overbalanced by her virtues, and I would notgrieve to see you poor, where so conscious you were happy; but here toconcede, would annihilate every hope with which hitherto I have lookedup to my son. "

"Let us now, then, madam, " said Cecilia, "break up this conference. Ihave spoken, I have heard, the decree is past, and therefore, "--

"You are indeed an angel!" cried Mrs Delvile, rising and embracing her;"and never can I reproach my son with what has passed, when I considerfor what an object the sacrifice was planned. _You_ cannot be unhappy, you have purchased peace by the exercise of virtue, and the close ofevery day will bring to you a reward, in the sweets of a self-approvingmind. --But we will part, since you think it right; I do wrong tooccasion any delay. "

"No, we will _not_ part!" cried Delvile, with encreasing vehemence; "ifyou force me, madam, from her, you will drive me to distraction! Whatis there in this world that can offer me a recompense? And what canpride even to the proudest afford as an equivalent? Her perfections youacknowledge, her greatness of mind is like your own; she has generouslygiven me her heart, --Oh sacred and fascinating charge! Shall I, aftersuch a deposite, consent to an eternal separation? Repeal, repeal yoursentence, my Cecilia! let us live to ourselves and our consciences, andleave the vain prejudices of the world to those who can be paid by themfor the loss of all besides!"

"Is this conflict, then, " said Mrs Delvile, "to last for-ever? Oh endit, Mortimer, finish it, and make me happy! she is just, and willforgive you, she is noble-minded, and will honour you. Fly, then, atthis critical moment, for in flight alone is your safety; and then willyour father see the son of his hopes, and then shall the fond blessingsof your idolizing mother soothe all your affliction, and soften allyour regret!"

"Oh madam!" cried Delvile, "for mercy, for humanity, forbear this cruelsupplication!"

"Nay, more than supplication, you have my commands; commands you havenever yet disputed, and misery, ten-fold misery, will follow theirdisobedience. Hear me, Mortimer, for I speak prophetically; I know yourheart, I know it to be formed for rectitude and duty, or destined bytheir neglect to repentance and horror. "

Delvile, struck by these words, turned suddenly from them both, and ingloomy despondence walked to the other end of the room. Mrs Delvileperceived the moment of her power, and determined to pursue the blow:taking, therefore, the hand of Cecilia, while her eyes sparkled withthe animation of reviving hope, "See, " she cried, pointing to her son, "see if I am deceived! can he bear even the suggestion of futurecontrition! Think you when it falls upon him, he will support itbetter? No; he will sink under it. And you, pure as you are of mind, and steadfast in principle, what would your chance be of happiness witha man who never erring till he knew you, could never look at youwithout regret, be his fondness what it might?"

"Oh madam, " cried the greatly shocked Cecilia, "let him, then, see meno more!--take, take him all to yourself! forgive, console him! I willnot have the misery of involving him in repentance, nor of incurringthe reproaches of the mother he so much reverences!"

"Exalted creature!" cried Mrs Delvile; "tenderness such as this wouldconfer honour upon a monarch. " Then, calling out exultingly to her son, "See, " she added, "how great a woman can act, when stimulated bygenerosity, and a just sense of duty! Follow then, at least, theexample you ought to have led, and deserve my esteem and love, or becontent to forego them. "

"And can I only deserve them, " said Delvile, in a tone of the deepestanguish, "by a compliance to which not merely my happiness, but myreason must be sacrificed? What honour do I injure that is notfactitious? What evil threatens our union, that is not imaginary? Inthe general commerce of the world it may be right to yield to itsprejudices, but in matters of serious importance, it is weakness to beshackled by scruples so frivolous, and it is cowardly to be governed bythe customs we condemn. Religion and the laws of our country shouldthen alone be consulted, and where those are neither opposed norinfringed, we should hold ourselves superior to all otherconsiderations. "

"Mistaken notions!" said Mrs Delvile; "and how long do you flatteryourself this independent happiness would endure? How long could youlive contented by mere self-gratification, in defiance of the censureof mankind, the renunciation of your family, and the curses of yourfather?"

"The curses of my father!" repeated he, starting and shuddering, "O no, he could never be so barbarous!"

"He could, " said she, steadily, "nor do I doubt but he would. If now, however, you are affected by the prospect of his disclaiming you, thinkbut what you will feel when first forbid to appear before either of us!and think of your remorse for involving Miss Beverley in suchdisgrace!"

"O speak not such words!" cried he, with agonizing earnestness, "todisgrace her, --to be banished by you, --present not, I conjure you, suchscenes to my imagination!"

"Yet would they be unavoidable, " continued she; "nor have I said to youall; blinded as you now are by passion, your nobler feelings are onlyobscured, not extirpated; think, then, how they will all rise inrevenge of your insulted dignity, when your name becomes a stranger toyour ears, and you are first saluted by one so meanly adopted!--"

"Hold, hold, madam, " interrupted he, "this is more than I can bear!"

"Heavens!" still continued she, disregarding his entreaty, "what in theuniverse can pay you for that first moment of indignity! Think of itwell ere you proceed, and anticipate your sensations, lest the shockshould wholly overcome you. How will the blood of your wrongedancestors rise into your guilty cheeks, and how will your heart throbwith secret shame and reproach, when wished joy upon your marriage bythe name of _Mr Beverley_!"

Delvile, stung to the soul, attempted not any answer, but walked aboutthe room in the utmost disorder of mind. Cecilia would have retired, but feared irritating him to some extravagance; and Mrs Delvile, looking after him, added "For myself, I would still see, for I shouldpity your wife, --but NEVER would I behold my son when sunk into anobject of compassion!"

"It shall not be!" cried he, in a transport of rage; "cease, cease todistract me!--be content, madam, --you have conquered!"

"Then you are my son!" cried she, rapturously embracing him; "now Iknow again my Mortimer! now I see the fair promise of his uprightyouth, and the flattering completion of my maternal expectations!"

Cecilia, finding all thus concluded, desired nothing so much as tocongratulate them on their reconciliation; but having only said "Let_me_, too, --" her voice failed her, she stopt short, and hoping she hadbeen unheard, would have glided out of the room. 

But Delvile, penetrated and tortured, yet delighted at thissensibility, broke from his mother, and seizing her hand, exclaimed, "Oh Miss Beverley, if _you_ are not happy---"

"I am! I am!" cried she, with quickness; "let me pass, --and think nomore of me. "

"That voice, --those looks, --" cried he, still holding her, "they speaknot serenity!--Oh if I have injured your peace, --if that heart, which, pure as angels, deserves to be as sacred from sorrow, through my means, or for my sake, suffers any diminution of tranquility--"

"None, none!" interrupted she, with precipitation. 

"I know well, " cried he, "your greatness of soul; and if this dreadfulsacrifice gives lasting torture only to myself, --if of _your_ returninghappiness I could be assured, --I would struggle to bear it. "

"You _may_, be assured of it, " cried she, with reviving dignity, "Ihave no right to expect escaping all calamity, but while I share thecommon lot, I will submit to it without repining. "

"Heaven then bless, and hovering angels watch you!" cried he, andletting go her hand, he ran hastily out of the room. 

"Oh Virtue, how bright is thy triumph!" exclaimed Mrs Delvile, flyingup to Cecilia, and folding her in her arms; "Noble, incomparable youngcreature! I knew not that so much worth was compatible with humanfrailty!"

But the heroism of Cecilia, in losing its object, lost its force; shesighed, she could not speak, tears gushed into her eyes, and kissingMrs Delvile's hand with a look that shewed her inability to conversewith her, she hastened, though scarce able to support herself, away, with intention to shut herself up in her own apartment: and MrsDelvile, who perceived that her utmost fortitude was exhausted, opposednot her going, and wisely forbore to encrease her emotion, by followingher even with her blessings. 

But when she came into the hall, she started, and could proceed nofurther; for there she beheld Delvile, who in too great agony to beseen, had stopt to recover some composure before he quitted the house. 

At the first sound of an opening door, he was hastily escaping; butperceiving Cecilia, and discerning her situation, he more hastilyturned back, saying, "Is it possible?--To _me_ were you coming?"

She shook her head, and made a motion with her hand to say no, andwould then have gone on. 

"You are weeping!" cried he, "you are pale!--Oh Miss Beverley! is thisyour happiness!"

"I am very well, --" cried she, not knowing what she answered, "I amquite well, --pray go, --I am very--" her words died away inarticulated. 

"O what a voice is that!" exclaimed he, "it pierces my very soul!"

Mrs Delvile now came to the parlour door, and looked aghast at thesituation in which she saw them: Cecilia again moved on, and reachedthe stairs, but tottered, and was obliged to cling to the banisters. 

"O suffer me to support you, " cried he; "you are not able to stand, --whither is it you would go?"

"Any where, --I don't know, --" answered she, in faltering accents, "butif you would leave me, I should be well. "

And, turning from him, she walked again towards the parlour, finding byher shaking frame, the impossibility of getting unaided up the stairs. 

"Give me your hand, my love, " said Mrs Delvile, cruelly alarmed by thisreturn; and the moment they re-entered the parlour, she saidimpatiently to her son, "Mortimer, why are you not gone?"

He heard her not, however; his whole attention was upon Cecilia, who, sinking into a chair, hid her face against Mrs Delvile: but, revivingin a few moments, and blushing at the weakness she had betrayed, sheraised her head, and, with an assumed serenity, said, "I am better, --much better, --I was rather sick, --but it is over; and now, if you willexcuse me, I will go to my own room. "

She then arose, but her knees trembled, and her head was giddy, andagain seating herself, she forced a faint smile, and said, "Perhaps Ihad better keep quiet. "

"Can I bear this!" cried Delvile, "no, it shakes all my resolution!--loveliest and most beloved Cecilia! forgive my rash declaration, whichI hear retract and forswear, and which no false pride, no worthlessvanity shall again surprise from me!--raise, then, your eyes--"

"Hot-headed young man!" interrupted Mrs Delvile, with an air of haughtydispleasure, "if you cannot be rational, at least be silent. MissBeverley, we will both leave him. "

Shame, and her own earnestness, how restored some strength to Cecilia, who read with terror in the looks of Mrs Delvile the passions withwhich she was agitated, and instantly obeyed her by rising; but herson, who inherited a portion of her own spirit, rushed between themboth and the door, and exclaimed, "Stay, madam, stay! I cannot let yougo: I see your intention, I see your dreadful purpose; you will workupon the feelings of Miss Beverley, you will extort from her a promiseto see me no more!"

"Oppose not my passing!" cried Mrs Delvile, whose voice, face andmanner spoke the encreasing disturbance of her soul; "I have but toolong talked to you in vain; I must now take some better method for thesecurity of the honour of my family. "

This moment appeared to Delvile decisive; and casting off indesperation all timidity and restraint, he suddenly sprang forward, andsnatching the hand of Cecilia from his mother, he exclaimed, "I cannot, I will not give her up!--nor now, madam, nor ever!--I protest it mostsolemnly! I affirm it by my best hopes! I swear it by all that I holdsacred!"

Grief and horror next to frenzy at a disappointment thus unexpected, and thus peremptory, rose in the face of Mrs Delvile, who, striking herhand upon her forehead, cried, "My brain is on fire!" and rushed out ofthe room. 

Cecilia had now no difficulty to disengage herself from Delvile, who, shocked at the exclamation, and confounded by the sudden departure ofhis mother, hastened eagerly to pursue her: she had only flown into thenext parlour; but, upon following her thither, what was his dread andhis alarm, when he saw her extended, upon the floor, her face, handsand neck all covered with blood! "Great Heaven!" he exclaimed, prostrating himself by her side, "what is it you have done!--where areyou wounded?--what direful curse have you denounced against your son?"

Not able to speak, she angrily shook her head, and indignantly made amotion with her hand, that commanded him from her sight. 

Cecilia, who had followed, though half dead with terror, had yet thepresence of mind to ring the bell. A servant came immediately; andDelvile, starting up from his mother, ordered him to fetch the firstsurgeon or physician he could find. 

The alarm now brought the rest of the servants into the room, and MrsDelvile suffered herself to be raised from the ground, and seated in achair; she was still silent, but shewed a disgust to any assistancefrom her son, that made him deliver her into the hands of the servants, while, in speechless agony, he only looked on and watched her. 

Neither did Cecilia, though forgetting her own sorrow, and no longersensible of personal weakness, venture to approach her: uncertain whathad happened, she yet considered herself as the ultimate cause of thisdreadful scene, and feared to risk the effect of the smallestadditional emotion. 

The servant returned with a surgeon in a few minutes: Cecilia, unableto wait and hear what he would say, glided hastily out of the room; andDelvile, in still greater agitation, followed her quick into the nextparlour; but having eagerly advanced to speak to her, he turnedprecipitately about, and hurrying into the hall, walked in hasty stepsup and down it, without courage to enquire what was passing. 

At length the surgeon came out: Delvile flew to him, and stopt him, butcould ask no question. His countenance, however, rendered wordsunnecessary; the surgeon understood him, and said, "The lady will dovery well; she has burst a blood vessel, but I think it will be of noconsequence. She must be kept quiet and easy, and upon no accountsuffered to talk, or to use any exertion. "

Delvile now let him go, and flew himself into a corner to return thanksto heaven that the evil, however great, was less than he had at firstapprehended. He then went into the parlour to Cecilia, eagerly callingout, "Heaven be praised, my mother has not voluntarily cursed me!"

"O now then, " cried Cecilia, "once more make her bless you! theviolence of her agitation has already almost destroyed her, and herframe is too weak for this struggle of contending passions;--go to her, then, and calm the tumult of her spirits, by acquiescing wholly in herwill, and being to her again the son she thinks she has lost!"

"Alas!" said he, in a tone of the deepest dejection; "I have beenpreparing myself for that purpose, and waited but your commands tofinally determine me. "

"Let us both go to her instantly, " said Cecilia; "the least delay maybe fatal. "

She now led the way, and approaching Mrs Delvile, who, faint and weak, was seated upon an arm chair, and resting her head upon the shoulder ofa maid servant, said, "Lean, dearest madam, upon _me_, and speak not, but hear us!"

She then took the place of the maid, and desired her and the otherservants to go out of the room. Delvile advanced, but his mother's eye, recovering, at his sight, its wonted fire, darted upon him a glance ofsuch displeasure, that, shuddering with the apprehension of inflamingagain those passions which threatened her destruction, he hastily sankon one knee, and abruptly exclaimed, "Look at me with less abhorrence, for I come but to resign myself to your will. "

"Mine, also, " cried Cecilia, "that will shall be; you need not speakit, we know it, and here solemnly we promise that we will separate forever. "

"Revive, then, my mother, " said Delvile, "rely upon our plightedhonours, and think only of your health, for your son will never moreoffend you. "

Mrs Delvile, much surprised, and strongly affected, held out her handto him, with a look of mingled compassion and obligation, and droppingher head upon the bosom of Cecilia, who with her other arm she pressedtowards her, she burst into an agony of tears. 

"Go, go, Sir!" said Cecilia, cruelly alarmed, "you have said all thatis necessary; leave Mrs Delvile now, and she will be more composed. "

Delvile instantly obeyed, and then his mother, whose mouth stillcontinued to fill with blood, though it gushed not from her with theviolence it had begun, was prevailed upon by the prayers of Cecilia toconsent to be conveyed into her room; and, as her immediate removal toanother house might be dangerous, she complied also, though veryreluctantly, with her urgent entreaties, that she would take entirepossession of it till the next day. 

This point gained, Cecilia left her, to communicate what had passed toMrs Charlton; but was told by one of the servants that Mr Delvilebegged first to speak with her in the next room. 

She hesitated for a moment whether to grant this request; butrecollecting it was right to acquaint him with his mother's intentionof staying all night, she went to him. 

"How indulgent you are, " cried he, in a melancholy voice, as she openedthe door; "I am now going post to Dr Lyster, whom I shall entreat tocome hither instantly; but I am fearful of again disturbing my mother, and must therefore rely upon you to acquaint her what is become of me. "

"Most certainly; I have begged her to remain here to-night, and I hopeI shall prevail with her to continue with me till Dr Lyster's arrival;after which she will, doubtless, be guided either in staying longer, orremoving elsewhere, by his advice. "

"You are all goodness, " said he, with a deep sigh; "and how I shallsupport--but I mean not to return hither, at least not to this house, --unless, indeed, Dr Lyster's account should be alarming. I leave mymother, therefore, to your kindness, and only hope, only entreat, thatyour own health, --your own peace of mind--neither by attendance uponher--by anxiety--by pity for her son--"

He stopt, and seemed gasping for breath; Cecilia turned from him tohide her emotion, and he proceeded with a rapidity of speech thatshewed his terror of continuing with her any longer, and his strugglewith himself to be gone: "The promise you have made in both our namesto my mother, I shall hold myself bound to observe. I see, indeed, thather reason or her life would fall the sacrifice of further opposition:of myself, therefore, it is no longer time to think. --I take of you noleave--I cannot! yet I would fain tell you the high reverence--but itis better to say nothing--"

"Much better, " cried Cecilia, with a forced and faint smile; "lose not, therefore, an instant, but hasten to this good Dr Lyster. "

"I will, " answered he, going to the door; but there, stopping andturning round, "one thing I should yet, " he added, "wish to say, --Ihave been impetuous, violent, unreasonable, --with shame and with regretI recollect how impetuous, and how unreasonable: I have persecuted, where I ought in silence to have submitted; I have reproached, where Iought in candour to have approved; and in the vehemence with which Ihave pursued you, I have censured that very dignity of conduct whichhas been the basis of my admiration, my esteem, my devotion! but nevercan I forget, and never without fresh wonder remember, the sweetnesswith which you have borne with me, even when most I offended you. Forthis impatience, this violence, this inconsistency, I now mostsincerely beg your pardon; and if, before I go, you could so farcondescend as to pronounce my forgiveness, with a lighter heart, Ithink, I should quit you. "

"Do not talk of forgiveness, " said Cecilia, "you have never offendedme; I always knew--always was sure--always imputed--" she stopt, unableto proceed. 

Deeply penetrated by her apparent distress, he with difficultyrestrained himself from falling at her feet; but after a moment's pauseand recollection, he said, "I understand the generous indulgence youhave shewn me, an indulgence I shall ever revere, and ever grieve tohave abused. I ask you not to remember me, --far, far happier do I wishyou than such a remembrance could make you; but I will pain thehumanity of your disposition no longer. You will tell my mother--but nomatter!--Heaven preserve you, my angelic Cecilia!--Miss Beverley, Imean, Heaven guide, protect, and bless you! And should I see you nomore, should this be the last sad moment---"

He paused, but presently recovering himself, added, "May I hear, atleast, of your tranquillity, for that alone can have any chance toquiet or repress the anguish I feel here!"

He then abruptly retreated, and ran out of the house. 

Cecilia for a while remained almost stupified with sorrow; she forgotMrs Delvile, she forgot Mrs Charlton, she forgot her own design ofapologizing to one, or assisting the other: she continued in theposture in which he had left her, quite without motion, and almostwithout sensibility. 

CHAPTER vii. 

A MESSAGE. 

From this lethargy of sadness Cecilia was soon, however, awakened bythe return of the surgeon, who had brought with him a physician toconsult upon Mrs Delvile's situation. Terror for the mother once moredrove the son from her thoughts, and she waited with the mostapprehensive impatience to hear the result of the consultation. Thephysician declined giving any positive opinion, but, having written aprescription, only repeated the injunction of the surgeon, that sheshould be kept extremely quiet, and on no account be suffered to talk. 

Cecilia, though shocked and frightened at the occasion, was yet by nomeans sorry at an order which thus precluded all conversation; unfittedfor it by her own misery, she was glad to be relieved from allnecessity of imposing upon herself the irksome task of finding subjectsfor discourse to which she was wholly indifferent, while obliged withsedulity to avoid those by which alone her mind was occupied. 

The worthy Mrs Charlton heard the events of the morning with the utmostconcern, but charged her grand-daughters to assist her young friend indoing the honours of her house to Mrs Delvile, while she orderedanother apartment to be prepared for Cecilia, to whom she administeredall the consolation her friendly zeal could suggest. 

Cecilia, however unhappy, had too just a way of thinking to indulge inselfish grief, where occasion called her to action for the benefit ofothers: scarce a moment, therefore now did she allow to sorrow andherself, but assiduously bestowed the whole of her time upon her twosick friends, dividing her attention according to their own desire orconvenience, without consulting or regarding any choice of her own. Choice, indeed, she had none; she loved Mrs Charlton, she revered MrsDelvile; the warmest wish with which her heart glowed, was the recoveryof both, but too deep was her affliction to receive pleasure fromeither. 

Two days passed thus, during which the constancy of her attendance, which at another time would have fatigued her, proved the only reliefshe was capable of receiving. Mrs Delvile was evidently affected by hervigilant tenderness, but seemed equally desirous with herself to makeuse of the prohibition to speech as an excuse for uninterruptedsilence. She enquired not even after her son, though the eagerness ofher look towards the door whenever it was opened, shewed either a hope, or an apprehension that he might enter. Cecilia wished to tell herwhither he was gone, but dreaded trusting her voice with his name; andtheir silence, after a while, seemed so much by mutual consent, thatshe had soon as little courage as she had inclination to break it. 

The arrival of Dr Lyster gave her much satisfaction, for upon himrested her hopes of Mrs Delvile's re-establishment. He sent for herdown stairs, to enquire whether he was expected; and hearing that hewas not, desired her to announce him, as the smallest emotion might domischief. 

She returned up stairs, and after a short preparation, said, "Yourfavourite Dr Lyster, madam, is come, and I shall be much the happierfor having you under his care. "

"Dr Lyster?" cried she, "who sent for him?"

"I believe--I fancy--Mr Delvile fetched him. "

"My son?--is he here, then?"

"No, --he went, the moment he left you, for Dr Lyster, --and Dr Lyster iscome by himself. "

"Does he write to you?"

"No, indeed!--he writes not--he comes not--dearest madam be satisfied, he will do neither to me ever more!"

"Exemplary young man!" cried she, in a voice hardly audible, "how greatis his loss!--unhappy Mortimer!--ill-fated, and ill-rewarded!"

She sighed, and said no more; but this short conversation, the only onewhich had passed between them since her illness, agitated her so much, that Dr Lyster, who now came up stairs, found her in a state oftrembling and weakness that both alarmed and surprised him. Cecilia, glad of an opportunity to be gone, left the room, and sent, by DrLyster's desire, for the physician and surgeon who had alreadyattended. 

After they had been some time with their patient, they retired to aconsultation, and when it was over, Dr Lyster waited upon Cecilia inthe parlour, and assured her he had no apprehension of danger for MrsDelvile, "Though, for another week, " he added, "I would have hercontinue your _patient_, as she is not yet fit to be removed. But praymind that she is kept quiet; let nobody go near her, not even her ownson. By the way he is waiting for me at the inn, so I'll just speakagain to his mother, and be gone. "

Cecilia was well pleased by this accidental information, to learn boththe anxiety of Delvile for his mother, and the steadiness of hisforbearance for himself. When Dr Lyster came down stairs again, "Ishall stay, " he said, "till to-morrow, but I hope she will be able inanother week to get to Bristol. In the mean time I shall leave her, Isee, with an excellent nurse. But, my good young lady, in your care ofher, don't neglect yourself; I am not quite pleased with your looks, though it is but an old fashioned speech to tell you so. --What have youbeen doing to yourself?"

"Nothing;" said she, a little embarrassed; "but had you not better havesome tea?"

"Why yes, I think I had;--but what shall I do with my young man?"

Cecilia understood the hint, but coloured, and made no answer. 

"He is waiting for me, " he continued, "at the inn; however, I never yetknew the young man I would prefer to a young woman, so if you will giveme some tea here, I shall certainly jilt him. "

Cecilia instantly rang the bell, and ordered tea. 

"Well now, " said he, "remember the sin of this breach of appointmentlies wholly at your door. I shall tell him you laid violent hands onme; and if that is not, enough to excuse me, I shall desire he will trywhether he could be more of a stoic with you himself. "

"I think I must unorder the tea, " said she, with what gaiety she couldassume, "if I am to be responsible for any mischief from your drinkingit. "

"No, no, you shan't be off now; but pray would it be quite out of rulefor you to send and ask him to come to us?"

"Why I believe--I think--" said she, stammering, "it's very likely hemay be engaged. "

"Well, well, I don't mean to propose any violent incongruity. You mustexcuse my blundering; I understand but little of the etiquette of youngladies. 'Tis a science too intricate to be learned without more studythan we plodding men of business can well spare time for. However, whenI have done _writing_ prescriptions, I will set about _reading_ them, provided you will be my instructress. "

Cecilia, though ashamed of a charge in which prudery and affectationwere implied, was compelled to submit to it, as either to send forDelvile, or explain her objections, was equally impossible. The MissCharltons, therefore, joined them, and they went to tea. 

Just as they had done, a note was delivered to Dr Lyster; "see here, "cried he, when he had read it, "what a fine thing it is to be a _young_man! Why now, Mr Mortimer understands as much of all this _etiquette_as you ladies do yourselves; for he only writes a note even to ask howhis mother does. "

He then put it into Cecilia's hand. 

_To Dr Lyster_. 

Tell me, my dear Sir, how you have found my mother? I am uneasy at yourlong stay, and engaged with my friend Biddulph, or I should havefollowed you in person. 

M. D. 

"So you see, " continued the doctor, "I need not do penance for engagingmyself to you, when this young gentleman can find such goodentertainment for himself. "

Cecilia who well knew the honourable motive of Delvile's engagement, with difficulty forbore speaking in his vindication. Dr Lysterimmediately began an answer, but before he had finished it, called out, "Now as I am told you are a very good young woman, I think you can dono less than assist me to punish this gay spark, for playing themacaroni, when he ought to visit his sick mother. "

Cecilia, much hurt for Delvile, and much confused for herself, lookedabashed, but knew not what to answer. 

"My scheme, " continued the doctor, "is to tell him, that as he hasfound one engagement for tea, he may find another for supper; but thatas to me, I am better disposed of, for you insist upon keeping me toyourself. Come, what says _etiquette_? may I treat myself with thispuff?"

"Certainly, " said Cecilia, endeavouring to look pleased, "if you willfavour us with your company, Miss Charltons and myself will think the_puffing_ should rather be ours than yours. "

"That, then, " said the doctor, "will not answer my purpose, for I meanthe puff to be my own, or how do I punish him? So, suppose I tell himI shall not only sup with three young ladies, but be invited to a_tete-a-tete_ with one of them into the bargain?"

The young ladies only laughed, and the doctor finished his note, andsent it away; and then, turning gaily to Cecilia, "Come, " he said, "whydon't you give me this invitation? surely you don't mean to make meguilty of perjury?"

Cecilia, but little disposed for pleasantry, would gladly now havedropt the subject; but Dr Lyster, turning to the Miss Charltons, said, "Young ladies, I call you both to witness if this is not very badusage: this young woman has connived at my writing a downrightfalsehood, and all the time took me in to believe it was a truth. Theonly way I can think of to cure her of such frolics, is for both of youto leave us together, and so make her keep her word whether she will orno. "

The Miss Charltons took the hint, and went away; while Cecilia, who hadnot at all suspected he meant seriously to speak with her, remainedextremely perplexed to think what he had to say. 

"Mrs Delvile, " cried he, continuing the same air of easy good humour, "though I allowed her not to speak to me above twenty words, took upnear ten of them to tell me that you had behaved to her like an angel. Why so she ought, cried I; what else was she sent for here to look solike one? I charged her, therefore, to take all that as a thing ofcourse; and to prove that I really think what I say, I am now going tomake a trial of you, that, if you are any thing less, will induce youto order some of your men to drive me into the street. The truth is, Ihave had a little commission given me, which in the first place I knownot how to introduce, and which, in the second, as far as I can judge, appears to be absolutely superfluous. "

Cecilia now felt uneasy and alarmed, and begged him to explain himself. He then dropt the levity with which he had begun the discourse, andafter a grave, yet gentle preparation, expressive of his unwillingnessto distress her, and his firm persuasion of her uncommon worthiness, heacquainted her that he was no stranger to her situation with respect tothe Delvile family. 

"Good God!" cried she, blushing and much amazed; "and who"---

"I knew it, " said he, "from the moment I attended Mr Mortimer in hisillness at Delvile Castle. He could not conceal from me that the seatof his disorder was his mind; and I could not know that, withoutreadily conjecturing the cause, when I saw who was his father's guest, and when I knew what was his father's character. He found he wasbetrayed to me, and upon my advising a journey, he understood meproperly. His openness to counsel, and the manly firmness with which hebehaved in quitting you, made me hope the danger was blown over. Butlast week, when I was at the Castle, where I have for some timeattended Mr Delvile, who has had a severe fit of the gout, I found himin an agitation of spirits that made me apprehend it would be throwninto his stomach. I desired Mrs Delvile to use her influence to calmhim; but she was herself in still greater emotion, and acquainting meshe was obliged to leave him, desired I would spend with him everymoment in my power. I have therefore almost lived at the Castle duringher absence, and, in the course of our many conversations, he hasacknowledged to me the uneasiness under which he has laboured, from theintelligence concerning his son, which he had just received. "

Cecilia wished here to enquire _how_ received, and from whom, but hadnot the courage, and therefore he proceeded. 

"I was still with the father when Mr Mortimer arrived post at my houseto fetch me hither. I was sent for home; he informed me of his errandwithout disguise, for he knew I was well acquainted with the originalsecret whence all the evil arose. I told him my distress in what mannerto leave his father; and he was extremely shocked himself whenacquainted with his situation. We agreed that it would be vain toconceal from him the indisposition of Mrs Delvile, which the delay ofher return, and a thousand other accidents, might in some unfortunateway make known to him. He commissioned me, therefore, to break it tohim, that he might consent to my journey, and at the same time to quiethis own mind, by assuring him all he had apprehended was wholly at anend. "

He stopt, and looked to see how Cecilia bore these words. 

"It is all at an end, Sir;" said she, with firmness; "but I have notyet heard your commission; what, and from whom is that?"

"I am thoroughly satisfied it is unnecessary;" he answered, "since theyoung man can but submit, and you can but give him up. "

"But still, if there is a message, it is fit I should hear it. "

"If you chase it, so it is. I told Mr Delvile whither I was coming, andI repeated to him his son's assurances. He was relieved, but notsatisfied; he would not see him, and gave me for him a prohibition ofextreme severity, and to _you_ he bid me say--"

"From _him_, then, is my message?" cried Cecilia, half frightened, andmuch disappointed. 

"Yes, " said he, understanding her immediately, "for the son, aftergiving me his first account, had the wisdom and forbearance not once tomention you. "

"I am very glad, " said she, with a mixture of admiration and regret, "to hear it. But, what, Sir, said Mr Delvile?"

"He bid me tell you that either _he_, or _you_ must see his son nevermore. "

"It was indeed unnecessary, " cried she, colouring with resentment, "tosend me such a message. I meant not to see him again, he meant not todesire it. I return him, however, no answer, and I will make him nopromise; to Mrs Delvile alone I hold myself bound; to him, send whatmessages he may, I shall always hold myself free. But believe me, DrLyster, if with his name, his son had inherited his character, hisdesire of our separation would be feeble, and trifling, compared withmy own!"

"I am sorry, my good young lady, " said he, "to have given you thisdisturbance; yet I admire your spirit, and doubt not but it will enableyou to forget any little disappointment you may have suffered. Andwhat, after all, have you to regret? Mortimer Delvile is, indeed, ayoung man that any woman might wish to attach; but every woman cannothave him, and you, of all women, have least reason to repine in missinghim, for scarcely is there another man you may not chuse or reject atyour pleasure. "

Little as was the consolation Cecilia could draw from this speech, shewas sensible it became not her situation to make complaints, andtherefore, to end the conversation she proposed calling in the MissCharltons. 

"No, no, " said he, "I must step up again to Mrs Delvile, and then be-gone. To-morrow morning I shall but call to see how she is, and leavesome directions, and set off. Mr Mortimer Delvile accompanies me back:but he means to return hither in a week, in order to travel with hismother to Bristol. Mean time, I purpose to bring about a reconciliationbetween him and his father, whose prejudices are more intractable thanany man's I ever met with. "

"It will be strange indeed, " said Cecilia, "should a reconciliation_now_ be difficult!"

"True; but it is long since he was young himself, and the softeraffections he never was acquainted with, and only regards them in hisson as derogatory to his whole race. However, if there were not somefew such men, there would hardly be a family in the kingdom that couldcount a great grand-father. I am not, I must own, of his humour myself, but I think it rather peculiarly stranger, than peculiarly worse thanmost other peoples; and how, for example, was that of _your_ uncle awhit the better? He was just as fond of _his_ name, as if, like MrDelvile, he could trace it from the time of the Saxons. "

Cecilia strongly felt the truth of this observation, but not chusing todiscuss it, made not any answer, and Dr Lyster, after a few good-natured apologies, both for his friends the Delviles and himself, wentup stairs. 

"What continual disturbance, " cried she, when left alone, "keeps methus for-ever from rest! no sooner is one wound closed, but another isopened; mortification constantly succeeds distress, and when my heartis spared; my pride is attacked, that not a moment of tranquility mayever be allowed me! Had the lowest of women won the affections of MrDelvile, could his father with less delicacy or less decency haveacquainted her with his inflexible disapprobation? To send with solittle ceremony a message so contemptuous and so peremptory!--butperhaps it is better, for had he, too, like Mrs Delvile, joinedkindness with rejection, I might still more keenly have felt theperverseness of my destiny. "

CHAPTER vii. 

A PARTING. 

The next morning Dr Lyster called early, and having visited MrsDelvile, and again met the two gentlemen of the faculty in whose careshe was to remain, he took his leave. But not without contriving firstto speak a few words to Cecilia in private, in which he charged her tobe careful of her health, and re-animate her spirits. "Don't suppose, "said he, "that because I am a friend of the Delvile family, I am eitherblind to your merits, or to their foibles, far from it; but then whyshould they interfere with one another? Let them keep their prejudices, which, though different, are not worse than their neighbours, and doyou retain your excellencies, and draw from them the happiness theyought to give you. People reason and refine themselves into a thousandmiseries, by chusing to settle that they can only be contented one way;whereas, there are fifty ways, if they would but look about them, thatwould commonly do as well. " "I believe, indeed, you are right, "answered Cecilia, "and I thank you for the admonition; I will do what Ican towards studying your scheme of philosophy, and it is always onestep to amendment, to be convinced that we want it. "

"You are a sensible and charming girl, " said Dr Lyster, "and MrDelvile, should he find a daughter-in-law descended in a right linefrom Egbert, first king of all England, won't be so well off as if hehad satisfied himself with you. However, the old gentleman has a fairright, after all, to be pleased his own way, and let us blame him howwe will, we shall find, upon sifting, it is for no other reason butbecause his humour happens to clash with our own. "

"That, indeed, " said Cecilia, smiling, "is a truth incontrovertible!and a truth to which, for the future, I will endeavour to give moreweight. But will you permit me now to ask one question?--Can you tellme from whom, how, or when the intelligence which has caused all thisdisturbance---"

She hesitated, but, comprehending her readily, he answered "How theygot at it, I never heard, for I never thought it worth while toenquire, as it is so generally known, that nobody I meet with seemsignorant of it. "

This was another, and a cruel shock to Cecilia, and Dr Lyster, perceiving it, again attempted to comfort her. "That the affair issomewhat spread, " said he, "is now not to be helped, and thereforelittle worth thinking of; every body will agree that the choice of bothdoes honour to both, and nobody need be ashamed to be successor toeither, whenever the course of things leads Mr Mortimer and yourself tomake another election. He wisely intends to go abroad, and will notreturn till he is his own man again. And as to you, my good young lady, what, after a short time given to vexation, need interrupt yourhappiness? You have the whole world before you, with youth, fortune, talents, beauty and independence; drive, therefore, from your head thisunlucky affair, and remember there can hardly be a family in thekingdom, this one excepted, that will not rejoice in a connection withyou. "

He then good-humouredly shook hands with her, and went into his chaise. 

Cecilia, though not slow in remarking the ease and philosophy withwhich every one can argue upon the calamities, and moralize upon themisconduct of others, had still the candour and good sense to see thatthere was reason in what he urged, and to resolve upon making the bestuse in her power of the hints for consolation she might draw from hisdiscourse. 

During the following week, she devoted herself almost wholly to MrsDelvile, sharing with the maid, whom she had brought with her from theCastle, the fatigue of nursing her, and leaving to the Miss Charltonsthe chief care of their grandmother. For Mrs Delvile appeared everyhour more sensible of her attention, and more desirous of her presence, and though neither of them spoke, each was endeared to the other by thetender offices of friendship which were paid and received. 

When this week was expired, Dr Lyster was prevailed upon to returnagain to Bury, in order to travel himself with Mrs Delvile to Bristol. "Well, " cried he, taking Cecilia by the first opportunity aside, "howare you? Have you studied my scheme of philosophy, as you promised me?"

"O yes, " said she, "and made, I flatter myself, no little proficiency. "

"You are a good girl, " cried he, "a very extraordinary girl! I am sureyou are; and upon my honour I pity poor Mortimer with all my soul! Buthe is a noble young fellow, and behaves with a courage and spirit thatdoes me good to behold. To have obtained you, he would have movedheaven and earth, but finding you out of his reach, he submits to hisfate like a man. "

Cecilia's eyes glistened at this speech; "Yes, " said she, "he longsince said 'tis suspence, 'tis hope, that make the misery of life, --for there the Passions have all power, and Reason has none. But whenevils are irremediable, and we have neither resources to plan, norcastle-building to delude us, we find time for the cultivation ofphilosophy, and flatter ourselves, perhaps, that we have foundinclination!"

"Why you have considered this matter very deeply, " said he; "but I mustnot have you give way to these serious reflections. Thought, after all, has a cruel spite against happiness; I would have you, therefore, keepas much as you conveniently can, out of its company. Run about anddivert yourself, 'tis all you have for it. The true art of happiness inthis most whimsical world, seems nothing more nor less than this--Letthose who have leisure, find employment, and those who have business, find leisure. "

He then told her that Mr Delvile senior was much better, and no longerconfined to his room: and that he had had the pleasure of seeing anentire reconciliation take place between him and his son, of whom hewas more fond and more proud than any other father in the universe. "

"Think of him, however, my dear young lady, " he continued, "no more, for the matter I see is desperate: you must pardon my being a littleofficious, when I confess to you I could not help proposing to the oldgentleman an expedient of my own; for as I could not drive you out ofmy head, I employed myself in thinking what might be done by way ofaccommodation. Now my scheme was really a very good one, only whenpeople are prejudiced, all reasoning is thrown away upon them. Iproposed sinking _both_ your names, since they are so at variance withone another, and so adopting a third, by means of a title. But MrDelvile angrily declared, that though such a scheme might do very wellfor the needy Lord Ernolf, a Peer of twenty years, his own nobleancestors should never, by his consent, forfeit a name which so manycenturies had rendered honourable. His son Mortimer, he added, mustinevitably inherit the title of his grandfather, his uncle being oldand unmarried; but yet he would rather see him a beggar, than lose hisdearest hope that _Delvile_, Lord _Delvile_, would descend, both nameand title, from generation to generation unsullied and uninterrupted. "

"I am sorry, indeed, " said Cecilia, "that such a proposal was made, andI earnestly entreat that none of any sort may be repeated. "

"Well, well, " said he, "I would not for the world do any mischief, butwho would not have supposed such a proposal would have done good?"

"Mr Mortimer, " he then added, "is to meet us at--for he would not, hesaid, come again to this place, upon such terms as he was here lastweek, for the whole worth of the king's dominions. "

The carriage was now ready, and Mrs Delvile was prepared to depart. Cecilia approached to take leave of her, but Dr Lyster following, said"No talking! no thanking! no compliments of any sort! I shall carry offmy patient without permitting one civil speech, and for all therudeness I make her guilty of, I am willing to be responsible. "

Cecilia would then have retreated, but Mrs Delvile, holding out bothher hands, said "To every thing else, Dr Lyster, I am content tosubmit; but were I to die while uttering the words, I cannot leave thisinestimable creature without first saying how much I love her, how Ihonour, and how I thank her! without entreating her to be careful ofher health, and conjuring her to compleat the greatness of her conduct, by not suffering her spirits to sink from the exertion of her virtue. And now my love, God bless you!"

She then embraced her, and went on; Cecilia, at a motion of DrLyster's, forbearing to follow her. 

"And thus, " cried she, when they were gone, "thus ends all myconnection with this family! which it seems as if I was only to haveknown for the purpose of affording a new proof of the insufficiency ofsituation to constitute happiness. Who looks not upon mine as theperfection of human felicity?--And so, perhaps, it is, for it may bethat Felicity and Humanity are never permitted to come nearer. "

And thus, in philosophic sadness, by reasoning upon the universality ofmisery, she restrained, at least, all violence of sorrow, though herspirits were dejected, and her heart was heavy. 

But the next day brought with it some comfort that a little lightenedher sadness; Mrs Charlton, almost wholly recovered, was able to go downstairs, and Cecilia had at least the satisfaction of seeing an happyconclusion to an illness of which, with the utmost concern and regret, she considered herself as the cause. She attended her with the mostunremitting assiduity, and being really very thankful, endeavoured toappear happy, and flattered herself that, by continual effort, theappearance in a short time would become reality. 

Mrs Charlton retired early, and Cecilia accompanied her up stairs: andwhile she was with her, was informed that Mr Monckton was in theparlour. 

The various, afflicting, and uncommon scenes in which she had beenengaged since she last saw him, had almost wholly driven him from herremembrance, or when at any time he recurred to it, it was only toattribute the discontinuance of his visits to the offence she had givenhim, in refusing to follow his advice by relinquishing her Londonexpedition. 

Full, therefore, of the mortifying transactions which had passed sincetheir parting, and fearful of his enquiries into disgraces he hadnearly foretold, she heard him announced with chagrin, and waited uponhim in the most painful confusion. 

Far different were the feelings of Mr Monckton; he read in hercountenance the dejection of disappointment, which impressed upon hisheart the vivacity of hope: her evident shame was to him secrettriumph, her ill-concealed sorrow revived all his expectations. 

She hastily began a conversation by mentioning her debt to him, andapologising for not paying it the moment she was of age. He knew buttoo well how her time had been occupied, and assured her the delay waswholly immaterial. 

He then led to an enquiry into the present situation of her affairs;but unable to endure a disquisition, which could only be productive ofcensure and mortification, she hastily stopt it, exclaiming, "Ask menot, I entreat you, Sir, any detail of what has passed, --the event hasbrought me sufferings that may well make blame be dispensed with;--Iacknowledge all your wisdom, I am sensible of my own error, but theaffair is wholly dropt, and the unhappy connection I was forming isbroken off for-ever!"

Little now was Mr Monckton's effort in repressing his furthercuriosity, and he started other subjects with readiness, gaiety andaddress. He mentioned Mrs Charlton, for whom he had not the smallestregard; he talked to her of Mrs Harrel, whose very existence wasindifferent to him; and he spoke of their common acquaintance in thecountry, for not one of whom he would have grieved, if assured ofmeeting no more. His powers of conversation were enlivened by hishopes; and his exhilarated spirits made all subjects seem happy to him. A weight was removed from his mind which had nearly borne down even hisremotest hopes; the object of his eager pursuit seemed still within hisreach, and the rival into whose power he had so lately almost beheldher delivered, was totally renounced, and no longer to be dreaded. Arevolution such as this, raised expectations more sanguine than ever;and in quitting the house, he exultingly considered himself releasedfrom every obstacle to his views--till, just as he arrived home, herecollected his wife!

CHAPTER viii. 

A TALE. 

A week passed, during which Cecilia, however sad, spent her time asusual with the family, denying to herself all voluntary indulgence ofgrief, and forbearing to seek consolation from solitude, or relief fromtears. She never named Delvile, she begged Mrs Charlton never tomention him; she called to her aid the account she had received from DrLyster of his firmness, and endeavoured, by an emulous ambition, tofortify her mind from the weakness of depression and regret. 

This week, a week of struggle with all her feelings, was just elapsed, when she received by the post the following letter from Mrs Delvile. 

_To Miss Beverley_. 

BRISTOL, _Oct_. 21. 

My sweet young friend will not, I hope, be sorry to hear of my safearrival at this place: to me every account of her health and welfare, will ever be the intelligence I shall most covet to receive. Yet I meannot to ask for it in return; to chance I will trust for information, and I only write now to say I shall write no more. 

Too much for thanks is what I owe you, and what I think of you isbeyond all power of expression. Do not, then, wish me ill, ill as Ihave seemed to merit of you, for my own heart is almost broken by thetyranny I have been compelled to practise upon yours. And now let mebid a long adieu to you, my admirable Cecilia; you shall not betormented with a useless correspondence, which can only awaken painfulrecollections, or give rise to yet more painful new anxieties. Fervently will I pray for the restoration of your happiness, to whichnothing can so greatly contribute as that wise, that uniform command, so feminine, yet so dignified, you maintain over your passions; whichoften I have admired, though never so feelingly as at this consciousmoment! when my own health is the sacrifice of emotions most fatallyunrestrained. 

Send to me no answer, even if you have the sweetness to wish it; everynew proof of the generosity of your nature is to me but a new wound. Forget us, therefore, wholly, --alas! you have only known us for sorrow!forget us, dear and invaluable Cecilia! though, ever, as you have noblydeserved, must you be fondly and gratefully remembered by AUGUSTADELVILE. 

The attempted philosophy, and laboured resignation of Cecilia, thisletter destroyed: the struggle was over, the apathy was at an end, andshe burst into an agony of tears, which finding the vent they had longsought, now flowed unchecked down her cheeks, sad monitors of theweakness of reason opposed to the anguish of sorrow!

A letter at once so caressing, yet so absolute, forced its way to herheart, in spite of the fortitude she had flattered herself was itsguard. In giving up Delvile she was satisfied of the propriety ofseeing him no more, and convinced that even to talk of him would befolly and imprudence; but to be told that for the future they mustremain strangers to the existence of each other--there seemed in this ahardship, a rigour, that was insupportable. 

"Oh what, " cried she, "is human nature! in its best state howimperfect! that a woman such as this, so noble in character, soelevated in sentiment, with heroism to sacrifice to her sense of dutythe happiness of a son, whom with joy she would die to serve, canherself be thus governed by prejudice, thus enslaved, thus subdued byopinion!" Yet never, even when miserable, unjust or irrational; hergrief was unmixed with anger, and her tears streamed not fromresentment, but affliction. The situation of Mrs Delvile, howeverdifferent, she considered to be as wretched as her own. She read, therefore, with sadness, but not bitterness, her farewell, and receivednot with disdain, but with gratitude, her sympathy. Yet though herindignation was not irritated, her sufferings were doubled, by afarewell so kind, yet so despotic, a sympathy so affectionate, yet sohopeless. 

In this first indulgence of grief which she had granted to herdisappointment, she was soon interrupted by a summons down stairs to agentleman. 

Unfit and unwilling to be seen, she begged that he might leave hisname, and appoint a time for calling again. 

Her maid brought for answer, that he believed his name was unknown toher, and desired to see her now, unless she was employed in some matterof moment. She then put up her letter, and went into the parlour; andthere, to her infinite amazement, beheld Mr Albany. 

"How little, Sir, " she cried, "did I expect this pleasure. "

"This pleasure, " repeated he, "do you call it?--what strange abuse ofwords! what causeless trifling with honesty! is language of no purposebut to wound the ear with untruths? is the gift of speech only grantedus to pervert the use of understanding? I can give you no pleasure, Ihave no power to give it any one; you can give none to me-the wholeworld could not invest you with the means!"

"Well, Sir, " said Cecilia, who had little spirit to defend herself, "Iwill not vindicate the expression, but of this I will unfeignedlyassure you, I am at least as glad to see you just now, as I should beto see anybody. "

"Your eyes, " cried he, "are red, your voice is inarticulate;--young, rich, and attractive, the world at your feet; that world yet untried, and its falsehood unknown, how have you thus found means to anticipatemisery? which way have you uncovered the cauldron of human woes? Fataland early anticipation! that cover once removed, can never be replaced;those woes, those boiling woes, will pour out upon you continually, andonly when your heart ceases to beat, will their ebullition cease totorture you!"

"Alas!" cried Cecilia, shuddering, "how cruel, yet how true!"

"Why went you, " cried he, "to the cauldron? it came not to you. Miseryseeks not man, but man misery. He walks out in the sun, but stops notfor a cloud; confident, he pursues his way, till the storm which, gathering, he might have avoided, bursts over his devoted head. Scaredand amazed, he repents his temerity; he calls, but it is then too late;he runs, but it is thunder which follows him! Such is the presumptionof man, such at once is the arrogance and shallowness of his nature!And thou, simple and blind! hast thou, too, followed whither Fancy hasled thee, unheeding that thy career was too vehement for tranquility, nor missing that lovely companion of youth's early innocence, till, adventurous and unthinking, thou hast lost her for ever!"

In the present weak state of Cecilia's spirits, this attack was toomuch for her; and the tears she had just, and with difficultyrestrained, again forced their way down her cheeks, as she answered, "It is but too true, --I have lost her for ever!"

"Poor thing, " said he, while the rigour of his countenance was softenedinto the gentlest commiseration, "so young!--looking, too, so innocent--'tis hard!--And is nothing left thee? no small remaining hope, tocheat, humanely cheat thy yet not wholly extinguished credulity?"

Cecilia wept without answering. 

"Let me not, " said he, "waste my compassion upon nothing; compassion iswith me no effusion of affectation; tell me, then, if thou deservestit, or if thy misfortunes are imaginary, and thy grief is factitious?"

"Factitious, " repeated she, "Good heaven!"

"Answer me, then, these questions, in which I shall comprise the onlycalamities for which sorrow has no controul, or none from humanmotives. Tell me, then, have you lost by death the friend of yourbosom?"

"No!"

"Is your fortune dissipated by extravagance, and your power ofrelieving the distressed at an end?"

"No; the power and the will are I hope equally undiminished. "

"O then, unhappy girl! have you been guilty of some vice, and hangsremorse thus heavy on your conscience?"

"No, no; thank heaven, to that misery, at least, I am a stranger!"

His countenance now again resumed its severity, and, in the sternestmanner, "Whence then, " he said, "these tears? and what is this capriceyou dignify with the name of sorrow?--strange wantonness of indolenceand luxury! perverse repining of ungrateful plenitude!--oh hadst thouknown what _I_ have suffered!"--

"Could I lessen what you have suffered, " said Cecilia, "I shouldsincerely rejoice; but heavy indeed must be your affliction, if mine inits comparison deserves to be styled caprice!"

"Caprice!" repeated he, "'tis joy! 'tis extacy compared with mine!--Thou hast not in licentiousness wasted thy inheritance! thou hast notby remorse barred each avenue to enjoyment! nor yet has the cold graveseized the beloved of thy soul!"

"Neither, " said Cecilia, "I hope, are the evils you have yourselfsustained so irremediable?"

"Yes, I have borne them all!--_have_ borne? I bear them still; I shallbear them while I breathe! I may rue them, perhaps, yet longer. "

"Good God!" cried Cecilia, shrinking, "what a world is this! how fullof woe and wickedness!" "Yet thou, too, canst complain, " cried he, "though happy in life's only blessing, Innocence! thou, too, canstmurmur, though stranger to death's only terror, Sin! Oh yet if thysorrow is unpolluted with guilt, be regardless of all else, and rejoicein thy destiny!" "But who, " cried she, deeply sighing, "shall teach mesuch a lesson of joy, when all within rises to oppose it?"

"I, " cried he, "will teach it thee, for I will tell thee my own sadstory. Then wilt thou find how much happier is thy lot, then wilt thouraise thy head in thankful triumph. "

"O no! triumph comes not so lightly! yet if you will venture to trustme with some account of yourself, I shall be glad to hear it, and muchobliged by the communication. "

"I will, " he answered, "whatever I may suffer: to awaken thee from thisdream of fancied sorrow, I will open all my wounds, and thou shaltprobe them with fresh shame. "

"No, indeed, " cried Cecilia with quickness, "I will not hear you, ifthe relation will be so painful. "

"Upon _me_ this humanity is lost, " said he, "since punishment andpenitence alone give me comfort. I will tell thee, therefore, mycrimes, that thou mayst know thy own felicity, lest, ignorant it meansnothing but innocence, thou shouldst lose it, unconscious of its value. Listen then to me, and learn what Misery is! Guilt is alone the basisof lasting unhappiness;--Guilt is the basis of mine, and therefore I ama wretch for ever!"

Cecilia would again have declined hearing him, but he refused to bespared: and as her curiosity had long been excited to know something ofhis history, and the motives of his extraordinary conduct, she was gladto have it satisfied, and gave him the utmost attention. 

"I will not speak to you of my family, " said he; "historical accuracywould little answer to either of us. I am a native of the West Indies, and I was early sent hither to be educated. While I was yet at theUniversity, I saw, I adored, and I pursued the fairest flower that everput forth its sweet buds, the softest heart that ever was broken byill-usage! She was poor and unprotected, the daughter of a villager;she was untaught and unpretending, the child of simplicity! But fifteensummers had she bloomed, and her heart was an easy conquest; yet, oncemade mine, it resisted all allurement to infidelity. My fellow studentsattacked her; she was assaulted by all the arts of seduction; flattery, bribery, supplication, all were employed, yet all failed; she waswholly my own; and with sincerity so attractive, I determined to marryher in defiance of all worldly objections. 

"The sudden death of my father called me hastily to Jamaica; I fearedleaving this treasure unguarded, yet in decency could neither marry nortake her directly; I pledged my faith, therefore, to return to her, assoon as I had settled my affairs, and I left to a bosom friend theinspection of her conduct in my absence. 

"To leave her was madness, --to trust in man was madness, --Oh hatefulrace! how has the world been abhorrent to me since that time! I haveloathed the light of the sun, I have shrunk from the commerce of myfellow creatures; the voice of man I have detested, his sight I haveabominated!--but oh, more than all should I be abominated myself!

"When I came to my fortune, intoxicated with sudden power, I forgotthis fair blossom, I revelled in licentiousness and vice, and left itexposed and forlorn. Riot succeeded riot, till a fever, incurred by myown intemperance, first gave me time to think. Then was she revenged, for then first remorse was my portion: her image was brought back to mymind with frantic fondness, and bitterest contrition. The moment Irecovered, I returned to England; I flew to claim her, --but she waslost! no one knew whither she was gone; the wretch I had trustedpretended to know least of all; yet, after a furious search, I tracedher to a cottage, where he had concealed her himself!

"When she saw me, she screamed and would have flown; I stopt her, andtold her I came faithfully and honourably to make her my wife:--her ownfaith and honour, though sullied, were not extinguished, for sheinstantly acknowledged the fatal tale of her undoing!

"Did I recompense this ingenuousness? this unexampled, this beautifulsacrifice to intuitive integrity? Yes! with my curses!--I loaded herwith execrations, I reviled her in language the most opprobrious, Iinsulted her even for her confession! I invoked all evil upon her fromthe bottom of my heart--She knelt at my feet, she implored myforgiveness and compassion, she wept with the bitterness of despair, --and yet I spurned her from me!--Spurned?--let me not hide my shame! Ibarbarously struck her!--nor single was the blow!--it was doubled, itwas reiterated!--Oh wretch, unyielding and unpitying! where shallhereafter be clemency for thee!--So fair a form! so young a culprit! soinfamously seduced! so humbly penitent!

"In this miserable condition, helpless and deplorable, mangled by thesesavage hands, and reviled by this inhuman tongue, I left her, in searchof the villain who had destroyed her: but, cowardly as treacherous, hehad absconded. Repenting my fury, I hastened to her again; thefierceness of my cruelty shamed me when I grew calmer, the softness ofher sorrow melted me upon recollection: I returned, therefore, tosoothe her, --but again she was gone! terrified with expectation ofinsult, she hid herself from all my enquiries. I wandered in search ofher two long years to no purpose, regardless of my affairs, and of allthings but that pursuit. At length, I thought I saw her--in London, alone, and walking in the streets at midnight, --I fearfully followedher, --and followed her into an house of infamy!

"The wretches by whom she was surrounded were noisy and drinking, theyheeded me little, --but she saw and knew me at once! She did not speak, nor did I, --but in two moments she fainted and fell. 

"Yet did I not help her; the people took their own measures to recoverher, and when she was again able to stand, would have removed her toanother apartment. 

"I then went forward, and forcing them away from her with all thestrength of desperation, I turned to the unhappy sinner, who to chanceonly seemed to leave what became of her, and cried, From this scene ofvice and horror let me yet rescue you! you look still unfit for suchsociety, trust yourself, therefore, to me. I seized her hand, I drew, Ialmost dragged her away. She trembled, she could scarce totter, butneither consented nor refused, neither shed a tear, nor spoke a word, and her countenance presented a picture of affright, amazement, andhorror. 

"I took her to a house in the country, each of us silent the whole way. I gave her an apartment and a female attendant, and ordered for herevery convenience I could suggest. I stayed myself in the same house, but distracted with remorse for the guilt and ruin into which I hadterrified her, I could not bear her sight. 

"In a few days her maid assured me the life she led must destroy her;that she would taste nothing but bread and water, never spoke, andnever slept. 

"Alarmed by this account, I flew into her apartment; pride andresentment gave way to pity and fondness, and I besought her to takecomfort. I spoke, however, to a statue, she replied not, nor seemed tohear me. I then humbled myself to her as in the days of her innocenceand first power, supplicating her notice, entreating even hercommiseration! all was to no purpose; she neither received nor repulsedme, and was alike inattentive to exhortation and to prayer. 

"Whole hours did I spend at her feet, vowing never to arise till shespoke to me, --all, all, in vain! she seemed deaf, mute, insensible; herface unmoved, a settled despair fixed in her eyes, --those eyes that hadnever looked at me but with dove-like softness and compliance!--She satconstantly in one chair, she never changed her dress, no persuasionscould prevail with her to lie down, and at meals she just swallowed somuch dry bread as might save her from dying for want of food. 

"What was the distraction of my soul, to find her bent upon this courseto her last hour!--quick came that hour, but never will it beforgotten! rapidly it was gone, but eternally it will be remembered!

"When she felt herself expiring, she acknowledged she had made a vow, upon entering the house, to live speechless and motionless, as apennance for her offences!

"I kept her loved corpse till my own senses failed me, --it was thenonly torn from me, --and I have lost all recollection of three years ofmy existence!"

Cecilia shuddered at this hint, yet was not surprised by it; Mr Gosporthad acquainted her he had been formerly confined; and his flightiness, wildness, florid language, and extraordinary way of life, bad long ledher to suspect his reason had been impaired. 

"The scene to which my memory first leads me back, " he continued, "isvisiting her grave; solemnly upon it I returned her vow, though not byone of equal severity. To her poor remains did I pledge myself, thatthe day should never pass in which I would receive nourishment, nor thenight come in which I would take rest, till I had done, or zealouslyattempted to do, some service to a fellow-creature. 

"For this purpose have I wandered from city to city, from the town tothe country, and from the rich to the poor. I go into every house whereI can gain admittance, I admonish all who will hear me, I shame eventhose who will not. I seek the distressed where ever they are hid, Ifollow the prosperous to beg a mite to serve them. I look for theDissipated in public, where, amidst their licentiousness, I check them;I pursue the Unhappy in private, where I counsel and endeavour toassist them. My own power is small; my relations, during my sufferings, limiting me to an annuity; but there is no one I scruple to solicit, and by zeal I supply ability. 

"Oh life of hardship and pennance! laborious, toilsome, and restless!but I have merited no better, and I will not repine at it; I have vowedthat I will endure it, and I will not be forsworn. 

"One indulgence alone from time to time I allow myself, --'tis Music!which has power to delight me even to rapture! it quiets all anxiety, it carries me out of myself, I forget through it every calamity, eventhe bitterest anguish. 

"Now then, that thou hast heard me, tell me, hast _thou_ cause ofsorrow?"

"Alas, " cried Cecilia, "this indeed is a Picture of Misery to make _my_lot seem all happiness!"

"Art thou thus open to conviction?" cried he, mildly; "and dost thounot fly the voice of truth! for truth and reproof are one. "

"No, I would rather seek it; I feel myself wretched, however inadequatemay be the cause; I wish to be more resigned, and if you can instructme how, I shall thankfully attend to you. "

"Oh yet uncorrupted creature!" cried he, "with joy will I be thymonitor, --joy long untasted! Many have I wished to serve, all, hitherto, have rejected my offices; too honest to flatter them, theyhad not the fortitude to listen to me; too low to advance them, theyhad not the virtue to bear with me. You alone have I yet found pureenough not to fear inspection, and good enough to wish to be better. Yet words alone will not content me; I must also have deeds. Nor willyour purse, however readily opened, suffice, you must give to me alsoyour time and your thoughts; for money sent by others, to others onlywill afford relief; to enlighten your own cares, you must distribute ityourself. "

"You shall find me, " said she, "a docile pupil, and most glad to beinstructed how my existence may be useful. "

"Happy then, " cried he, "was the hour that brought me to this country;yet not in search of you did I come, but of the mutable and ill-fatedBelfield. Erring, yet ingenious young man! what a lesson to the vanityof talents, to the gaiety, the brilliancy of wit, is the sight of thatgreen fallen plant! not sapless by age, nor withered by disease, butdestroyed by want of pruning, and bending, breaking by its ownluxuriance!"

"And where, Sir, is he now?

"Labouring wilfully in the field, with those who labour compulsatorily;such are we all by nature, discontented, perverse, and changeable;though all have not courage to appear so, and few, like Belfield, areworth watching when they do. He told me he was happy; I knew it couldnot be: but his employment was inoffensive, and I left him withoutreproach. In this neighbourhood I heard of you, and found your name wascoupled with praise. I came to see if you deserved it; I have seen, andam satisfied. "

"You are not, then, very difficult, for I have yet done nothing. Howare we to begin these operations you propose? You have awakened me bythem to an expectation of pleasure, which nothing else, I believe, could just now have given me. "

"We will work, " cried he, "together, till not a woe shall remain uponyour mind. The blessings of the fatherless, the prayers of littlechildren, shall heal all your wounds with balm of sweetest fragrance. When sad, they shall cheer, when complaining, they shall soothe you. Wewill go to their roofless houses, and see them repaired; we willexclude from their dwellings the inclemency of the weather; we willclothe them from cold, we will rescue them from hunger. The cries ofdistress shall be changed to notes of joy: your heart shall beenraptured, mine, too, shall revive--oh whither am I wandering? I ampainting an Elysium! and while I idly speak, some fainting object diesfor want of succour! Farewell; I will fly to the abodes ofwretchedness, and come to you to-morrow to render them the abodes ofhappiness. "

He then went away. 

This singular visit was for Cecilia most fortunately timed: it almostsurprised her out of her peculiar grief, by the view which it opened toher of general calamity; wild, flighty, and imaginative as were hislanguage and his counsels, their morality was striking, and theirbenevolence was affecting. Taught by him to compare her state with thatof at least half her species, she began more candidly to weigh what wasleft with what was withdrawn, and found the balance in her favour. Theplan he had presented to her of good works was consonant to hercharacter and inclinations; and the active charity in which he proposedto engage her, re-animated her fallen hopes, though to far differentsubjects from those which had depressed them. Any scheme of worldlyhappiness would have sickened and disgusted her; but her mind was justin the situation to be impressed with elevated piety, and to adopt anydesign in which virtue humoured melancholy. 

CHAPTER ix. 

A SHOCK. 

Cecelia passed the rest of the day in fanciful projects of beneficence;she determined to wander with her romantic new ally whither-so-ever hewould lead her, and to spare neither fortune, time, nor trouble, inseeking and relieving the distressed. Not all her attempted philosophyhad calmed her mind like this plan; in merely refusing indulgence togrief, she had only locked it up in her heart, where eternallystruggling for vent, she was almost overpowered by restraining it; butnow her affliction had no longer her whole faculties to itself; thehope of doing good, the pleasure of easing pain, the intention ofdevoting her time to the service of the unhappy, once more delightedher imagination, --that source of promissory enjoyment, which thoughoften obstructed, is never, in youth, exhausted. 

She would not give Mrs Charlton the unnecessary pain of hearing theletter with which she had been so, much affected, but she told her ofthe visit of Albany, and pleased her with the account of their scheme. 

At night, with less sadness than usual, she retired to rest. In hersleep she bestowed riches, and poured plenty upon the land; she humbledthe oppressor, she exalted the oppressed; slaves were raised todignities, captives restored to liberty; beggars saw smiling abundance, and wretchedness was banished the world. From a cloud in which she wassupported by angels, Cecilia beheld these wonders, and while enjoyingthe glorious illusion, she was awakened by her maid, with news that MrsCharlton was dying!

She started up, and, undressed, was running to her apartment, --when themaid, calling to stop her, confessed she was already dead!

She had made her exit in the night, but the time was not exactly known;her own maid, who slept in the room with her, going early to herbedside to enquire how she did, found her cold and motionless, andcould only conclude that a paralytic stroke had taken her off. 

Happily and in good time had Cecilia been somewhat recruited by onenight of refreshing slumbers and flattering dreams, for the shock shenow received promised her not soon another. 

She lost in Mrs Charlton a friend, whom nearly from her infancy she hadconsidered as a mother, and by whom she had been cherished withtenderness almost unequalled. She was not a woman of bright parts, ormuch cultivation, but her heart was excellent, and her disposition wasamiable. Cecilia had known her longer than her memory could look back, though the earliest circumstances she could trace were kindnessesreceived from her. Since she had entered into life, and found thedifficulty of the part she had to act, to this worthy old lady alonehad she unbosomed her secret cares. Though little assisted by hercounsel, she was always certain of her sympathy; and while her ownsuperior judgment directed her conduct, she had the relief ofcommunicating her schemes, and weighing her perplexities, with a friendto whom nothing that concerned her was indifferent, and whose greatestwish and chief pleasure was the enjoyment of her conversation. 

If left to herself, in the present period of her life, Mrs Charlton hadcertainly not been the friend of her choice. The delicacy of her mind, and the refinement of her ideas, had now rendered her fastidious, andshe would have looked out for elegancies and talents to which MrsCharlton had no pretensions: but those who live in the country havelittle power of selection; confined to a small circle, they must becontent with what it offers; and however they may idolize extraordinarymerit when they meet with it, they must not regard it as essential tofriendship, for in their circumscribed rotation, whatever may be theirdiscontent, they can make but little change. 

Such had been the situation to which Mrs Charlton and Mrs Harrel owedthe friendship of Cecilia. Greatly their superior in understanding andintelligence, had the candidates for her favour been more numerous, theelection had not fallen upon either of them. But she became known toboth before discrimination made her difficult, and when her enlightenedmind discerned their deficiencies, they had already an interest in heraffections, which made her see them with lenity: and though sometimes, perhaps, conscious she should not have chosen them from many, sheadhered to them with sincerity, and would have changed them for none. 

Mrs Harrel, however, too weak for similar sentiments, forgot her whenout of sight, and by the time they met again, was insensible toeverything but shew and dissipation. Cecilia, shocked and surprised, first grieved from disappointed affection, and then lost that affectionin angry contempt. But her fondness for Mrs Charlton had never knownabatement, as the kindness which had excited it had never known allay. She had loved her first from childish gratitude; but that love, strengthened and confirmed by confidential intercourse, was now assincere and affectionate as if it had originated from sympatheticadmiration. Her loss, therefore, was felt with the utmost severity, andneither seeing nor knowing any means of replacing it, she considered itas irreparable, and mourned it with bitterness. 

When the first surprize of this cruel stroke was somewhat lessened, shesent an express to Mr Monckton with the news, and entreated to see himimmediately. He came without delay, and she begged his counsel whatstep she ought herself to take in consequence of this event. Her ownhouse was still unprepared for her; she had of late neglected to hastenthe workmen, and almost forgotten her intention of entering it. It wasnecessary, however, to change her abode immediately; she was no longerin the house of Mrs Charlton, but of her grand-daughters and co-heiresses, each of whom she disliked, and upon neither of whom she hadany claim. 

Mr Monckton then, with the quickness of a man who utters a thought atthe very moment of its projection, mentioned a scheme upon which duringhis whole ride he had been ruminating; which was that she wouldinstantly remove to his house, and remain there till settled to hersatisfaction. 

Cecilia objected her little right of surprising Lady Margaret; but, without waiting to discuss it, lest new objections should arise, hequitted her, to fetch himself from her ladyship an invitation he meantto insist upon her sending. 

Cecilia, though heartily disliking this plan, knew not at present whatbetter to adopt, and thought anything preferable to going again to MrsHarrel, since that only could be done by feeding the anxiety of MrArnott. 

Mr Monckton soon returned with a message of his own fabrication; forhis lady, though obliged to receive whom he pleased, took care to guardinviolate the independence of speech, sullenly persevering in refusingto say anything, or perversely saying only what he least wished tohear. 

Cecilia then took a hasty leave of Miss Charltons, who, little affectedby what they had lost, and eager to examine what they had gained, parted from her gladly, and, with a heavy heart and weeping eyes, borrowed for the last time the carriage of her late worthy old friend, and for-ever quitting her hospitable house, sorrowfully set out for theGrove. 

BOOK IX. 

CHAPTER i. 

A COGITATION. 

Lady Margaret Monckton received Cecilia with the most gloomy coldness:she apologised for the liberty she had taken in making use of herladyship's house, but, meeting no return of civility, she withdrew tothe room which had been prepared for her, and resolved as much aspossible to keep out of her sight. 

It now became necessary without further delay to settle her plan oflife, and fix her place of residence. The forbidding looks of LadyMargaret made her hasten her resolves, which otherwise would for awhile have given way to grief for her recent misfortune. 

She sent for the surveyor who had the superintendance of her estates, to enquire how soon her own house would be fit for her reception; andheard there was yet work for near two months. 

This answer made her very uncomfortable. To continue two months underthe roof with Lady Margaret was a penance she could not enjoin herself, nor was she at all sure Lady Margaret would submit to it any better:she determined, therefore, to release herself from the consciousburthen of being an unwelcome visitor, by boarding with some creditablefamily at Bury, and devoting the two months in which she was to be keptfrom her house, to a general arrangement of her affairs, and a finalsettling with her guardians. 

For these purposes it would be necessary she should go to London: butwith whom, or in what manner, she could not decide. She desired, therefore, another conference with Mr Monckton, who met her in theparlour. 

She then communicated to him her schemes; and begged his counsel in herperplexities. 

He was delighted at the application, and extremely well pleased withher design of boarding at Bury, well knowing, he could then watch andvisit her at his pleasure, and have far more comfort in her societythan even in his own house, where all the vigilance with which heobserved her, was short of that with which he was himself observed byLady Margaret. He endeavoured, however, to dissuade her from going totown, but her eagerness to pay the large sum she owed him, was now toogreat to be conquered. Of age, her fortune wholly in her power, and allattendance upon Mrs Charlton at an end, she had no longer any excusefor having a debt in the world, and would suffer no persuasion to makeher begin her career in life, with a negligence in settling heraccounts which she had so often censured in others. To go to Londontherefore she was fixed, and all that she desired was his adviceconcerning the journey. 

He then told her that in order to settle with her guardians, she mustwrite to them in form, to demand an account of the sums that had beenexpended during her minority, and announce her intention for the futureto take the management of her fortune into her own hands. 

She immediately followed his directions, and consented to remain at theGrove till their answers arrived. 

Being now, therefore, unavoidably fixed for some time at the house, shethought it proper and decent to attempt softening Lady Margaret in herfavour. She exerted all her powers to please and to oblige her; but theexertion was necessarily vain, not only from the disposition, but thesituation of her ladyship, since every effort made for thisconciliatory purpose, rendered her doubly amiable in the eyes of herhusband, and consequently to herself more odious than ever. Herjealousy, already but too well founded, received every hour thepoisonous nourishment of fresh conviction, which so much soured andexasperated a temper naturally harsh, that her malignity and ill-humour grew daily more acrimonious. Nor would she have contentedherself with displaying this irascibility by general moroseness, hadnot the same suspicious watchfulness which discovered to her thepassion of her husband, served equally to make manifest theindifference and innocence of Cecilia; to reproach her therefore, shehad not any pretence, though her knowledge how much she had to dreadher, past current in her mind for sufficient reason to hate her. TheAngry and the Violent use little discrimination; whom they like, theyenquire not if they approve; but whoever, no matter how unwittingly, stands in their way, they scruple not to ill use, and conclude they maylaudably detest. 

Cecilia, though much disgusted, gave not over her attempt, which sheconsidered but as her due while she continued in her house. Her generalcharacter, also, for peevishness and haughty ill-breeding, skilfully, from time to time, displayed, and artfully repined at by Mr Monckton, still kept her from suspecting any peculiar animosity to herself, andmade her impute all that passed to the mere rancour of ill-humour. Sheconfined herself, however, as much as possible to her own apartment, where her sorrow for Mrs Charlton almost hourly increased, by thecomparison she was forced upon making of her house with the Grove. 

That worthy old lady left her grand-daughters her co-heiresses and soleexecutrixes. She bequeathed from them nothing considerable, though sheleft some donations for the poor, and several of her friends wereremembered by small legacies. Among them Cecilia had her picture, andfavourite trinkets, with a paragraph in her will, that as there was noone she so much loved, had her fortune been less splendid, she shouldhave shared with her grand-daughters whatever she had to bestow. 

Cecilia was much affected by this last and solemn remembrance. She morethan ever coveted to be alone, that she might grieve undisturbed, andshe lamented without ceasing the fatigue and the illness which, in solate a period, as it proved, of her life, she had herself been themeans of occasioning to her. 

Mr Monckton had too much prudence to interrupt this desire of solitude, which indeed cost him little pain, as he considered her least in dangerwhen alone. She received in about a week answers from both herguardians. Mr Delvile's letter was closely to the purpose, without aword but of business, and couched in the haughtiest terms. As he hadnever, he said, acted, he had no accounts to send in; but as he wasgoing to town in a few days, he would see her for a moment in thepresence of Mr Briggs, that a joint release might be signed, to preventany future application to him. 

Cecilia much lamented there was any necessity for her seeing him atall, and looked forward to the interview as the greatest mortificationshe could suffer. 

Mr Briggs, though still more concise, was far kinder in his language:but he advised her to defer her scheme of taking the money into her ownhands, assuring her she would be cheated, and had better leave it tohim. 

When she communicated these epistles to Mr Monckton, he failed not toread, with an emphasis, by which his arrogant meaning was still morearrogantly enforced, the letter of Mr Delvile aloud. Nor was he sparingin comments that might render it yet more offensive. Cecilia neitherconcurred in what he said, nor opposed it, but contented herself, whenhe was silent, with producing the other letter. 

Mr Monckton read not this with more favour. He openly attacked thecharacter of Briggs, as covetous, rapacious, and over-reaching, andwarned her by no means to abide by his counsel, without first takingthe opinion of some disinterested person. He then stated the variousarts which might be practised upon her inexperience, enumerated thedangers to which her ignorance of business exposed her, and annotatedupon the cheats, double dealings, and tricks of stock jobbing, to whichhe assured her Mr Briggs owed all he was worth, till, perplexed andconfounded, she declared herself at a loss how to proceed, andearnestly regretted that she could not have his counsel upon the spot. 

This was his aim: to draw the wish from her, drew all suspicion ofselfish views from himself: and he told her that he considered herpresent situation as so critical, the future confusion or regularity ofher money transactions seeming to depend upon it, that he wouldendeavour to arrange his affairs for meeting her in London. 

Cecilia gave him many thanks for the kind intention, and determined tobe totally guided by him in the disposal and direction of her fortune. 

Mean time he had now another part to act; he saw that with Cecilianothing more remained to be done, and that, harbouring not a doubt ofhis motives, she thought his design in her favour did her nothing buthonour; but he had too much knowledge of the world to believe it wouldjudge him in the same manner, and too much consciousness of duplicityto set its judgment at defiance. 

To parry, therefore, the conjectures which might follow his attendingher, he had already prepared Lady Margaret to wish herself of theparty: for however disagreeable to him was her presence and hercompany, he had no other means to be under the same roof with Cecilia. 

Miss Bennet, the wretched tool of his various schemes, and the meansycophant of his lady, had been employed by him to work upon herjealousy, by secretly informing her of his intention to go to town, atthe same time that Cecilia went thither to meet her guardians. Shepretended to have learned this intelligence by accident, and tocommunicate it from respectful regard; and advised her to go to Londonherself at the same time, that she might see into his designs, and besome check upon his pleasure. 

The encreasing infirmities of Lady Margaret made this counsel by nomeans palatable: but Miss Bennet, following the artful instructionswhich she received, put in her way so strong a motive, by assuring herhow little her company was wished, that in the madness of her spite shedetermined upon the journey. And little heeding how she tormentedherself while she had any view of tormenting Mr Monckton, she was ledon by her false confident to invite Cecilia to her own house. 

Mr Monckton, in whom by long practice, artifice was almost nature, wellknowing his wife's perverseness, affected to look much disconcerted atthe proposal; while Cecilia, by no means thinking it necessary toextend her compliance to such a punishment, instantly made an apology, and declined the invitation. 

Lady Margaret, little versed in civility, and unused to the arts ofpersuasion, could not, even for a favourite project, prevail uponherself to use entreaty, and therefore, thinking her scheme defeated, looked gloomily disappointed, and said nothing more. 

Mr Monckton saw with delight how much this difficulty inflamed her, though the moment he could speak alone with Cecilia he made it his careto remove it. 

He represented to her that, however privately she might live, she wastoo young to be in London lodgings by herself, and gave an hint whichshe could not but understand, that in going or in staying with onlyservants, suspicions might soon be raised, that the plan and motive ofher journey were different to those given out. 

She knew he meant to insinuate that it would be conjectured shedesigned to meet Delvile, and though colouring, vext and provoked atthe suggestion, the idea was sufficient to frighten her into his plan. 

In a few days, therefore, the matter was wholly arranged, Mr Monckton, by his skill and address, leading every one whither he pleased, while, by the artful coolness of his manner, he appeared but to followhimself. He [set] out the day before, though earnestly wishing toaccompany them, but having as yet in no single instance gone to town inthe same carriage with Lady Margaret, he dared trust neither theneighbourhood nor the servants with so dangerous a subject for theircomments. 

Cecilia, compelled thus to travel with only her Ladyship and MissBennet, had a journey the most disagreeable, and determined, ifpossible, to stay in London but two days. She had already fixed upon ahouse in which she could board at Bury when she returned, and there shemeant quietly to reside till she could enter her own. 

Lady Margaret herself, exhilarated by a notion of having outwitted herhusband, was in unusual good spirits, and almost in good humour. Theidea of thwarting his designs, and being in the way of hisentertainment, gave to her a delight she had seldom received from anything; and the belief that this was effected by the superiority of hercunning, doubled her contentment, and raised it to exultation. She owedhim, indeed, much provocation and uneasiness, and was happy in thisopportunity of paying her arrears. 

Mean while that consummate master in every species of hypocrisy, indulged her in this notion, by the air of dissatisfaction with whichhe left the house. It was not that she meant by her presence to obviateany impropriety: early and long acquainted with the character ofCecilia, she well knew, that during her life the passion of her husbandmust be confined to his own breast: but conscious of his aversion toherself, which she resented with the bitterest ill-will, and knowinghow little, at any time, he desired her company, she consoled herselffor her inability to give pleasure by the power she possessed of givingpain, and bore with the fatigue of a journey disagreeable andinconvenient to her, with no other view than the hope of breaking intohis plan of avoiding her. Little imagining that the whole time she wasforwarding his favourite pursuit, and only acting the part which he hadappointed her to perform. 

CHAPTER ii. 

A SURPRIZE. 

Lady Margaret's town house was in Soho Square; and scarcely had Ceciliaentered it, before her desire to speed her departure, made her send anote to each of her guardians, acquainting them of her arrival, andbegging, if possible, to see them the next day. 

She had soon the two following answers:

_To Miss Cecilia Beverley, ----TheseNovember_ 8, 1779. Miss, --Received yours of the same date; can't cometomorrow. Will, Wednesday the 10th. --Am, &c. , Jno. Briggs. 

Miss Cecilia Beverley

_To Miss Beverley_. 

Mr Delvile has too many affairs of importance upon his hands, to makeany appointment till he has deliberated how to arrange them. Mr Delvilewill acquaint Miss Beverley when it shall be in his power to see her. 

St James's-square, _Nov_ 8. 

These characteristic letters, which at another time might have divertedCecilia, now merely served to torment her. She was eager to quit town, she was more eager to have her meeting with Mr Delvile over, who, oppressive to her even when he meant to be kind, she foresaw, now hewas in wrath, would be imperious even to rudeness. Desirous, however, to make one interview suffice for both, and to settle whatever businessmight remain unfinished by letters, she again wrote to Mr Briggs, whomshe had not spirits to encounter without absolute necessity, andinforming him of Mr Delvile's delay, begged he would not troublehimself to call till he heard from her again. 

Two days passed without any message from them; they were spent chieflyalone, and very uncomfortably, Mr Monckton being content to see littleof her, while he knew she saw nothing of any body else. On the thirdmorning, weary of her own thoughts, weary of Lady Margaret's ill-humoured looks, and still more weary of Miss Bennet's parasiticalconversation, she determined, for a little relief to the heaviness ofher mind, to go to her bookseller, and look over and order into thecountry such new publications as seemed to promise her any pleasure. 

She sent therefore, for a chair, and glad to have devised for herselfany amusement, set out in it immediately. 

Upon entering the shop, she saw the Bookseller engaged in closeconference with a man meanly dressed, and much muffled up, who seemedtalking to him with uncommon earnestness, and just as she wasapproaching, said, "To terms I am indifferent, for writing is no labourto me; on the contrary, it is the first delight of my life, andtherefore, and not for dirty pelf, I wish to make it my profession. "

The speech struck Cecilia, but the voice struck her more, it wasBelfield's! and her amazement was so great, that she stopt short tolook at him, without heeding a man who attended her, and desired toknow her commands. 

The bookseller now perceiving her, came forward, and Belfield, turningto see who interrupted them, started as if a spectre had crossed hiseyes, slapped his hat over his face, and hastily went out of the shop. 

Cecilia checking her inclination to speak to him, from observing hiseagerness to escape her, soon recollected her own errand, and employedherself in looking over new books. 

Her surprize, however, at a change so sudden in the condition of thisyoung man, and at a declaration of a passion for writing, so oppositeto all the sentiments which he had professed at their late meeting inthe cottage, awakened in her a strong curiosity to be informed of hissituation; and after putting aside some books which she desired to havepacked up for her, she asked if the gentleman who had just left theshop, and who, she found by what he had said, was an Author, hadwritten anything that was published with his name?

"No, ma'am, " answered the Bookseller, "nothing of any consequence; heis known, however, to have written several things that have appeared asanonymous; and I fancy, now, soon, we shall see something considerablefrom him. "

"He is about some great work, then?"

"Why no, not exactly that, perhaps, at present; we must feel our way, with some little smart _jeu d'esprit_ before we undertake a great work. But he is a very great genius, and I doubt not will produce somethingextraordinary. "

"Whatever he produces, " said Cecilia, "as I have now chanced to seehim, I shall be glad you will, at any time, send to me. "

"Certainly, ma'am; but it must be among other things, for he does notchuse, just now to be known; and it is a rule in our business never totell people's names when they desire to be secret. He is a little outof cash, just now, as you may suppose by his appearance, so instead ofbuying books, he comes to sell them. However, he has taken a very goodroad to bring himself home again, for we pay very handsomely for thingsof any merit, especially if they deal smartly in a few touches of thetimes. "

Cecilia chose not to risk any further questions, lest her knowledge ofhim should be suspected, but got into her chair, and returned to LadyMargaret's. 

The sight of Belfield reminded her not only of himself; the gentleHenrietta again took her place in her memory, whence her variousdistresses and suspences had of late driven from it everybody butDelvile, and those whom Delvile brought into it. But her regard forthat amiable girl, though sunk in the busy scenes of her calamitousuncertainties, was only sunk in her own bosom, and ready, upon theirremoval, to revive with fresh vigour. She was now indeed more unhappythan even in the period of her forgetfulness, yet her mind, was nolonger filled with the restless turbulence of hope, which still morethan despondency unfitted it for thinking of others. 

This remembrance thus awakened, awakened also a desire of renewing theconnection so long neglected. All scruples concerning Delvile had nowlost their foundation, since the doubts from which they arose were bothexplained and removed: she was certain alike of his indifference toHenrietta, and his separation from herself; she knew that nothing wasto be feared from painful or offensive rivalry, and she resolved, therefore, to lose no time in seeking the first pleasure to which sinceher disappointment she had voluntarily looked forward. 

Early in the evening, she told Lady Margaret she was going out for anhour or two, and sending again for a chair, was carried to Portland-street. 

She enquired for Miss Belfield, and was shewn into a parlour, where shefound her drinking tea with her mother, and Mr Hobson, their landlord. 

Henrietta almost screamed at her sight, from a sudden impulse of joyand surprize, and, running up to her, flung her arms round her neck, and embraced her with the most rapturous emotion: but then, drawingback with a look of timidity and shame, she bashfully apologized forher freedom, saying, "Indeed, dearest Miss Beverley, it is no want ofrespect, but I am so very glad to see you it makes me quite forgetmyself!"

Cecilia, charmed at a reception so ingenuously affectionate, soonsatisfied her doubting diffidence by the warmest thanks that she hadpreserved so much regard for her, and by doubling the kindness withwhich she returned her caresses. 

"Mercy on me, madam, " cried Mrs Belfield, who during this time had beenbusily employed in sweeping the hearth, wiping some slops upon thetable, and smoothing her handkerchief and apron, "why the girl's enoughto smother you. Henny, how can you be so troublesome? I never saw youbehave in this way before. "

"Miss Beverley, madam, " said Henrietta, again retreating, "is so kindas to pardon me, and I was so much surprised at seeing her, that Ihardly knew what I was about. "

"The young ladies, ma'am, " said Mr Hobson, "have a mighty way ofsaluting one another till such time as they get husbands: and then I'llwarrant you they can meet without any salutation at all. That's myremark, at least, and what I've seen of the world has set me uponmaking it. "

This speech led Cecilia to check, however artless, the tenderness ofher fervent young friend, whom she was much teized by meeting in suchcompany, but who seemed not to dare understand the frequent looks whichshe gave her expressive of a wish to be alone with her. 

"Come, ladies, " continued the facetious Mr Hobson, "what if we were allto sit down, and have a good dish of tea? and suppose, Mrs Belfield, you was to order us a fresh round of toast and butter? do you think theyoung ladies here would have any objection? and what if we were to havea little more water in the tea-kettle? not forgetting a little more teain the teapot. What I say is this, let us all be comfortable; that's mynotion of things. "

"And a very good notion too, " said Mrs Belfield, "for you who havenothing to vex you. Ah, ma'am, you have heard, I suppose, about my son?gone off! nobody knows where! left that lord's house, where he mighthave lived like a king, and gone out into the wide world nobody knowsfor what!"

"Indeed?" said Cecilia, who, from seeing him in London concluded he wasagain with his family, "and has he not acquainted you where he is?"

"No, ma'am, no, " cried Mrs Belfield, "he's never once told me where heis gone, nor let me know the least about the matter, for if I did Iwould not taste a dish of tea again for a twelvemonth till I saw himget back again to that lord's! and I believe in my heart there's neversuch another in the three kingdoms, for he has sent here after him Idare say a score of times. And no wonder, for I will take upon me tosay he won't find his fellow in a hurry, Lord as he is. "

"As to his being a Lord, " said Mr Hobson, "I am one of them that lay nogreat stress upon that, unless he has got a good long purse of his own, and then, to be sure, a Lord's no bad thing. But as to the matter ofsaying Lord such a one, how d'ye do? and Lord such a one, what do youwant? and such sort of compliments, why in my mind, it's a merenothing, in comparison of a good income. As to your son, ma'am, he didnot go the right way to work. He should have begun with business, andgone into pleasure afterwards and if he had but done that, I'll be boldto say we might have had him at this very minute drinking tea with usover this fireside. "

"My son, Sir, " said Mrs Belfield, rather angrily, "was another sort ofa person than a person of business: he always despised it from a child, and come of it what may, I am sure he was born to be a gentleman. "

"As to his despising business, " said Mr Hobson, very contemptuously, "why so much the worse, for business is no such despiseable thing. Andif he had been brought up behind a counter, instead of dangling afterthese same Lords, why he might have had a house of his own over hishead, and been as good a man as myself. "

"A house over his head?" said Mrs Belfield, "why he might have had whathe would, and have done what he would, if he had but followed myadvice, and put himself a little forward. I have told him a hundredtimes to ask some of those great people he lived amongst for a place atcourt, for I know they've so many they hardly know what to do withthem, and it was always my design from the beginning that he should besomething of a great man; but I never could persuade him, though, foranything I know, as I have often told him, if he had but had a littlecourage he might have been an Ambassador by this time. And now, all ofa sudden, to be gone nobody knows where!"--

"I am sorry, indeed, " said Cecilia, who knew not whether most to pityor wonder at her blind folly; "but I doubt not you will hear of himsoon. "

"As to being an Ambassador, ma'am, " said Mr Hobson, "it's talking quiteout of character. Those sort of great people keep things of that kindfor their own poor relations and cousins. What I say is this; a man'sbest way is to take care of himself. The more those great people seeyou want them, the less they like your company. Let every man bebrought up to business, and then when he's made his fortune, he maywalk with his hat on. Why now there was your friend, ma'am, " turning toCecilia, "that shot out his brains without paying any body a souse;pray how was that being more genteel than standing behind a counter, and not owing a shilling?"

"Do you think a young lady, " cried Mrs Belfield warmly, "can bear tohear of such a thing as standing behind a counter? I am sure if my sonhad ever done it, I should not expect any lady would so much as look athim, And yet, though I say it, she might look a good while, and not seemany such persons, let her look where she pleased. And then he has sucha winning manner into the bargain, that I believe in my heart there'snever a lady in the land could say no to him. And yet he has such aprodigious shyness, I never could make him own he had so much as askedthe question. And what lady can begin first?"

"Why no, " said Mr Hobson, "that would be out of character another way. Now my notion is this; let every man be agreeable! and then he may askwhat lady he pleases. And when he's a mind of a lady, he should lookupon a frown or two as nothing; for the ladies frown in courtship as athing of course; it's just like a man swearing at a coachman; why he'snot a bit more in a passion, only he thinks he sha'n't be mindedwithout it. "

"Well, for my part, " said Mrs Belfield, "I am sure if I was a younglady, and most especially if I was a young lady of fortune, and allthat, I should like a modest young gentleman, such as my son, forexample, better by half than a bold swearing young fellow, that wouldmake a point to have me whether I would or no. "

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" cried Mr Hobson; "but the young ladies are not of thatway of thinking; they are all for a little life and spirit. Don't I sayright, young ladies?"

Cecilia, who could not but perceive that these speeches was levelled atherself, felt offended and tired; and finding she had no chance of anyprivate conversation with Henrietta, arose to take leave: but while shestopped in the passage to enquire when she could see her alone, afootman knocked at the door, who, having asked if Mr Belfield lodgedthere, and been answered in the affirmative; begged to know whetherMiss Beverley was then in the house?

Cecilia, much surprised, went forward, and told him who she was. 

"I have been, madam, " said he, "with a message to you at Mr Monckton's, in Soho-Square: but nobody knew where you was; and Mr Monckton came outand spoke to me himself, and said that all he could suppose was thatyou might be at this house. So he directed me to come here. "

"And from whom, Sir, is your message?"

"From the honourable Mr Delvile, madam, in St James's-Square. Hedesires to know if you shall be at home on Saturday morning, the dayafter to-morrow, and whether you can appoint Mr Briggs to meet him bytwelve o'clock exactly, as he sha'n't be able to stay above threeminutes. "

Cecilia gave an answer as cold as the message; that she would be inSoho-Square at the time he mentioned, and acquaint Mr Briggs of hisintention. 

The footman then went away; and Henrietta told her, that if she couldcall some morning she might perhaps contrive to be alone with her, andadded, "indeed I wish much to see you, if you could possibly do me sogreat an honour; for I am very miserable, and have nobody to tell so!Ah, Miss Beverley! you that have so many friends, and that deserve asmany again, you little know what a hard thing it is to have none!--butmy brother's strange disappearing has half broke our hearts!"

Cecilia was beginning a consolatory speech, in which she meant to giveher private assurances of his health and safety, when she wasinterrupted by Mr Albany, who came suddenly into the passage. 

Henrietta received him with a look of pleasure, and enquired why he hadso long been absent; but, surprised by the sight of Cecilia, heexclaimed, without answering her, "why didst thou fail me? why appointme to a place thou wert quitting thyself?--thou thing of fairprofessions! thou inveigler of esteem! thou vain, delusive promiser ofpleasure!"

"You condemn me too hastily, " said Cecilia; if I failed in my promise, it was not owing to caprice or insincerity, but to a real and bittermisfortune which incapacitated me from keeping it. I shall soon, however, --nay, I am already at your disposal, if you have any commandsfor me. "

"I have always, " answered he, "commands for the rich, for I have alwayscompassion for the poor. "

"Come to me, then, at Mr Monckton's in Soho-Square, " cried she, andhastened into her chair, impatient to end a conference which she sawexcited the wonder of the servants, and which also now drew out fromthe parlour Mr Hobson and Mrs Belfield. She then kissed her hand toHenrietta, and ordered the chairmen to carry her home. 

It had not been without difficulty that she had restrained herself frommentioning what she knew of Belfield, when she found his mother andsister in a state of such painful uncertainty concerning him. But herutter ignorance of his plans, joined to her undoubted knowledge of hiswish of concealment, made her fear doing mischief by officiousness, andthink it wiser not to betray what she had seen of him, till betterinformed of his own views and intentions. Yet, willing to shorten asuspence so uneasy to them, she determined to entreat Mr Monckton wouldendeavour to find him out, and acquaint him with their anxiety. 

That gentleman, when she returned to his house, was in a state of mindby no means enviable. Missing her at tea, he had asked Miss Bennetwhere she was, and hearing she had not left word, he could scarceconceal his chagrin. Knowing, however, how few were her acquaintancesin town, he soon concluded she was with Miss Belfield, but, notsatisfied with sending Mr Delvile's messenger after her, he privatelyemployed one in whom he trusted for himself, to make enquiries at thehouse without saying whence he came. 

But though this man was returned, and he knew her safety, he still feltalarmed; he had flattered himself, from the length of time in which shehad now done nothing without consulting him, she would scarce eventhink of any action without his previous concurrence. And he had hoped, by a little longer use, to make his counsel become necessary, which heknew to be a very short step from rendering it absolute. 

Nor was he well pleased to perceive, by this voluntary excursion, astruggle to cast off her sadness, and a wish to procure herselfentertainment: it was not that he desired her misery, but he wasearnest that all relief from it should spring from himself: and thoughfar from displeased that Delvile should lose his sovereignty over herthoughts, he was yet of opinion that, till his own liberty wasrestored, he had less to apprehend from grief indulged, than griefallayed; one could but lead her to repining retirement, the other mightguide her to a consolatory rival. 

He well knew, however, it was as essential to his cause to disguise hisdisappointments as his expectations, and, certain that by pleasingalone he had any chance of acquiring power, he cleared up when Ceciliareturned, who as unconscious of feeling, as of owing any subjection tohim, preserved uncontrolled the right of acting for herself, howeverdesirous and glad of occasional instruction. 

She told him where she had been, and related her meeting Belfield, andthe unhappiness of his friends, and hinted her wish that he could beinformed what they suffered. Mr Monckton, eager to oblige her, wentinstantly in search of him, and returning to supper, told her he hadtraced him through the Bookseller, who had not the dexterity to parryhis artful enquiries, and had actually appointed him to breakfast inSoho-Square the next morning. 

He had found him, he said, writing, but in high spirits and goodhumour. He had resisted, for a while, his invitation on account of hisdress, all his clothes but the very coat which he had on being packedup and at his mother's: but, when laughed at by Mr Monckton for stillretaining some foppery, he gaily protested what remained of it shouldbe extinguished; and acknowledging that his shame was no part of hisphilosophy, declared he would throw it wholly aside, and, in spite ofhis degradation, renew his visits at his house. 

"I would not tell him, " Mr Monckton continued, "of the anxiety of hisfamily; I thought it would come more powerfully from yourself, who, having seen, can better enforce it. "

Cecilia was very thankful for this compliance with her request, andanticipated the pleasure she hoped soon to give Henrietta, by therestoration of a brother so much loved and so regretted. 

She sent, mean time, to Mr Briggs the message she had received from MrDelvile, and had the satisfaction of an answer that he would observethe appointment. 

CHAPTER iii. 

A CONFABULATION. 

The next morning, while the family was at breakfast, Belfield, according to his promise, made his visit. 

A high colour overspread his face as he entered the room, resultingfrom a sensation of grief at his fallen fortune, and shame at hisaltered appearance, which though he endeavoured to cover under an airof gaiety and unconcern, gave an awkwardness to his manners, and avisible distress to his countenance: Mr Monckton received him withpleasure, and Cecilia, who saw the conflict of his philosophy with hispride, dressed her features once more in smiles, which however faintand heartless, shewed her desire to reassure him. Miss Bennet, as usualwhen not called upon by the master or lady of the house, sat as acypher; and Lady Margaret, always disagreeable and repulsive to thefriends of her husband, though she was not now more than commonlyungracious, struck the quick-feeling and irritable Belfield, to wear anair of rude superiority meant to reproach him with his disgrace. 

This notion, which strongly affected him, made him, for one instant, hesitate whether he should remain another in the same room with her:but the friendliness of Mr Monckton, and the gentleness and goodbreeding of Cecilia, seemed so studious to make amends for hermoroseness, that he checked his too ready indignation, and took hisseat at the table. Yet was it some time before he could recover eventhe assumed vivacity which this suspected insult had robbed him of, sufficiently to enter into conversation with any appearance of ease orpleasure. But, after a while, soothed by the attentions of Cecilia andMr Monckton, his uneasiness wore off, and the native spirit andliveliness of his character broke forth with their accustomed energy. 

"This good company, I hope, " said he, addressing himself, however, onlyto Cecilia, "will not so much _mistake the thing_ as to criticise mydress of this morning; since it is perfectly according to rule, and torule established from time immemorial: but lest any of you should somuch err as to fancy shabby what is only characteristic, I mustendeavour to be beforehand with the malice of conjecture, and have thehonour to inform you, that I am enlisted in the Grub-street regiment, of the third story, and under the tattered banner of scribblingvolunteers! a race which, if it boasts not the courage of heroes, atleast equals them in enmity. This coat, therefore, is merely theuniform of my corps, and you will all, I hope, respect it asemblematical of wit and erudition. "

"We must at least respect you, " said Cecilia, "who thus gaily can sportwith it. "

"Ah, madam!" said he, more seriously, "it is not from you I ought tolook for respect! I must appear to you the most unsteady and coward-hearted of beings. But lately I blushed to see you from poverty, thoughmore worthily employed than when I had been seen by you in affluence;that shame vanquished, another equally narrow took its place, andyesterday I blushed again that you detected me in a new pursuit, thoughI had only quitted my former one from a conviction it was ill chosen. There seems in human nature a worthlessness not to be conquered! yet Iwill struggle with it to the last, and either die in the attempt, ordare seem that which I am, without adding to the miseries of life, thesting, the envenomed sting of dastardly false shame!"

"Your language is wonderfully altered within this twelvemonth, " said MrMonckton; "_the worthlessness of human nature_! the _miseries of life_!this from you! so lately the champion of human nature, and thepanegyrist of human life!"

"Soured by personal disappointment, " answered he, "I may perhaps speakwith too much acrimony; yet, ultimately, my opinions have not muchchanged. Happiness is given to us with more liberality than we arewilling to confess; it is judgment only that is dealt us sparingly, andof that we have so little, that when felicity is before us, we turn tothe right or left, or when at the right or left, we proceed straitforward. It has been so with me; I have sought it at a distance, amidstdifficulty and danger, when all that I could wish has been immediatelywithin my grasp. "

"It must be owned, " said Mr Monckton, "after what you have sufferedfrom this world you were wont to defend, there is little reason towonder at some change in your opinion. "

"Yet whatever have been my sufferings, " he answered, "I have generallybeen involved in them by my own rashness or caprice. My last enterpriseespecially, from which my expectations were highest, was the most ill-judged of any. I considered not how little my way of life had fitted mefor the experiment I was making, how irreparably I was enervated bylong sedentary habits, and how insufficient for bodily strength wasmental resolution. We may fight against partial prejudices, and byspirit and fortitude we may overcome them; but it will not do to warwith the general tenor of education. We may blame, despise, regret aswe please, but customs long established, and habits long indulged, assume an empire despotic, though their power is but prescriptive. Opposing them is vain; Nature herself, when forced aside, is not moreelastic in her rebound. "

"Will you not then, " said Cecilia, "since your experiment has failed, return again to your family, and to the plan of life you formerlysettled?"

"You speak of them together, " said he, with a smile, "as if you thoughtthem inseparable; and indeed my own apprehension they would be deemedso, has made me thus fear to see my friends, since I love notresistance, yet cannot again attempt the plan of life they would haveme pursue. I have given up my cottage, but my independence is as dearto me as ever; and all that I have gathered from experience, is tomaintain it by those employments for which my education has fitted me, instead of seeking it injudiciously by the very road for which it hasunqualified me. "

"And what is this independence, " cried Mr Monckton, "which has thusbewitched your imagination? a mere idle dream of romance andenthusiasm; without existence in nature, without possibility in life. In uncivilised countries, or in lawless times, independence, for awhile, may perhaps stalk abroad; but in a regular government, 'tis onlythe vision of a heated brain; one part of a community must inevitablyhang upon another, and 'tis a farce to call either independent, when tobreak the chain by which they are linked would prove destruction toboth. The soldier wants not the officer more than the officer thesoldier, nor the tenant the landlord, more than the landlord thetenant. The rich owe their distinction, their luxuries, to the poor, asmuch as the poor owe their rewards, their necessaries, to the rich. "

"Man treated as an Automaton, " answered Belfield, "and consideredmerely with respect to his bodily operations, may indeed be calleddependent, since the food by which he lives, or, rather, without whichhe dies, cannot wholly be cultivated and prepared by his own hands: butconsidered in a nobler sense, he deserves not the degrading epithet;speak of him, then, as a being of feeling and understanding, with prideto alarm, with nerves to tremble, with honour to satisfy, and with asoul to be immortal!--as such, may he not claim the freedom of his ownthoughts? may not that claim be extended to the liberty of speaking, and the power of being governed by them? and when thoughts, words, andactions are exempt from controul, will you brand him with dependencymerely because the Grazier feeds his meat, and the Baker kneads hisbread?"

"But who is there in the whole world, " said Mr Monckton, "extensive asit is, and dissimilar as are its inhabitants, that can pretend toassert, his thoughts, words, and actions, are exempt from controul?even where interest, which you so much disdain, interferes not, --though where that is I confess I cannot tell!--are we not kept silentwhere we wish to reprove by the fear of offending? and made speak wherewe wish to be silent by the desire of obliging? do we not bow to thescoundrel as low as to the man of honour? are we not by mere forms keptstanding when tired? made give place to those we despise? and smiles tothose we hate? or if we refuse these attentions, are we not regarded assavages, and shut out of society?"

"All these, " answered Belfield, "are so merely matters of ceremony, that the concession can neither cost pain to the proud, nor givepleasure to the vain. The bow is to the coat, the attention is to therank, and the fear of offending ought to extend to all mankind. Homagesuch as this infringes not our sincerity, since it is as much a matterof course as the dress that we wear, and has as little reason toflatter a man as the shadow which follows him. I no more, therefore, hold him deceitful for not opposing this pantomimical parade, than Ihold him to be dependent for eating corn he has not sown. "

"Where, then, do you draw the line? and what is the boundary beyondwhich your independence must not step?"

"I hold that man, " cried he, with energy, "to be independent, whotreats the Great as the Little, and the Little as the Great, whoneither exults in riches nor blushes in poverty, who owes no man agroat, and who spends not a shilling he has not earned. "

"You will not, indeed, then, have a very numerous acquaintance, if thisis the description of those with whom you purpose to associate! but isit possible you imagine you can live by such notions? why theCarthusian in his monastery, who is at least removed from temptation, is not mortified so severely as a man of spirit living in the world, who would prescribe himself such rules. "

"Not merely have I prescribed, " returned Belfield, "I have already putthem in practice; and far from finding any pennance, I never beforefound happiness. I have now adopted, though poor, the very plan of lifeI should have elected if rich; my pleasure, therefore, is become mybusiness, and my business my pleasure. "

"And is this plan, " cried Monckton, "nothing more than turning Knight-errant to the Booksellers?"

"'Tis a Knight-errantry, " answered Belfield, laughing, "which, howeverludicrous it may seem to you, requires more soul and more brains thanany other. Our giants may, indeed, be only windmills, but they must beattacked with as much spirit, and conquered with as much bravery, asany fort or any town, in time of war [to] be demolished; and though thesiege, I must confess, may be of less national utility, the assailantsof the quill have their honour as much at heart as the assailants ofthe sword. "

"I suppose then, " said Monckton, archly, "if a man wants a bitinglampoon, or an handsome panegyric, some newspaper scandal, or a sonnetfor a lady--"

"No, no, " interrupted Belfield eagerly, "if you imagine me a hirelingscribbler for the purposes of defamation or of flattery, you as littleknow my situation as my character. My subjects shall be my own, and mysatire shall be general. I would as much disdain to be personal with ananonymous pen, as to attack an unarmed man in the dark with a dagger Ihad kept concealed. "

A reply of rallying incredulity was rising to the lips of Mr Monckton, when reading in the looks of Cecilia an entire approbation of thissentiment, he checked his desire of ridicule, and exclaimed, "spokenlike a man of honour, and one whose works may profit the world!"

"From my earliest youth to the present hour, " continued Belfield, "literature has been the favourite object of my pursuit, my recreationin leisure, and my hope in employment. My propensity to it, indeed, hasbeen so ungovernable, that I may properly call it the source of myseveral miscarriages throughout life. It was the bar to my preferment, for it gave me a distaste to other studies; it was the cause of myunsteadiness in all my undertakings, because to all I preferred it. Ithas sunk me to distress, it has involved me in difficulties; it hasbrought me to the brink of ruin by making me neglect the means ofliving, yet never, till now, did I discern it might itself be mysupport. "

"I am heartily glad, Sir, " said Cecilia, "your various enterprizes andstruggles have at length ended in a project which promises you so muchsatisfaction. But you will surely suffer your sister and your mother topartake of it? for who is there that your prosperity will make sohappy?"

"You do them infinite honour, madam, by taking any interest in theiraffairs; but to own to you the truth, what to me appears prosperity, will to them wear another aspect. They have looked forward to myelevation with expectations the most improbable, and thought everythingwithin my grasp, with a simplicity incredible. But though their hopeswere absurd, I am pained by their disappointment, and I have notcourage to meet their tears, which I am sure will not be spared whenthey see me. "

"'Tis from tenderness, then, " said Cecilia, half smiling, "that you arecruel, and from affection to your friends that you make them believeyou have forgotten them?"

There was a delicacy in this reproach exactly suited to work uponBelfield, who feeling it with quickness, started up, and cried, "Ibelieve I am wrong!--I will go to them this moment!"

Cecilia felt eager to second the generous impulse; but Mr Monckton, laughing at his impetuosity, insisted he should first finish hisbreakfast. 

"Your friends, " said Cecilia, "can have no mortification so hard tobear as your voluntary absence; and if they see but that you are happy, they will soon be reconciled to whatever situation you may chuse. "

"Happy!" repeated he, with animation, "Oh I am in Paradise! I am comefrom a region in the first rude state of nature, to civilization andrefinement! the life I led at the cottage was the life of a savage; nointercourse with society, no consolation from books; my mind locked up, every source dried of intellectual delight, and no enjoyment in mypower but from sleep and from food. Weary of an existence which thuslevelled me with a brute, I grew ashamed of the approximation, andlistening to the remonstrance of my understanding, I gave up theprecipitate plan, to pursue one more consonant to reason. I came totown, hired a room, and sent for pen, ink and paper: what I havewritten are trifles, but the Bookseller has not rejected them. I wassettled, therefore, in a moment, and comparing my new occupation withthat I had just quitted, I seemed exalted on the sudden from a merecreature of instinct, to a rational and intelligent being. But whenfirst I opened a book, after so long an abstinence from all mentalnourishment, --Oh it was rapture! no half-famished beggar regaledsuddenly with food, ever seized on his repast with more hungryavidity. "

"Let fortune turn which way it will, " cried Monckton, "you may defy allits malice, while possessed of a spirit of enjoyment which nothing cansubdue!"

"But were you not, Sir, " said Cecilia, "as great an enthusiast theother day for your cottage, and for labour?"

"I was, madam; but there my philosophy was erroneous: in my ardour tofly from meanness and from dependence, I thought in labour andretirement I should find freedom and happiness; but I forgot that mybody was not seasoned for such work, and considered not that a mindwhich had once been opened by knowledge, could ill endure thecontraction of dark and perpetual ignorance. The approach, however, ofwinter, brought me acquainted with my mistake. It grew cold, it grewbleak; little guarded against the inclemency of the ----, I felt itsseverity in every limb, and missed a thousand indulgencies which inpossession I had never valued. To rise at break of day, chill, freezing, and comfortless! no sun abroad, no fire at home! to go out inall weather to work, that work rough, coarse, and laborious!--unusedto such hardships, I found I could not bear them, and, howeverunwillingly, was compelled to relinquish the attempt. "

Breakfast now being over, he again arose to take leave. 

"You are going, then, Sir, " said Cecilia, "immediately to yourfriends?"

"No, madam, " answered he hesitating, "not just this moment; to-morrowmorning perhaps, --but it is now late, and I have business for the restof the day. "

"Ah, Mr Monckton!" cried Cecilia, "what mischief have you done byoccasioning this delay!"

"This goodness, madam, " said Belfield, "my sister can neversufficiently acknowledge. But I will own, that though, just now, in awarm moment, I felt eager to present myself to her and my mother, Irather wish, now I am cooler, to be saved the pain of telling them inperson my situation. I mean, therefore, first to write to them. "

"You will not fail, then, to see them to-morrow?"

"Certainly--I think not. "

"Nay, but certainly you _must_ not, for I shall call upon them to-day, and assure them they may expect you. Can I soften your task of writingby giving them any message from you?"

"Ah, madam, have a care!" cried he; "this condescension to a poorauthor may be more dangerous than you have any suspicion! and beforeyou have power to help yourself, you may see your name prefixed to theDedication of some trumpery pamphlet!"

"I will run, " cried she, "all risks; remember, therefore, you will beresponsible for the performance of my promise. "

"I will be sure, " answered he, "not to forget what reflects so muchhonour upon myself. "

Cecilia was satisfied by this assent, and he then went away. 

"A strange flighty character!" cried Mr Monckton, "yet of uncommoncapacity, and full of genius. Were he less imaginative, wild andeccentric, he has abilities for any station, and might fix anddistinguish himself almost where-ever he pleased. "

"I knew not, " said Cecilia, "the full worth of steadiness and prudencetill I knew this young man; for he has every thing else; talents themost striking, a love of virtue the most elevated, and manners the mostpleasing; yet wanting steadiness and prudence, he can neither act withconsistency nor prosper with continuance. "

"He is well enough, " said Lady Margaret, who had heard the wholeargument in sullen taciturnity, "he is well enough, I say; and therecomes no good from young women's being so difficult. "

Cecilia, offended by a speech which implied a rude desire to dispose ofher, went up stairs to her own room; and Mr Monckton, always enragedwhen young men and Cecilia were alluded to in the same sentence, retired to his library. 

She then ordered a chair, and went to Portland-street, to fulfil whatshe had offered to Belfield, and to revive his mother and sister by thepleasure of the promised interview. 

She found them together: and her intelligence being of equalconsequence to both, she did not now repine at the presence of MrsBelfield. She made her communication with the most cautious attentionto their characters, softening the ill she had to relate with respectto Belfield's present way of living, by endeavouring to awakenaffection and joy from the prospect of the approaching meeting. Shecounselled them as much as possible to restrain their chagrin at hismisfortunes, which he would but construe into reproach of his illmanagement; and she represented that when once he was restored to hisfamily, he might almost imperceptibly be led into some less wild andmore profitable scheme of business. 

When she had told all she thought proper to relate, kindlyinterspersing her account with the best advice and best comfort shecould suggest, she made an end of her visit; for the affliction of MrsBelfield upon hearing the actual situation of her son, was so clamorousand unappeaseable, that, little wondering at Belfield's want of courageto encounter it, and having no opportunity in such a storm to consolethe soft Henrietta, whose tears flowed abundantly that her brothershould thus be fallen, she only promised before she left town to seeher again, and beseeching Mrs Belfield to moderate her concern, wasglad to leave the house, where her presence had no power to quiet theirdistress. 

She passed the rest of the day in sad reflections upon the meeting shewas herself to have the next morning with Mr Delvile. She wishedardently to know whether his son was gone abroad, and whether MrsDelvile was recovered, whose health, in her own letter, was mentionedin terms the most melancholy: yet neither of these enquiries could sheeven think of making, since reasonably, without them, apprehensive ofsome reproach. 

CHAPTER iv. 

A WRANGLING. 

Mr Monckton, the next day, as soon as breakfast was over, went out, toavoid showing, even to Cecilia, the anxiety he felt concerning theregulation of her fortune, and arrangement of her affairs. He strongly, however, advised her not to mention her large debt, which, thoughcontracted in the innocence of the purest benevolence, would incurnothing but reproof and disapprobation, from all who only heard of it, when they heard of its inutility. 

At eleven o'clock, though an hour before the time appointed, whileCecilia was sitting in Lady Margaret's dressing room, "with sadcivility and an aching head, " she was summoned to Mr Briggs in theparlour. 

He immediately began reproaching her with having eloped from him, inthe summer, and with the various expences she had caused him fromuseless purchases and spoilt provisions. He then complained of MrDelvile, whom he charged with defrauding him of his dues; but observingin the midst of his railing her dejection of countenance, he suddenlybroke off, and looking at her with some concern, said, "what's thematter, Ducky? a'n't well? look as if you could not help it. "

"O yes, " cried Cecilia, "I thank you, Sir, I am very well. "

"What do you look so blank for, then?" said he, "bay? what are frettingfor?--crossed in love?--lost your sweetheart?"

"No, no, no, " cried she, with quickness. 

"Never mind, my chick, never mind, " said he, pinching her cheek, withresumed good humour, "more to be had; if one won't snap, another will;put me in a passion by going off from me with that old grandee, orwould have got one long ago. Hate that old Don; used me very ill; wishI could trounce him. Thinks more of a fusty old parchment than theprice of stocks. Fit for nothing but to be stuck upon an old monumentfor a Death's head. "

He then told her that her accounts were all made out, and he was readyat any time to produce them; he approved much of her finishing whollywith the _old Don_, who had been a mere cypher in the executorship; buthe advised her not to think of taking her money into her own hands, ashe was willing to keep the charge of it himself till she was married. 

Cecilia, thanking him for the offer, said she meant now to make heracknowledgments for all the trouble he had already taken, but by nomeans purposed to give him any more. 

He debated the matter with her warmly, told her she had no chance tosave herself from knaves and cheats, but by trusting to nobody buthimself, and informing her what interest he had already made of hermoney, enquired how she would set about getting more?

Cecilia, though prejudiced against him by Mr Monckton, knew not how tocombat his arguments; yet conscious that scarce any part of the moneyto which he alluded was in fact her own, she could not yield to them. He was, however, so stubborn and so difficult to deal with, that she atlength let him talk without troubling herself to answer, and privatelydetermined to beg Mr Monckton would fight her battle. 

She was not, therefore, displeased by his interruption, though verymuch surprised by the sight of his person, when, in the midst of MrBriggs's oratory, Mr Hobson entered the parlour. 

"I ask pardon, ma'am, " cried he, "if I intrude; but I made free to callupon the account of two ladies that are acquaintances of yours, thatare quite, as one may say, at their wit's ends. "

"What is the matter with them, Sir?"

"Why, ma'am, no great matter, but mothers are soon frightened, and whenonce they are upon the fret, one may as well talk to the boards! theyknow no more of reasoning and arguing, than they do of a shop ledger!however, my maxim is this; every body in their way; one has no moreright to expect courageousness from a lady in them cases, than one hasfrom a child in arms; for what I say is, they have not the proper useof their heads, which makes it very excusable. "

"But what has occasioned any alarm? nothing, I hope, is the matter withMiss Belfield?"

"No, ma'am; thank God, the young lady enjoys her health very well: butshe is taking on just in the same way as her mamma, as what can be morenatural? Example, ma'am, is apt to be catching, and one lady's cryingmakes another think she must do the same, for a little thing serves fora lady's tears, being they can cry at any time: but a man is quite ofanother nature, let him but have a good conscience, and be clear of theworld, and I'll engage he'll not wash his face without soap! that'swhat I say!"

"Will, will!" cried Mr Briggs, "do it myself! never use soap; nothingbut waste; take a little sand; does as well. "

"Let every man have his own proposal;" answered Hobson; "for my part, Itake every morning a large bowl of water, and souse my whole head init; and then when I've rubbed it dry, on goes my wig, and I am quitefresh and agreeable: and then I take a walk in Tottenham Court Road asfar as the Tabernacle, or thereabouts, and snuff in a little freshcountry air, and then I come back, with a good wholesome appetite, andin a fine breathing heat, asking the young lady's pardon; and I enjoymy pot of fresh tea, and my round of hot toast and butter, with as gooda relish as if I was a Prince. "

"Pot of fresh tea, " cried Briggs, "bring a man to ruin; toast andbutter! never suffer it in my house. Breakfast on water-gruel, soonerdone; fills one up in a second. Give it my servants; can't eat much ofit. Bob 'em there!" nodding significantly. 

"Water-gruel!" exclaimed Mr Hobson, "why I could not get it down if Imight have the world for it! it would make me quite sick, asking theyoung lady's pardon, by reason I should always think I was preparingfor the small-pox. My notion is quite of another nature; the firstthing I do is to have a good fire; for what I say is this, if a man iscold in his fingers, it's odds if ever he gets warm in his purse! ha!ha! warm, you take me, Sir? I mean a pun. Though I ought to ask pardon, for I suppose the young lady don't know what I am a saying. "

"I should indeed be better pleased, Sir, " said Cecilia, "to hear whatyou have to say about Miss Belfield. "

"Why, ma'am, the thing is this; we have been expecting the young'Squire, as I call him, all the morning, and he has never come; so MrsBelfield, not knowing where to send after him, was of opinion he mightbe here, knowing your kindness to him, and that. "

"You make the enquiry at the wrong place, Sir, " said Cecilia, muchprovoked by the implication it conveyed; "if Mr Belfield is in thishouse, you must seek him with Mr Monckton. "

"You take no offence, I hope, ma'am, at my just asking of the question?for Mrs Belfield crying, and being in that dilemma, I thought I coulddo no less than oblige her by coming to see if the young gentleman washere. "

"What's this? what's this?" cried Mr Briggs eagerly; "who are talkingof? hay?--who do mean? is this the sweet heart? eh, Duck?"

"No, no, Sir, " cried Cecilia. 

"No tricks! won't be bit! who is it? will know; tell me, I say!"

"_I'll_ tell Sir, " cried Mr Hobson; "it's a very handsome younggentleman, with as fine a person, and as genteel a way of behaviour, and withal, as pretty a manner of dressing himself, and that, as anylady need desire. He has no great head for business, as I am told, butthe ladies don't stand much upon that topic, being they know nothing ofit themselves. "

"Has got the ready?" cried Mr Briggs, impatiently; "can cast anaccount? that's the point; can come down handsomely? eh?"

"Why as to that, Sir, I'm not bound to speak to a gentleman's privateaffairs. What's my own, is my own, and what is another person's, isanother person's; that's my way of arguing, and that's what I calltalking to the purpose. "

"Dare say he's a rogue! don't have him, chick. Bet a wager i'n't worthtwo shillings; and that will go for powder and pomatum; hate aplaistered pate; commonly a numscull: love a good bob-jerom. "

"Why this is talking quite wide of the mark, " said Mr Hobson, "tosuppose a young lady of fortunes would marry a man with a bob-jerom. What I say is, let every body follow their nature; that's the way to becomfortable; and then if they pay every one his own, who's a right tocall 'em to account, whether they wear a bob-jerom, or a pig-tail downto the calves of their legs?"

"Ay, ay, " cried Briggs, sneeringly, "or whether they stuff theirgullets with hot rounds of toast and butter. "

"And what if they do, Sir?" returned Hobson, a little angrily; "when aman's got above the world, where's the harm of living a little genteel?as to a round of toast and butter, and a few oysters, fresh opened, byway of a damper before dinner, no man need be ashamed of them, providedhe pays as he goes: and as to living upon water-gruel, and scrubbingone's flesh with sand, one might as well be a galley-slave at once. You don't understand life, Sir, I see that. "

"Do! do!" cried Briggs, speaking through his shut teeth; "you're outthere! oysters!--come to ruin, tell you! bring you to jail!"

"To jail, Sir?" exclaimed Hobson, "this is talking quite ungenteel! letevery man be civil; that's what I say, for that's the way to make everything agreeable but as to telling a man he'll go to jail, and that, it's tantamount to affronting him. "

A rap at the street-door gave now a new relief to Cecilia, who began togrow very apprehensive lest the delight of spending money, thus warmlycontested with that of hoarding it, should give rise to a quarrel, which, between two such sturdy champions for their own opinions, mightlead to a conclusion rather more rough and violent than she desired towitness: but when the parlour-door opened, instead of Mr Delvile, whomshe now fully expected, Mr Albany made his entrance. 

This was rather distressing, as her real business with her guardiansmade it proper her conference with them should be undisturbed: andAlbany was not a man with whom a hint that she was engaged could berisked: but she had made no preparation to guard against interruption, as her little acquaintance in London had prevented her expecting anyvisitors. 

He advanced with a solemn air to Cecilia, and, looking as if hardlydetermined whether to speak with severity or gentleness, said, "oncemore I come to prove thy sincerity; now wilt thou go with me wheresorrow calls thee? sorrow thy charity can mitigate?"

"I am very much concerned, " she answered, "but indeed at present it isutterly impossible. "

"Again, " cried he, with a look at once stern and disappointed, "againthou failest me? what wanton trifling! why shouldst thou thus elate aworn-out mind, only to make it feel its lingering credulity? or why, teaching me to think I had found an angel, so unkindly undeceive me?"

"Indeed, " said Cecilia, much affected by this reproof, "if you knew howheavy a loss I had personally suffered--"

"I do know it, " cried he, "and I grieved for thee when I heard it. Thouhast lost a faithful old friend, a loss which with every setting sunthou mayst mourn, for the rising sun will never repair it! but was thata reason for shunning the duties of humanity? was the sight of death amotive for neglecting the claims of benevolence? ought it not rather tohave hastened your fulfilling them? and should not your own sufferingexperience of the brevity of life, have taught you the vanity of allthings but preparing for its end?"

"Perhaps so, but my grief at that time made me think only of myself. "

"And of what else dost thou think now?"

"Most probably of the same person still!" said she, half smiling, "butyet believe me, I have real business to transact. "

"Frivolous, unmeaning, ever-ready excuses! what business is soimportant as the relief of a fellow-creature?"

"I shall not, I hope, there, " answered she, with alacrity, "bebackward; but at least for this morning I must beg to make you myAlmoner. "

She then took out her purse. 

Mr Briggs and Mr Hobson, whose quarrel had been suspended by theappearance of a third person, and who had stood during this shortdialogue in silent amazement, having first lost their anger in theirmutual consternation, now lost their consternation in their mutualdispleasure Mr. Hobson felt offended to hear business spoken ofslightly, and Mr Briggs felt enraged at the sight of Cecilia's readypurse. Neither of them, however, knew which way to interfere, the stemgravity of Albany, joined to a language too lofty for theircomprehension, intimidating them both. They took, however, the reliefof communing with one another, and Mr Hobson said in a whisper "This, you must know, is, I am told, a very particular old gentleman; quitewhat I call a genius. He comes often to my house, to see my lodger MissHenny Belfield, though I never happen to light upon him myself, exceptonce in the passage: but what I hear of him is this; he makes apractice, as one may say, of going about into people's houses, to donothing but find fault. "

"Shan't get into mine!" returned Briggs, "promise him that! don't halflike him; be bound he's an old sharper. "

Cecilia, mean time, enquired what he desired to have. 

"Half a guinea, " he answered. 

"Will that do?"

"For those who have nothing, " said he, "it is much. Hereafter, you mayassist them again. Go but and see their distresses, and you will wishto give them every thing. "

Mr Briggs now, when actually between her fingers he saw the halfguinea, could contain no longer; he twitched the sleeve of her gown, and pinching her arm, with a look of painful eagerness, said in awhisper "Don't give it! don't let him have it! chouse him, chouse him!nothing but an old bite!"

"Pardon me, Sir, " said Cecilia, in a low voice, "his character is verywell known to me. " And then, disengaging her arm from him, shepresented her little offering. 

At this sight, Mr Briggs was almost outrageous, and losing in hiswrath, all fear of the stranger, he burst forth with fury into thefollowing outcries, "Be ruined! see it plainly; be fleeced! be stript!be robbed! won't have a gown to your back! won't have a shoe to yourfoot! won't have a rag in the world! be a beggar in the street! come tothe parish! rot in a jail!--half a guinea at a time!--enough to breakthe Great Mogul!"

"Inhuman spirit of selfish parsimony!" exclaimed Albany, "repinest thouat this loan, given from thousands to those who have worse thannothing? who pay to-day in hunger for bread they borrowed yesterdayfrom pity? who to save themselves from the deadly pangs of famine, solicit but what the rich know not when they possess, and miss not whenthey give?"

"Anan!" cried Briggs, recovering his temper from the perplexity of hisunderstanding, at a discourse to which his ears were whollyunaccustomed, "what d'ye say?"

"If to thyself distress may cry in vain, " continued Albany, "if thy ownheart resists the suppliant's prayer, callous to entreaty, and hardenedin the world, suffer, at least, a creature yet untainted, who melts atsorrow, and who glows with charity, to pay from her vast wealth agenerous tax of thankfulness, that fate has not reversed her doom, andthose whom she relieves, relieve not her!"

"Anan!" was again all the wondering Mr Briggs could say. 

"Pray, ma'am, " said Mr Hobson, to Cecilia, "if it's no offence, was theGentleman ever a player?"

"I fancy not, indeed!"

"I ask pardon, then, ma'am; I mean no harm; but my notion was thegentleman might be speaking something by heart. "

"Is it but on the stage, humanity exists?" cried Albany, indignantly;"Oh thither hasten, then, ye monopolizers of plenty! ye selfish, unfeeling engrossers of wealth, which ye dissipate without enjoying, and of abundance, which ye waste while ye refuse to distribute!thither, thither haste, if there humanity exists!"

"As to engrossing, " said Mr Hobson, happy to hear at last a word withwhich he was familiar, "it's what I never approved myself. My maxim isthis; if a man makes a fair penny, without any underhand dealings, whyhe has as much a title to enjoy his pleasure as the Chief Justice, orthe Lord Chancellor: and it's odds but he's as happy as a greater man. Though what I hold to be best of all, is a clear conscience, with aneat income of 2 or 3000 a year. That's my notion; and I don't thinkit's a bad one. "

"Weak policy of short-sighted ignorance!" cried Albany, "to wish forwhat, if used, brings care, and if neglected, remorse! have you not nowbeyond what nature craves? why then still sigh for more?"

"Why?" cried Mr Briggs, who by dint of deep attention began now betterto comprehend him, "why to buy in, to be sure! ever hear of stocks, eh?know any thing of money?"

"Still to make more and more, " cried Albany, "and wherefore? to spendin vice and idleness, or hoard in chearless misery! not to give succourto the wretched, not to support the falling; all is for self, howeverlittle wanted, all goes to added stores, or added luxury; no fellow-creature served, nor even one beggar relieved!"

"Glad of it!" cried Briggs, "glad of it; would not have 'em relieved;don't like 'em; hate a beggar; ought to be all whipt; live uponspunging. "

"Why as to a beggar, I must needs say, " cried Mr Hobson, "I am by nomeans an approver of that mode of proceeding; being I take 'em all forcheats: for what I say is this, what a man earns, he earns, and it's noman's business to enquire what he spends, for a free-born Englishman ishis own master by the nature of the law, and as to his being a subject, why a duke is no more, nor a judge, nor the Lord High Chancellor, andthe like of those; which makes it tantamount to nothing, being he isanswerable to nobody by the right of Magna Charta: except in cases oftreason, felony, and that. But as to a beggar, it's quite anotherthing; he comes and asks me for money; but what has he to shew for it?what does he bring me in exchange? why a long story that he i'n't wortha penny! what's that to me? nothing at all. Let every man have his own;that's my way of arguing. "

"Ungentle mortals!" cried Albany, "in wealth exulting; even ininhumanity! think you these wretched outcasts have less sensibilitythan yourselves? think you, in cold and hunger, they lose thosefeelings which even in voluptuous prosperity from time to time disturbyou? you say they are all cheats? 'tis but the niggard cant of avarice, to lure away remorse from obduracy. Think you the naked wanderer begsfrom choice? give him your wealth and try. "

"Give him a whip!" cried Briggs, "sha'n't have a souse! send him toBridewell! nothing but a pauper; hate 'em; hate 'em all! full oftricks; break their own legs, put out their arms, cut off theirfingers, snap their own ancles, --all for what? to get at the chink! tochouse us of cash! ought to be well flogged; have 'em all sent to theThames; worse than the Convicts. "

"Poor subterfuge of callous cruelty! you cheat yourselves, to shun thefraud of others! and yet, how better do you use the wealth so guarded?what nobler purpose can it answer to you, than even a chance to snatchsome wretch from sinking? think less how _much_ ye save, and more for_what_; and then consider how thy full coffers may hereafter makereparation, for the empty catalogue of thy virtues. "

"Anan!" said Mr Briggs, again lost in perplexity and wonder. 

"Oh yet, " continued Albany, turning towards Cecilia, "preach not herethe hardness which ye practice; rather amend yourselves than corrupther; and give with liberality what ye ought to receive with gratitude!"

"This is not my doctrine, " cried Hobson; "I am not a near man, neither, but as to giving at that rate, it's quite out of character. I have asgood a right to my own savings, as to my own gettings; and what I sayis this, who'll give to _me_? let me see that, and it's quite anotherthing: and begin who will, I'll be bound to go on with him, pound forpound, or pence for pence. But as to giving to them beggars, it's whatI don't approve; I pay the poor's rate, and that's what I call charityenough for any man. But for the matter of living well, and spendingone's money handsomely, and having one's comforts about one, why it's athing of another nature, and I can say this for myself, and that is, Inever grudged myself any thing in my life. I always made myselfagreeable, and lived on the best. That's my way. "

"Bad way too, " cried Briggs, "never get on with it, never see beyondyour nose; won't be worth a plum while your head wags!" then, takingCecilia apart, "hark'ee, my duck, " he added, pointing to Albany, "whois that Mr Bounce, eh? what is he?"

"I have known him but a short time, Sir; but I think of him veryhighly. "

"Is he a _good_ man? that's the point, is he a _good_ man?"

"Indeed he appears to me uncommonly benevolent and charitable. "

"But that i'n't the thing; is he _warm_? that's the point, is he_warm_?"

"If you mean _passionate_, " said Cecilia, "I believe the energy of hismanner is merely to enforce what he says. "

"Don't take me, don't take me, " cried he, impatiently; "can come downwith the ready, that's the matter; can chink the little gold boys? eh?"

"Why I rather fear not by his appearance; but I know nothing of hisaffairs. "

"What does come for? eh? come a courting?"

"Mercy on me, no!"

"What for then? only a spunging?"

"No, indeed. He seems to have no wish but to assist and plead forothers. "

"All fudge! think he i'n't touched? ay, ay; nothing but a trick! onlyto get at the chink: see he's as poor as a rat, talks of nothing butgiving money; a bad sign! if he'd got any, would not do it. Wanted tomake us come down; warrant thought to bam us all! out there! a'n't sosoon gulled. "

A knock at the street door gave now a new interruption, and Mr Delvileat length appeared. 

Cecilia, whom his sight could not fail to disconcert, felt doublydistressed by the unnecessary presence of Albany and Hobson; sheregretted the absence of Mr Monckton, who could easily have taken themaway; for though without scruple she could herself have acquainted MrHobson she had business, she dreaded offending Albany, whose esteem shewas ambitious of obtaining. 

Mr Delvile entered the room with an air stately and erect; he took offhis hat, but deigned not to make the smallest inclination of his head, nor offered any excuse to Mr Briggs for being past the hour of hisappointment: but having advanced a few paces, without looking either tothe right or left, said, "as I have never acted, my coming may not, perhaps, be essential; but as my name is in the Dean's Will, and I haveonce or twice met the other executors mentioned in it, I think it aduty I owe to my own heirs to prevent any possible future enquiry ortrouble to them. "

This speech was directly addressed to no one, though meant to beattended to by every one, and seemed proudly uttered as a mere apologyto himself for not having declined the meeting. 

Cecilia, though she recovered from her confusion by the help of heraversion to this self-sufficiency, made not any answer. Albany retiredto a corner of the room; Mr Hobson began to believe it was time for himto depart; and Mr Briggs thinking only of the quarrel in which he hadseparated with Mr Delvile in the summer, stood swelling with venom, which he longed for an opportunity to spit out. 

Mr Delvile, who regarded this silence as the effect of his awe-inspiring presence, became rather more complacent; but casting his eyesround the room, and perceiving the two strangers, he was visiblysurprised, and looking at Cecilia for some explanation, seemed to standsuspended from the purpose of his visit till he heard one. 

Cecilia, earnest to have the business concluded, turned to Mr Briggs, and said, "Sir, here is pen and ink: are you to write, or am I? or whatis to be done?"

"No, no, " said he, with a sneer, "give it t'other; all in our turn;don't come before his Grace the Right Honourable Mr Vampus. "

"Before whom, Sir?" said Mr Delvile, reddening. 

"Before my Lord Don Pedigree, " answered Briggs, with a spiteful grin, "know him? eh? ever hear of such a person?"

Mr Delvile coloured still deeper, but turning contemptuously from him, disdained making any reply. 

Mr Briggs, who now regarded him as a defeated man, said exultingly toMr Hobson, "what do stand here for?--hay?--fall o' your marrowbones;don't see 'Squire High and Mighty?"

"As to falling on my marrowbones, " answered Mr Hobson, "it's what Ishall do to no man, except he was the King himself, or the like ofthat, and going to make me Chancellor of the Exchequer, or Commissionerof Excise. Not that I mean the gentleman any offence; but a man's aman, and for one man to worship another is quite out of law. "

"Must, must!" cried Briggs, "tell all his old grand-dads else: keeps'em in a roll; locks 'em in a closet; says his prayers to 'em; can'tlive without 'em: likes 'em better than cash!--wish had 'em here! pop'em all in the sink!"

"If your intention, Sir, " cried Mr Delvile, fiercely, "is only toinsult me, I am prepared for what measures I shall take. I declinedseeing you in my own house, that I might not be under the samerestraint as when it was my unfortunate lot to meet you last. "

"Who cares?" cried Briggs, with an air of defiance, "what can do, eh?poke me into a family vault? bind me o' top of an old monument? tie meto a stinking carcase? make a corpse of me, and call it one of yourfamous cousins?--"

"For heaven's sake, Mr Briggs, " interrupted Cecilia, who saw that MrDelvile, trembling with passion, scarce refrained lifting up his stick, "be appeased, and let us finish our business!"

Albany now, hearing in Cecilia's voice the alarm with which she wasseized, came forward and exclaimed, "Whence this unmeaning dissension?to what purpose this irritating abuse? Oh vain and foolish! live ye sohappily, last ye so long, that time and peace may thus be trifledwith?"

"There, there!" cried Briggs, holding up his finger at Mr Delvile, "have it now! got old Mr Bounce upon you! give you enough of it;promise you that!"

"Restrain, " continued Albany, "this idle wrath; and if ye have ardentpassions, employ them to nobler uses; let them stimulate acts ofvirtue, let them animate deeds of beneficence! Oh waste not spiritsthat may urge you to good, lead you to honour, warm you to charity, inpoor and angry words, in unfriendly, unmanly debate!"

Mr Delvile, who from the approach of Albany, had given him his wholeattention, was struck with astonishment at this address, and almostpetrified with wonder at his language and exhortations. 

"Why I must own, " said Mr Hobson, "as to this matter I am much of thesame mind myself; for quarreling's a thing I don't uphold; being itadvances one no way; for what I say is this, if a man gets the better, he's only where he was before, and if he gets worsted, why it's oddsbut the laugh's against him: so, if I may make bold to give my verdict, I would have one of these gentlemen take the other by the hand, and soput an end to bad words. That's my maxim, and that's what I call beingagreeable. "

Mr Delvile, at the words _one of these gentlemen take the other by thehand_, looked scornfully upon Mr Hobson, with a frown that expressedhis highest indignation, at being thus familiarly coupled with MrBriggs. And then, turning from him to Cecilia, haughtily said, "Arethese two persons, " pointing towards Albany and Hobson, "waiting hereto be witnesses to any transaction?"

"No, Sir, no, " cried Hobson, "I don't mean to intrude, I am goingdirectly. So you can give me no insight, ma'am, " addressing Cecilia, "as to where I might light upon Mr Belfield?"

"Me? no!" cried she, much provoked by observing that Mr Delvilesuddenly looked at her. 

"Well, ma'am, well, I mean no harm: only I hold it that the right wayto hear of a young gentleman, is to ask for him of a young lady: that'smy maxim. Come, Sir, " to Mr Briggs, "you and I had like to have fallenout, but what I say is this; let no man bear malice; that's my way: soI hope we part without ill blood?"

"Ay, ay;" said Mr Briggs, giving him a nod. 

"Well, then, " added Hobson, "I hope the good-will may go round, andthat not only you and I, but these two good old gentlemen will alsolend a hand. "

Mr Delvile now was at a loss which way to turn for very rage; but afterlooking at every one with a face flaming with ire, he said to Cecilia, "If you have collected together these persons for the purpose ofaffronting me, I must beg you to remember I am not one to be affrontedwith impunity!"

Cecilia, half frightened, was beginning an answer that disclaimed anysuch intention, when Albany, with the most indignant energy, calledout, "Oh pride of heart, with littleness of soul! check this vilearrogance, too vain for man, and spare to others some part of thatlenity thou nourishest for thyself, or justly bestow on thyself thatcontempt thou nourishest for others!"

And with these words he sternly left the house. 

The thunderstruck Mr Delvile began now to fancy that all the demons oftorment were designedly let loose upon him, and his surprise andresentment operated so powerfully that it was only in broken sentenceshe could express either. "Very extraordinary!--a new method ofconduct!--liberties to which I am not much used!--impertinences I shallnot hastily forget, --treatment that would scarce be pardonable to aperson wholly unknown!--"

"Why indeed, Sir, " said Hobson, "I can't but say it was rather a cutup; but the old gentleman is what one may call a genius, which makes ita little excusable; for he does things all his own way, and I am toldit's the same thing who he speaks to, so he can but find fault, andthat. "

"Sir, " interrupted the still more highly offended Mr Delvile, "what_you_ may be told is extremely immaterial to _me_; and I must take theliberty to hint to you, a conversation of this easy kind is not what Iam much in practice in hearing. "

"Sir, I ask pardon, " said Hobson, "I meant nothing but what wasagreeable; however, I have done, and I wish you good day. Your humbleservant, ma'am, and I hope, Sir, " to Mr Briggs, "you won't begin badwords again?"

"No, no, " said Briggs, "ready to make up; all at end; only don't muchlike _Spain_, that's all!" winking significantly, "nor a'n't over fondof a _skeleton_!"

Mr Hobson now retired; and Mr Delvile and Mr Briggs, being both weariedand both in haste to have done, settled in about five minutes all forwhich they met, after passing more than an hour in agreeing what thatwas. 

Mr Briggs then, saying he had an engagement upon business, declinedsettling his own accounts till another time, but promised to seeCecilia again soon, and added, "be sure take care of that old MrBounce! cracked in the noddle; see that with half an eye! better nottrust him! break out some day: do you a mischief!"

He then went away: but while the parlour-door was still open, to the nolittle surprise of Cecilia, the servant announced Mr Belfield. Hehardly entered the room, and his countenance spoke haste and eagerness. "I have this moment, madam, " he said, "been informed a complaint hasbeen lodged against me here, and I could not rest till I had the honourof assuring you, that though I have been rather dilatory, I have notneglected my appointment, nor has the condescension of yourinterference been thrown away. "

He then bowed, shut the door, and ran off Cecilia, though happy tounderstand by this speech that he was actually restored to his family, was sorry at these repeated intrusions in the presence of Mr Delvile, who was now the only one that remained. 

She expected every instant that he would ring for his chair, which hekept in waiting; but, after a pause of some continuance, to her equalsurprise and disturbance, he made the following speech. "As it isprobable I am now for the last time alone with you, ma'am, and as it iscertain we shall meet no more upon business, I cannot, in justice to myown character, and to the respect I retain for the memory of the Dean, your uncle, take a final leave of the office with which he was pleasedto invest me, without first fulfilling my own ideas of the duty itrequires from me, by giving you some counsel relating to your futureestablishment. "

This was not a preface much to enliven Cecilia; it prepared her forsuch speeches as she was least willing to hear, and gave to her themixt and painful sensation of spirits depressed, with ride alarmed. 

"My numerous engagements, " he continued, "and the appropriation of mytime, already settled, to their various claims, must make me brief inwhat I have to represent, and somewhat, perhaps, abrupt in coming tothe purpose. But that you will excuse. "

Cecilia disdained to humour this arrogance by any compliments orconcessions: she was silent, therefore; and when they were both seated, he went on. 

"You are now at a time of life when it is natural for young women towish for some connection: and the largeness of your fortune will removefrom you such difficulties as prove bars to the pretensions, in thisexpensive age, of those who possess not such advantages. It would havebeen some pleasure to me, while I yet considered you as my Ward, tohave seen you properly disposed of: but as that time is past, I canonly give you some general advice, which you may follow or neglect asyou think fit. By giving it, I shall satisfy myself; for the rest, I amnot responsible. "

He paused; but Cecilia felt less and less inclination to make use ofthe opportunity by speaking in her turn. 

"Yet though, as I just now hinted, young women of large fortunes mayhave little trouble in finding themselves establishments, they oughtnot, therefore, to trifle when proper ones are in their power, nor tosuppose themselves equal to any they may chance to desire. "

Cecilia coloured high at this pointed reprehension; but feeling herdisgust every moment encrease, determined to sustain herself withdignity, and at least not suffer him to perceive the triumph of hisostentation and rudeness. 

"The proposals, " he continued, "of the Earl of Ernolf had always myapprobation; it was certainly an ill-judged thing to neglect such anopportunity of being honourably settled. The clause of the name was, to_him_, immaterial; since his own name half a century ago was unheardof, and since he is himself only known by his title. He is still, however, I have authority to acquaint you, perfectly well disposed torenew his application to you. "

"I am sorry, Sir, " said Cecilia coldly, "to hear it. "

"You have, perhaps, some other better offer in view?"

"No, Sir, " cried she, with spirit, "nor even in desire. "

"Am I, then, to infer that some inferior offer has more chance of yourapprobation?"

"There is no reason, Sir, to infer any thing; I am content with myactual situation, and have, at present, neither prospect nor intentionof changing it. "

"I perceive, but without surprise, your unwillingness to discuss thesubject; nor do I mean to press it: I shall merely offer to yourconsideration one caution, and then relieve you from my presence. Youngwomen of ample fortunes, who are early independent, are sometimes aptto presume they may do every thing with impunity; but they aremistaken; they are as liable to censure as those who are whollyunprovided for. "

"I hope, Sir, " said Cecilia, staring, "this at least is a cautionrather drawn from my situation than my behaviour?"

"I mean not, ma'am, narrowly to go into, or investigate the subject;what I have said you may make your own use of; I have only to observefurther, that when young women, at your time of life, are at allnegligent of so nice a thing as reputation, they commonly live torepent it. "

He then arose to go, but Cecilia, not more offended than amazed, said, "I must beg, Sir, you will explain yourself!"

"Certainly this matter, " he answered, "must be immaterial to _me_: yet, as I have once been your guardian by the nomination of the Dean youruncle, I cannot forbear making an effort towards preventing anyindiscretion: and frequent visits to a young man--"

"Good God! Sir, " interrupted Cecilia, "what is it you mean?"

"It can certainly, as I said before, be nothing to _me_, though Ishould be glad to see you in better hands: but I cannot suppose youhave been led to take such steps without some serious plan; and I wouldadvise you, without loss of time, to think better of what you areabout. "

"Should I think, Sir, to eternity, " cried Cecilia, "I could neverconjecture what you mean!"

"You may not chuse, " said he, proudly, "to understand me; but I havedone. If it had been in my power to have interfered in your servicewith my Lord Derford, notwithstanding my reluctance to being involvedin any fresh employment, I should have made a point of not refusing it:but this young man is nobody, --a very imprudent connection--"

"What young man, Sir?"

"Nay, _I_ know nothing of him! it is by no means likely I should: butas I had already been informed of your attention to him, thecorroborating incidents of my servant's following you to his house, hisfriend's seeking him at yours, and his own waiting upon you thismorning; were not well calculated to make me withdraw my credence toit. "

"Is it, then, Mr Belfield, Sir, concerning whom you draw theseinferences, from circumstances the most accidental and unmeaning?"

"It is by no means my practice, " cried he, haughtily, and with evidentmarks of high displeasure at this speech, "to believe any thinglightly, or without even unquestionable authority; what once, therefore, I have credited, I do not often find erroneous. Mistake not, however, what I have said into supposing I have any objection to yourmarrying; on the contrary, it had been for the honour of my family hadyou been married a year ago I should not then have suffered thedegradation of seeing a son of the first expectations in the kingdomupon the point of renouncing his birth, nor a woman of the firstdistinction ruined in her health, and broken for ever in herconstitution. "

The emotions of Cecilia at this speech were too powerful forconcealment; her colour varied, now reddening with indignation, nowturning pale with apprehension; she arose, she trembled and sat down, she arose again, but not knowing what to say or what to do, again satdown. 

Mr Delvile then, making a stiff bow, wished her good morning. 

"Go not so, Sir!" cried she, in faltering accents; "let me at leastconvince you of the mistake with regard to Mr Belfield--"

"My mistakes, ma'am, " said he, with a contemptuous smile, "are perhapsnot easily convicted: and I may possibly labour under others that wouldgive you no less trouble: it may therefore be better to avoid anyfurther disquisition. "

"No, not better, " answered she, again recovering her courage from thisfresh provocation; "I fear no disquisition; on the contrary, it is myinterest to solicit one. "

"This intrepidity in a young woman, " said he, ironically, "is certainlyvery commendable; and doubtless, as you are your own mistress, yourhaving run out great part of your fortune, is nothing beyond what youhave a right to do. "

"Me!" cried Cecilia, astonished, "run out great part of my fortune!"

"Perhaps that is another _mistake_! I have not often been sounfortunate; and you are not, then, in debt?"

"In debt, Sir?"

"Nay, I have no intention to inquire into your affairs. Good morning toyou, ma'am. "

"I beg, I entreat, Sir, that you will stop!--make me, at least, understand what you mean, whether you deign to hear my justification ornot. "

"O, I am mistaken, it seems! misinformed, deceived; and you haveneither spent more than you have received, nor taken up money of Jews?your minority has been clear of debts? and your fortune, now you are ofage, will be free from incumbrances?"

Cecilia, who now began to understand him, eagerly answered, "do youmean, Sir, the money which I took up last spring?"

"O no; by no means, I conceive the whole to be a _mistake_!"

And he went to the door. 

"Hear me but a moment, Sir!" cried she hastily, following him; "sinceyou know of that transaction, do not refuse to listen to its occasion;I took up the money for Mr Harrel; it was all, and solely for him. "

"For Mr Harrel, was it?" said he, with an air of superciliousincredulity; "that was rather an unlucky step. Your servant, ma'am. "

And he opened the door. 

"You will not hear me, then? you will not credit me?" cried she in thecruellest agitation. 

"Some other time, ma'am; at present my avocations are too numerous topermit me. "

And again, stiffly bowing, he called to his servants, who were waitingin the hall, and put himself into his chair. 

CHAPTER v. 

A SUSPICION. 

Cecilia was now left in a state of perturbation that was hardly to beendured. The contempt with which she had been treated during the wholevisit was nothing short of insult, but the accusations with which itwas concluded did not more irritate than astonish her. 

That some strange prejudice had been taken against her, even more thanbelonged to her connection with young Delvile, the message brought herby Dr Lyster had given her reason to suppose: what that prejudice wasshe now knew, though how excited she was still ignorant; but she foundMr Delvile had been informed she had taken up money of a Jew, withouthaving heard it was for Mr Harrel, and that he had been acquainted withher visits in Portland-street, without seeming to know Mr Belfield hada sister. Two charges such as these, so serious in their nature, and sodestructive of her character, filled her with horror and consternation, and even somewhat served to palliate his illiberal and injuriousbehaviour. 

But how reports thus false and thus disgraceful should be raised, andby what dark work of slander and malignity they had been spread, remained a doubt inexplicable. They could not, she was certain, be themere rumour of chance, since in both the assertions there was somefoundation of truth, however cruelly perverted, or basely over-charged. 

This led her to consider how few people there were not only who hadinterest, but who had power to propagate such calumnies; even heracquaintance with the Belfields she remembered not ever mentioning, forshe knew none of their friends, and none of her own knew them. How, then, should it be circulated, that she "visited often at the house?"however be invented that it was from her "attention to the young man?"Henrietta, she was sure, was too good and too innocent to be guilty ofsuch perfidy; and the young man himself had always shewn a modesty andpropriety that manifested his total freedom from the vanity of such asuspicion, and an elevation of sentiment that would have taught him toscorn the boast, even if he believed the partiality. 

The mother, however, had neither been so modest nor so rational; shehad openly avowed her opinion that Cecilia was in love with her son;and as that son, by never offering himself, had never been refused, heropinion had received no check of sufficient force, for a mind so grossand literal, to change it. 

This part, therefore, of the charge she gave to Mrs Belfield, whoseofficious and loquacious forwardness she concluded had induced her tonarrate her suspicions, till, step by step, they had reached MrDelvile. 

But though able, by the probability of this conjecture, to account forthe report concerning Belfield, the whole affair of the debt remained adifficulty not to be solved. Mr Harrel, his wife, Mr Arnott, the Jewand Mr Monckton, were the only persons to whom the transaction wasknown; and though from five, a secret, in the course of so many months, might easily be supposed likely to transpire, those five were soparticularly bound to silence, not only for her interest but their own, that it was not unreasonable to believe it as safe among them all, asif solely consigned to one. For herself, she had revealed it to nocreature but Mr Monckton; not even to Delvile; though, upon herconsenting to marry him, he had an undoubted right to be acquaintedwith the true state of her affairs; but such had been the hurry, distress, confusion and irresolution of her mind at that period, thatthis whole circumstance had been driven from it entirely, and she had, since, frequently blamed herself for such want of recollection. MrHarrel, for a thousand reasons, she was certain had never named it; andhad the communication come from his widow or from Mr Arnott, themotives would have been related as well as the debt, and she had beenspared the reproach of contracting it for purposes of her ownextravagance. The Jew, indeed, was, to her, under no obligation ofsecrecy, but he had an obligation far more binding, --he was tied tohimself. 

A suspicion now arose in her mind which made it thrill with horror;"good God! she exclaimed, can Mr Monckton---"

She stopt, even to herself;--she checked the idea;--she drove ithastily from her;--she was certain it was false and cruel, --she hatedherself for having started it. 

"No, " cried she, "he is my friend, the confirmed friend of many years, my well-wisher from childhood, my zealous counsellor and assistantalmost from my birth to this hour:--such perfidy from him would noteven be human!"

Yet still her perplexity was undiminished; the affair was undoubtedlyknown, and it only could be known by the treachery of some oneentrusted with it: and however earnestly her generosity combated herrising suspicions, she could not wholly quell them; and Mr Monckton'sstrange aversion to the Delviles, his earnestness to break off herconnexion with them, occurred to her remembrance, and haunted herperforce with surmises to his disadvantage. 

That gentleman, when he came home, found her in this comfortless andfluctuating state, endeavouring to form conjectures upon what hadhappened, yet unable to succeed, but by suggestions which one momentexcited her abhorrence of him, and the next of herself. 

He enquired, with his usual appearance of easy friendliness, into whathad passed with her two guardians, and how she had settled her affairs. She answered without hesitation all his questions, but her manner wascold and reserved, though her communication was frank. 

This was not unheeded by Mr Monckton, who, after a short time, beggedto know if any thing had disturbed her. 

Cecilia, ashamed of her doubts, though unable to get rid of them, thenendeavoured to brighten up, and changed the subject to the difficultiesshe had had to encounter from the obstinacy of Mr Briggs. 

Mr Monckton for a while humoured this evasion; but when, by her ownexertion, her solemnity began to wear off, he repeated hisinterrogatory, and would not be satisfied without an answer. 

Cecilia, earnest that surmises so injurious should be removed, thenhonestly, but without comments, related the scene which had just pastbetween Mr Delvile and herself. 

No comments were, however, wanting to explain to Mr Monckton the changeof her behaviour. "I see, " he cried hastily, "what you cannot butsuspect; and I will go myself to Mr Delvile, and insist upon hisclearing me. "

Cecilia, shocked to have thus betrayed what was passing within her, assured him his vindication required not such a step, and begged hewould counsel her how to discover this treachery, without drawing fromher concern at it a conclusion so offensive to himself. 

He was evidently, however, and greatly disturbed; he declared his ownwonder equal to hers how the affair had been betrayed, expressed thewarmest indignation at the malevolent insinuations against her conduct, and lamented with mingled acrimony and grief, that there should existeven the possibility of casting the odium of such villainy uponhimself. 

Cecilia, distressed, perplexed, and ashamed at once, again endeavouredto appease him, and though a lurking doubt obstinately clung to herunderstanding, the purity of her own principles, and the softness ofher heart, pleaded strongly for his innocence, and urged her to detesther suspicion, though to conquer it they were unequal. 

"It is true, " said he, with an air ingenuous though mortified, "Idislike the Delviles, and have always disliked them; they appear to mea jealous, vindictive, and insolent race, and I should have thought Ibetrayed the faithful regard I professed for you, had I concealed myopinion when I saw you in danger of forming an alliance with them; Ispoke to you, therefore, with honest zeal, thoughtless of any enmity Imight draw upon myself; but though it was an interference from which Ihoped, by preventing the connection, to contribute to your happiness, it was not with a design to stop it at the expence of your character, --a design black, horrible, and diabolic! a design which must be formedby a Daemon, but which even a Daemon could never, I think, execute!"

The candour of this speech, in which his aversion to the Delviles wasopenly acknowledged, and rationally justified, somewhat quieted thesuspicions of Cecilia, which far more anxiously sought to be confutedthan confirmed: she began, therefore, to conclude that some accident, inexplicable as unfortunate, had occasioned the partial discovery to MrDelvile, by which her own goodness proved the source of her defamation:and though something still hung upon her mind that destroyed that firmconfidence she had hitherto felt in the friendship of Mr Monckton, sheheld it utterly unjust to condemn him without proof, which she was notmore unable to procure, than to satisfy herself with any reason why soperfidiously he should calumniate her. 

Comfortless, however, and tormented with conjectures equally vague andafflicting, she could only clear him to be lost in perplexity, shecould only accuse him to be penetrated with horror. She endeavoured tosuspend her judgment till time should develop the mystery, and only forthe present sought to finish her business and leave London. 

She renewed, therefore, again, the subject of Mr Briggs, and told himhow vain had been her effort to settle with him. Mr Monckton instantlyoffered his services in assisting her, and the next morning they wenttogether to his house, where, after an obstinate battle, they gained acomplete victory: Mr Briggs gave up all his accounts, and, in a fewdays, by the active interference of Mr Monckton, her affairs werewholly taken out of his hands. He stormed, and prophesied all ill toCecilia, but it was not to any purpose; he was so disagreeable to her, by his manners, and so unintelligible to her in matters of business, that she was happy to have done with him; even though, upon inspectinghis accounts, they were all found clear and exact, and his desire toretain his power over her fortune, proved to have no other motive thana love of money so potent, that to manage it, even for another, gavehim a satisfaction he knew not how to relinquish. 

Mr Monckton, who, though a man of pleasure, understood businessperfectly well, now instructed and directed her in making a generalarrangement of her affairs. The estate which devolved to her from heruncle, and which was all in landed property, she continued to commit tothe management of the steward who was employed in his life-time; andher own fortune from her father, which was all in the stocks, she nowdiminished to nothing by selling out to pay Mr Monckton the principaland interest which she owed him, and by settling with her Bookseller. 

While these matters were transacting, which, notwithstanding hereagerness to leave town, could not be brought into such a train as topermit her absence in less than a week, she passed her time chieflyalone. Her wishes all inclined her to bestow it upon Henrietta, but thelate attack of Mr Delvile had frightened her from keeping up thatconnection, since however carefully she might confine it to thedaughter, Mrs Belfield, she was certain, would impute it all to theson. 

That attack rested upon her mind, in defiance of all her endeavours tobanish it; the contempt with which it was made seemed intentionallyoffensive, as if he had been happy to derive from her supposed illconduct, a right to triumph over as well as reject her. She concluded, also, that Delvile would be informed of these calumnies, yet she judgedhis generosity by her own, and was therefore convinced he would notcredit them: but what chiefly at this time encreased her sadness anduneasiness, was the mention of Mrs Delvile's broken constitution andruined health. She had always preserved for that lady the mostaffectionate respect, and could not consider herself as the cause ofher sufferings, without feeling the utmost concern, however consciousshe had not wilfully occasioned them. 

Nor was this scene the only one by which her efforts to forget thisfamily were defeated; her watchful monitor, Albany, failed not again toclaim her promise; and though Mr Monckton earnestly exhorted her not totrust herself out with him, she preferred a little risk to the keennessof his reproaches, and the weather being good on the morning that hecalled, she consented to accompany him in his rambles: only chargingher footman to follow where-ever they went, and not to fail enquiringfor her if she stayed long out of his sight. These precautions wererather taken to satisfy Mr Monckton than herself, who, having nowprocured intelligence of the former disorder of his intellects, wasfearful of some extravagance, and apprehensive for her safety. 

He took her to a miserable house in a court leading into Piccadilly, where, up three pair of stairs, was a wretched woman ill in bed, whilea large family of children were playing in the room. 

"See here, " cried he, "what human nature can endure! look at that poorwretch, distracted with torture, yet lying in all this noise! unable tostir in her bed, yet without any assistant! suffering the pangs ofacute disease, yet wanting the necessaries of life!"

Cecilia went up to the bed-side, and enquired more particularly intothe situation of the invalid; but finding she could hardly speak frompain, she sent for the woman of the house, who kept a Green Grocer'sshop on the ground floor, and desired her to hire a nurse for her sicklodger, to call all the children down stairs, and to send for anapothecary, whose bill she promised to pay. She then gave her somemoney to get what necessaries might be wanted, and said she would comeagain in two days to see how they went on. 

Albany, who listened to these directions with silent, yet eagerattention, now clasped both his hands with a look of rapture, andexclaimed "Virtue yet lives, --and I have found her?"

Cecilia, proud of such praise, and ambitious to deserve it, chearfullysaid, "where, Sir, shall we go now?"

"Home;" answered he with an aspect the most benign; "I will not wearout thy pity by rendering woe familiar to it. "

Cecilia, though at this moment more disposed for acts of charity thanfor business or for pleasure, remembered that her fortune however largewas not unlimited, and would not press any further bounty for objectsshe knew not, certain that occasions and claimants, far beyond herability of answering, would but too frequently arise among those withwhom she was more connected, she therefore yielded herself to hisdirection, and returned to Soho-Square. 

Again, however, he failed not to call the time she had appointed forre-visiting the invalid, to whom, with much gladness, he conducted her. 

The poor woman, whose disease was a rheumatic fever, was already muchbetter; she had been attended by an apothecary who had given her somealleviating medicine; she had a nurse at her bedside, and the roombeing cleared of the children, she had had the refreshment of somesleep. 

She was now able to raise her head, and make her acknowledgments to herbenefactress; but not a little was the surprise of Cecilia, when, uponlooking in her face, she said, "Ah, madam, I have seen you before!"

Cecilia, who had not the smallest recollection of her, in returndesired to know when, or where?

"When you were going to be married, madam, I was the Pew-Opener at----Church. "

Cecilia started with secret horror, and involuntarily retreated fromthe bed; while Albany with a look of astonishment exclaimed, "Married!--why, then, is it unknown?"

"Ask me not!" cried she, hastily; "it is all a mistake. "

"Poor thing!" cried he, "this, then, is the string thy nerves endurenot to have touched! sooner will I expire than a breath of mine shallmake it vibrate! Oh sacred be thy sorrow, for thou canst melt at thatof the indigent!"

Cecilia then made a few general enquiries, and heard that the poorwoman, who was a widow, had been obliged to give up her office, fromthe frequent attacks which she suffered of the rheumatism; that she hadreceived much assistance both from the Rector and the Curate of ----Church, but her continual illness, with the largeness of her family, kept her distressed in spite of all help. 

Cecilia promised to consider what she could do for her, and then givingher more money, returned to Lady Margaret's. 

Albany, who found that the unfortunate recollection of the Pew-Openerhad awakened in his young pupil a melancholy train of reflections, seemed now to compassionate the sadness which hitherto he had reproved, and walking silently by her side till she came to Soho-Square, said inaccents of kindness, "Peace light upon thy head, and dissipate thywoes!" and left her. 

"Ah when!" cried she to herself, "if thus they are to be revived for-ever!"

Mr Monckton, who observed that something had greatly affected her, nowexpostulated warmly against Albany and his wild schemes; "You triflewith your own happiness, " he cried, "by witnessing these scenes ofdistress, and you will trifle away your fortune upon projects you cannever fulfil: the very air in those miserable houses is unwholesome foryou to breathe; you will soon be affected with some of the diseases towhich you so uncautiously expose yourself, and while not half you givein charity will answer the purpose you wish, you will be plundered bycheats and sharpers till you have nothing left to bestow. You must bemore considerate for yourself, and not thus governed by Albany, whoseinsanity is but partially cured, and whose projects are so boundless, that the whole capital of the East India Company would not suffice tofulfil them. "

Cecilia, though she liked not the severity of this remonstrance, acknowledged there was some truth in it, and promised to be discreet, and take the reins into her own hands. 

There remained for her, however, no other satisfaction; and the pathwhich had thus been pointed out to her, grew more and more alluringevery step. Her old friends, the poor Hills, now occurred to hermemory, and she determined to see herself in what manner they went on. 

The scene which this enquiry presented to her, was by no meanscalculated to strengthen Mr Monckton's doctrine, for the prosperity inwhich she found this little family, amply rewarded the liberality shehad shewn to it, and proved an irresistible encouragement to similaractions. Mrs Hill wept for joy in recounting how well she succeeded, and Cecilia, delighted by the power of giving such pleasure, forgot allcautions and promises in the generosity which she displayed. She paidMrs Roberts the arrears that were due to her, she discharged all thatwas owing for the children who had been put to school, desired theymight still be sent to it solely at her expense, and gave the mother asum of money to be laid out in presents for them all. 

To perform her promise with the Pew Opener was however more difficult;her ill health, and the extreme youth of her children making herutterly helpless: but these were not considerations for Cecilia todesert her, but rather motives for regarding her as more peculiarly anobject of charity. She found she had once been a clear starcher, andwas a tolerable plain work-woman; she resolved, therefore, to send herinto the country, where she hoped to be able to get her some business, and knew that at least, she could help her, if unsuccessful, and seethat her children were brought up to useful employments. The, womanherself was enchanted at the plan, and firmly persuaded the country airwould restore her health. Cecilia told her only to wait till she waswell enough to travel, and promised, in the mean time, to look out somelittle habitation for her. She then gave her money to pay her bills, and for her journey, and writing a full direction where she would hearof her at Bury, took leave of her till that time. 

These magnificent donations and designs, being communicated to Albany, seemed a renovation to him of youth, spirit, and joy! while theireffect upon Mr Monckton resembled an annihilation of all three! to seemoney thus sported away, which he had long considered as his own, tobehold those sums which he had destined for his pleasures, thuslavishly bestowed upon beggars, excited a rage he could with difficultyconceal, and an uneasiness he could hardly endure; and he languished, he sickened for the time, when he might put a period to such romanticproceedings. 

Such were the only occupations which interrupted the solitude ofCecilia, except those which were given to her by actual business; andthe moment her affairs were in so much forwardness that they could bemanaged by letters, she prepared for returning into the country. Sheacquainted Lady Margaret and Mr Monckton with her design, and gaveorders to her servants to be ready to set off the next day. 

Mr Monckton made not any opposition, and refused himself thesatisfaction of accompanying her: and Lady Margaret, whose purpose wasnow answered, and who wished to be in the country herself, determinedto follow her. 

CHAPTER vi. 

A DISTURBANCE. 

This matter being settled at breakfast, Cecilia, having but one daymore to spend in London, knew not how to let it pass without takingleave of Henrietta, though she chose not again to expose herself to theforward insinuations of her mother; she sent her, therefore, a shortnote, begging to see her at Lady Margaret's, and acquainting her thatthe next day she was going out of town. 

Henrietta returned the following answer. 

_To Miss Beverley_. 

Madam, --My mother is gone to market, and I must not go out without herleave; I have run to the door at every knock this whole week in hopesyou were coming, and my heart has jumpt at every coach that has gonethrough the street. Dearest lady, why did you tell me you would come? Ishould not have thought of such a great honour if you had not put it inmy head. And now I have got the use of a room where I can often bealone for two or three hours together. And so I shall this morning, ifit was possible my dear Miss Beverley could come. But I don't mean tobe teasing, and I would not be impertinent or encroaching for theworld; but only the thing is I have a great deal to say to you, and ifyou was not so rich a lady, and so much above me, I am sure I shouldlove you better than any body in the whole world, almost; and now Idare say I shan't see you at all; for it rains very hard, and mymother, I know, will be sadly angry if I ask to go in a coach. O dear!I don't know what I can do! for it will half break my heart, if my dearMiss Beverley should go out of town, and I not see her!--I am, Madam, with the greatest respectfulness, your most humble servant, HENRIETTA BELFIELD. 

This artless remonstrance, joined to the intelligence that she couldsee her alone, made Cecilia instantly order a chair, and go herself toPortland-street: for she found by this letter there was much doubt ifshe could otherwise see her, and the earnestness of Henrietta made hernow not endure to disappoint her. "She has much, " cried she, "to say tome, and I will no longer refuse to hear her; she shall unbosom to meher gentle heart, for we have now nothing to fear from each other. Shepromises herself pleasure from the communication, and doubtless it mustbe some relief to her. Oh were there any friendly bosom, in which Imight myself confide!--happier Henrietta! less fearful of thy pride, less tenacious of thy dignity! thy sorrows at least seek theconsolation of sympathy, --mine, alas! fettered by prudence, must flyit!"

She was shewn into the parlour, which she had the pleasure to findempty; and, in an instant, the warm-hearted Henrietta was in her arms. "This is sweet of you indeed, " cried she, "for I did not know how toask it, though it rains so hard I could not have walked to you, and Idon't know what I should have done, if you had gone away and quiteforgot me. "

She then took her into the back parlour, which she said they had latelyhired, and, as it was made but little use of, she had it almostentirely to herself. 

There had passed a sad scene, she told her, at the meeting with herbrother, though now they were a little more comfortable; yet, hermother, she was sure, would never be at rest till he got into somehigher way of life; "And, indeed, I have some hopes, " she continued, "that we shall be able by and bye to do something better for him; forhe has got one friend in the world, yet; thank God, and such a noblefriend!--indeed I believe he can do whatever he pleases for him, --thatis I mean I believe if he was to ask any thing for him, there's nobodywould deny him. And this is what I wanted to talk to you about. "--

Cecilia, who doubted not but she meant Delvile, scarce knew how topress the subject, though she came with no other view: Henrietta, however, too eager to want solicitation, went on. 

"But the question is whether we shall be able to prevail upon mybrother to accept any thing, for he grows more and more unwilling to beobliged, and the reason is, that being poor, he is afraid, I believe, people should think he wants to beg of them: though if they knew him aswell as I do, they would not long think that, for I am sure he would agreat deal rather be starved to death. But indeed, to say the truth, Iam afraid he has been sadly to blame in this affair, and quarrelledwhen there was no need to be affronted; for I have seen a gentleman whoknows a great deal better than my brother what people should do, and hesays he took every thing wrong that was done, all the time he was atLord Vannelt's. "

"And how does this gentleman know it?"

"O because he went himself to enquire about it; for he knows LordVannelt very well, and it was by his means my brother came acquaintedwith him. And this gentleman would not have wished my brother to beused ill any more than I should myself, so I am sure I may believe whathe says. But my poor brother, not being a lord himself, thought everybody meant to be rude to him, and because he knew he was poor, hesuspected they all behaved disrespectfully to him. But this gentlemangave me his word that every body liked him and esteemed him, and if hewould not have been so suspicious, they would all have done any thingfor him in the world. "

"You know this gentleman very well, then?"

"O no, madam!" she answered hastily, "I don't know him at all! he onlycomes here to see my brother; it would be very impertinent for me tocall him an acquaintance of mine. "

"Was it before your brother, then, he held this conversation with you?"

"O no, my brother would have been affronted with him, too, if he had!but he called here to enquire for him at the time when he was lost tous, and my mother quite went down upon her knees to him to beg him togo to Lord Vannelt's, and make excuses for him, if he had not behavedproperly: but if my brother was to know this, he would hardly speak toher again! so when this gentleman came next, I begged him not tomention it, for my mother happened to be out, and so I saw him alone. "

"And did he stay with you long?"

"No, ma'am, a very short time indeed; but I asked him questions all thewhile, and kept him as long as I could, that I might hear all he had tosay about my brother. "

"Have you never seen him since?"

"No, ma'am, not once! I suppose he does not know my brother is comeback to us. Perhaps when he does, he will call. "

"Do you wish him to call?"

"Me?" cried she, blushing, "a little;--sometimes I do;--for mybrother's sake. "

"For your brother's sake! Ah my dear Henrietta! but tell me, --or_don't_ tell me if you had rather not, --did I not once see you kissinga letter? perhaps it was from this same noble friend?"

"It was not a letter, madam, " said she, looking down, "it was only thecover of one to my brother. "

"The cover of a letter only!--and that to your brother!--is it possibleyou could so much value it?"

"Ah madam! _You_, who are always used to the good and the wise, who seeno other sort of people but those in high life, _you_ can have nonotion how they strike those that they are new to!--but I who see themseldom, and who live with people so very unlike them--Oh you cannotguess how sweet to _me_ is every thing that belongs to them! whateverhas but once been touched by their hands, I should like to lock up, andkeep for ever! though if I was used to them, as you are, perhaps Imight think less of them. "

Alas! thought Cecilia, who by _them_ knew she only meant _him_, littleindeed would further intimacy protect you!

"We are all over-ready, " continued Henrietta, "to blame others, andthat is the way I have been doing all this time myself; but I don'tblame my poor brother now for living so with the great as I used to do, for now I have seen a little more of the world, I don't wonder anylonger at his behaviour: for I know how it is, and I see that those whohave had good educations, and kept great company, and mixed with theworld, --O it is another thing!--they seem quite a different species!--they are so gentle, so soft-mannered! nothing comes from them but whatis meant to oblige! they seem as if they only lived to give pleasure toother people, and as if they never thought at all of themselves!"

"Ah Henrietta!" said Cecilia, shaking her head, "you have caught theenthusiasm of your brother, though you so long condemned it! Oh have acare lest, like him also, you find it as pernicious as it is alluring!"

"There, is no danger for _me_, madam, " answered she, "for the people Iso much admire are quite out of my reach. I hardly ever even see them;and perhaps it may so happen I may see them no more!"

"The people?" said Cecilia, smiling, "are there, then, many you so muchdistinguish?"

"Oh no indeed!" cried she, eagerly, "there is only one! there _can_ be--I mean there are only a few--" she checked herself, and stopt. 

"Whoever you admire, " cried Cecilia, "your admiration cannot buthonour: yet indulge it not too far, lest it should wander from yourheart to your peace, and make you wretched for life. "

"Ah madam!--I see you know who is the particular person I was thinkingof! but indeed you are quite mistaken if you suppose any thing bad ofme!"

"Bad of you!" cried Cecilia, embracing her, "I scarce think so well ofany one!"

"But I mean, madam, if you think I forget he is so much above me. Butindeed I never do; for I only admire him for his goodness to mybrother, and never think of him at all, but just by way of comparinghim, sometimes, to the other people that I see, because he makes mehate them so, that I wish I was never to see them again. "

"His acquaintance, then, " said Cecilia, "has done you but an illoffice, and happy it would be for you could you forget you had evermade it. "

"O, I shall never do that! for the more I think of him, the more I amout of humour with every body else! O Miss Beverley! we have a sadacquaintance indeed! I'm sure I don't wonder my brother was so ashamedof them. They are all so rude, and so free, and put one so out ofcountenance, --O how different is this person you are thinking of! hewould not distress anybody, or make one ashamed for all the world!_You_ only are like him! always gentle, always obliging!--sometimes Ithink you must be his sister--once, too, I heard--but that wascontradicted. "

A deep sigh escaped Cecilia at this speech; she guessed too well whatshe might have heard, and she knew too well how it might becontradicted. 

"Surely, _you_ cannot be unhappy, Miss Beverley!" said Henrietta, witha look of mingled surprise and concern. 

"I have much, I own, " cried Cecilia, assuming more chearfulness, "to bethankful for, and I endeavour not to forget it. "

"O how often do I think, " cried Henrietta, "that you, madam, are thehappiest person in the world! with every thing at your own disposal, --with every body in love with you, with all the money that you can wishfor, and so much sweetness that nobody can envy you it! with power tokeep just what company you please, and every body proud to be one ofthe number!--Oh if I could chuse who I would be, I should sooner sayMiss Beverley than any princess in the world!"

Ah, thought Cecilia, if such is my situation, --how cruel that by onedreadful blow all its happiness should be thrown away!

"Were I a rich lady, like you, " continued Henrietta, "and quite in myown power, then, indeed, I might soon think of nothing but those peoplethat I admire! and that makes me often wonder that _you_, madam, whoare just such another as himself--but then, indeed, you may see so manyof the same sort, that just this one may not so much strike you: andfor that reason I hope with all my heart that he will never be marriedas long as he lives, for as he must take some lady in just such highlife as his own, I should always be afraid that she would never lovehim as she ought to do!"

He need not now be single, thought Cecilia, were that all he had causeto apprehend!

"I often think, " added Henrietta, "that the rich would be as muchhappier for marrying the poor, as the poor for marrying the rich, forthen they would take somebody that would try to deserve their kindness, and now they only take those that know they have a right to it. Oftenand often have I thought so about this very gentleman! and sometimeswhen I have been in his company, and seen his civility and hissweetness, I have fancied I was rich and grand myself, and it has quitegone out of my head that I was nothing but poor Henrietta Belfield!"

"Did he, then, " cried Cecilia a little alarmed, "ever seek toingratiate himself into your favour?"

"No, never! but when treated with so much softness, 'tis hard always toremember one's meanness! You, madam, have no notion of that task: nomore had I myself till lately, for I cared not who was high, nor whowas low: but now, indeed, I must own I have some times wished myselfricher! yet he assumes so little, that at other times, I have almostforgot all distance between us, and even thought--Oh foolish thought!--

"Tell it, sweet Henrietta, however!"

"I will tell you, madam, every thing! for my heart has been bursting toopen itself, and nobody have I dared trust. I have thought, then, Ihave sometimes thought, --my true affection, my faithful fondness, myglad obedience, --might make him, if he did but know them, happier in methan in a greater lady!"

"Indeed, " cried Cecilia, extremely affected by this plaintivetenderness, "I believe it--and were I him, I could not, I think, hesitate a moment in my choice!"

Henrietta now, hearing her mother coming in, made a sign to her to besilent; but Mrs Belfield had not been an instant in the passage, beforea thundering knocking at the street-door occasioned it to be instantlyre-opened. A servant then enquired if Mrs Belfield was at home, andbeing answered by herself in the affirmative, a chair was brought intothe house. 

But what was the astonishment of Cecilia, when, in another moment, sheheard from the next parlour the voice of Mr Delvile senior, saying, "Your servant, ma'am; Mrs Belfield, I presume?"

There was no occasion, now, to make a sign to her of silence, for herown amazement was sufficient to deprive her of speech. 

"Yes, Sir, " answered Mrs Belfield; "but I suppose, Sir, you are somegentleman to my son. "

"No, madam, " he returned, "my business is with yourself. "

Cecilia now recovering from her surprise, determined to hastenunnoticed out of the house, well knowing that to be seen in it would beregarded as a confirmation of all that he had asserted. She whispered, therefore, to Henrietta, that she must instantly run away, but, uponsoftly opening the door leading to the passage, she found Mr Delvile'schairmen, and a footman there in waiting. 

She closed it again, irresolute what to do: but after a littledeliberation, she concluded to out-stay him, as she was known to allhis servants, who would not fail to mention seeing her; and a retreatso private was worse than any other risk. A chair was also in waitingfor herself, but it was a hackney one, and she could not be known byit; and her footman she had fortunately dismissed, as he had businessto transact for her journey next day. 

Mean-while the thinness of the partition between the two parlours madeher hearing every word that was said unavoidable. 

"I am sure, Sir, I shall be very willing to oblige you, " Mrs Belfieldanswered; "but pray, Sir, what's your name?"

"My name, ma'am, " he replied, in a rather elevated voice, "I am seldomobliged to announce myself; nor is there any present necessity I shouldmake it known. It is sufficient I assure you, you are speaking to novery common person, and probably to one you will have little chance tomeet with again. "

"But how can I tell your business, Sir, if I don't so much as know yourname?"

"My business, madam, I mean to tell myself; your affair is only to hearit. I have some questions, indeed, to ask, which I must trouble you toanswer, but they will sufficiently explain themselves to prevent anydifficulty upon your part. There is no need, therefore, of anyintroductory ceremonial. "

"Well, Sir, " said Mrs Belfield, wholly insensible of this ambiguousgreatness, "if you mean to make your name a secret. "

"Few names, I believe, ma'am, " cried he, haughtily, "have less theadvantage of secrecy than mine! on the contrary, this is but one amonga very few houses in this town to which my person would not immediatelyannounce it. That, however, is immaterial; and you will be so good asto rest satisfied with my assurances, that the person with whom you arenow conversing, will prove no disgrace to your character. "

Mrs Belfield, overpowered, though hardly knowing, with what, only said_he was very welcome_, and begged him to sit down. 

"Excuse me, ma'am, " he answered, "My business is but of a moment, andmy avocations are too many to suffer my infringing that time. You sayyou have a son; I have heard of him, also, somewhere before; pray willyou give me leave to enquire--I don't mean to go deep into the matter, --but particular family occurrences make it essential for me to know, --whether there is not a young person of rather a capital fortune, towhom he is supposed to make proposals?"

"Lack-a-day, no, Sir!" answered Mrs Belfield, to the infinite relief ofCecilia, who instantly concluded this question referred to herself. 

"I beg your pardon, then; good morning to you, ma'am, " said Mr Delvile, in a tone that spoke his disappointment; but added "And there is nosuch young person, you say, who favours his pretensions?"

"Dear Sir, " cried she, "why there's nobody he'll so much as put thequestion to! there's a young lady at this very time, a great fortune, that has as much a mind to him, I tell him, as any man need desire tosee; but there's no making him think it! though he has been brought upat the university, and knows more about all the things, or as much, asany body in the king's dominions. "

"O, then, " cried Mr Delvile, in a voice of far more complacency, "it isnot on the side of the young woman that the difficulty seems to rest?"

"Lord, no, Sir! he might have had her again and again only for asking!She came after him ever so often; but being brought up, as I said, atthe university, he thought he knew better than me, and so my preachingwas all as good as lost upon him. "

The consternation of Cecilia at these speeches could by nothing beequalled but by the shame of Henrietta, who, though she knew not towhom her mother made them, felt all the disgrace and the shock of themherself. 

"I suppose, Sir, " continued Mrs Belfield, "you know my son?"

"No, ma'am, my acquaintance is--not very universal. "

"Then, Sir, you are no judge how well he might make his own terms. Andas to this young lady, she found him out, Sir, when not one of his ownnatural friends could tell where in the world he was gone! She was thefirst, Sir, to come and tell me news of him though I was his ownmother! Love, Sir, is prodigious for quickness! it can see, I sometimesthink, through bricks and mortar. Yet all this would not do, he was soobstinate not to take the hint!"

Cecilia now felt so extremely provoked, she was upon the point ofbursting in upon them to make her own vindication; but as her passions, though they tried her reason never conquered it, she restrained herselfby considering that to issue forth from a room in that house, would domore towards strengthening what was thus boldly asserted, than all herprotestations could have chance to destroy. 

"And as to young ladies themselves, " continued Mrs Belfield, "they knowno more how to make their minds known than a baby does: so I supposehe'll shilly shally till somebody else will cry snap, and take her. Itis but a little while ago that it was all the report she was to haveyoung Mr Delvile, one of her guardian's sons. "

"I am sorry report was so impertinent, " cried Mr Delvile, with muchdispleasure; "young Mr Delvile is not to be disposed of with so littleceremony; he knows better what is due to his family. "

Cecilia here blushed from indignation, and Henrietta sighed fromdespondency. 

"Lord, Sir, " answered Mrs Belfield, "what should his family do better?I never heard they were any so rich, and I dare say the old gentleman, being her guardian, took care to put his son enough in her way, howeverit came about that they did not make a match of it: for as to old MrDelvile, all the world says---"

"All the world takes a very great liberty, " angrily interrupted MrDelvile, "in saying any thing about him: and you will excuse myinforming you that a person of his rank and consideration, is notlightly to be mentioned upon every little occasion that occurs. "

"Lord, Sir, " cried Mrs Belfield, somewhat surprised at this unexpectedprohibition, "I don't care for my part if I never mention the oldgentleman's name again! I never heard any good of him in my life, forthey say he's as proud as Lucifer, and nobody knows what it's of, forthey say--"

"_They_ say?" cried he, firing with rage, "and who are _they_? be sogood as inform me that?"

"Lord, every body, Sir! it's his common character. "

"Then every body is extremely indecent, " speaking very loud, "to pay nomore respect to one of the first families in England. It is alicentiousness that ought by no means to be suffered with impunity. "

Here, the street-door being kept open by the servants in waiting, a newstep was heard in the passage, which Henrietta immediately knowing, turned, with uplifted hands to Cecilia, and whispered, "How unlucky!it's my brother! I thought he would not have returned till night!"

"Surely he will not come in here?" re-whispered Cecilia. 

But, at the same moment, he opened the door, and entered the room. Hewas immediately beginning an apology, and starting back, but Henriettacatching him by the arm, told him in a low voice, that she had made useof his room because she had thought him engaged for the day, but beggedhim to keep still and quiet, as the least noise would discover them. 

Belfield then stopt; but the embarrassment of Cecilia was extreme; tofind herself in his room after the speeches she had heard from hismother, and to continue with him in it by connivance, when she knew shehad been represented as quite at his service, distressed and provokedher immeasurably; and she felt very angry with Henrietta for not soonerinforming her whose apartment she had borrowed. Yet now to remove, andto be seen, was not to be thought of; she kept, therefore, fixed to herseat, though changing colour every moment from the variety of heremotions. 

During this painful interruption she lost Mrs Belfield's next answer, and another speech or two from Mr Delvile, to whose own passion andloudness was owing Belfield's entering his room unheard: but the nextvoice that called their attention was that of Mr Hobson, who just thenwalked into the parlour. 

"Why what's to do here?" cried he, facetiously, "nothing but chairs andlivery servants! Why, ma'am, what is this your rout day? Sir your mosthumble servant. I ask pardon, but I did not know you at first. Butcome, suppose we were all to sit down? Sitting's as cheap as standing, and what I say is this; when a man's tired, it's more agreeable. "

"Have you any thing further, ma'am, " said Mr Delvile, with greatsolemnity, "to communicate to me?"

"No, Sir, " said Mrs Belfield, rather angrily, "it's no business of mineto be communicating myself to a gentleman that I don't know the nameof. Why, Mr Hobson, how come you to know the gentleman?"

"To know _me_!" repeated Mr Delvile, scornfully. 

"Why I can't say much, ma'am, " answered Mr Hobson, "as to my knowingthe gentleman, being I have been in his company but once; and what Isay is, to know a person if one leaves but a quart in a hogshead, it'stwo pints too much. That's my notion. But, Sir, that was but an ungainbusiness at 'Squire Monckton's t'other morning. Every body was no-how, as one may say. But, Sir, if I may be so free, pray what is yourprivate opinion of that old gentleman that talked so much out of theway?"

"My private opinion, Sir?"

"Yes, Sir; I mean if it's no secret, for as to a secret, I hold it'swhat no man has a right to enquire into, being of its own nature it's athing not to be told. Now as to what I think myself, my doctrine isthis; I am quite of the old gentleman's mind about some things, andabout others I hold him to be quite wide of the mark. But as to talkingin such a whisky frisky manner that nobody can understand him, why itstantamount to not talking at all, being he might as well hold histongue. That's what _I_ say. And then as to that other article, ofabusing a person for not giving away all his lawful gains to everycripple in the streets, just because he happens to have but one leg, orone eye, or some such matter, why it's knowing nothing of business!it's what _I_ call talking at random. "

"When you have finished, Sir, " said Mr Delvile, "you will be so good tolet me know. "

"I don't mean to intrude, Sir; that's not my way, so if you are uponbusiness--"

"What else, Sir, could you suppose brought me hither? However, I by nomeans purpose any discussion. I have only a few words more to say tothis gentlewoman, and as my time is not wholly inconsequential, Ishould not be sorry to have an early opportunity of being heard. "

"I shall leave you with the lady directly, Sir; for I know businessbetter than to interrupt it: but seeing chairs in the entry, my notionwas I should see ladies in the parlour, not much thinking ofgentlemen's going about in that manner, being I never did it myself. But I have nothing to offer against that; let every man have his ownway; that's what _I_ say. Only just let me ask the lady before I go, what's the meaning of my seeing two chairs in the entry, and only aperson for one in the parlour? The gentleman, I suppose, did not comein _both_; ha! ha! ha!"

"Why now you put me in mind, " said Mrs Belfield, "I saw a chair as soonas I come in; and I was just going to say who's here, when thisgentleman's coming put it out of my head. "

"Why this is what I call Hocus Pocus work!" said Mr Hobson; "but Ishall make free to ask the chairmen who they are waiting for. "

Mrs Belfield, however, anticipated him; for running into the passage, she angrily called out, "What do you do here, Misters? do you only cometo be out of the rain? I'll have no stand made of my entry, I can tellyou!"

"Why we are waiting for the lady, " cried one of them. 

"Waiting for a fiddlestick!" said Mrs Belfield; "here's no lady here, nor no company; so if you think I'll have my entry filled up by twohulking fellows for nothing, I shall shew you the difference. One'sdirt enough of one's own, without taking people out of the streets tohelp one. Who do you think's to clean after you?"

"That's no business of ours; the lady bid us wait, " answered the man. 

Cecilia at this dispute could with pleasure have cast herself out ofthe window to avoid being discovered; but all plan of escape was toolate; Mrs Belfield called aloud for her daughter, and then, returningto the front parlour, said, "I'll soon know if there's company come tomy house without my knowing it!" and opened a door leading to the nextroom!

Cecilia, who had hitherto sat fixed to her chair, now hastily arose, but in a confusion too cruel for speech: Belfield, wondering even athis own situation, and equally concerned and surprised at her evidentdistress, had himself the feeling of a culprit, though without theleast knowledge of any cause: and Henrietta, terrified at the prospectof her mother's anger, retreated as much as possible out of sight. 

Such was the situation of the discovered, abashed, perplexed, andembarrassed! while that of the discoverers, far different, was bold, delighted, and triumphant!

"So!" cried Mrs Belfield, "why here's Miss Beverley!--in my son's backroom!" winking at Mr Delvile. 

"Why here's a lady, sure enough!" said Mr Hobson, "and just where sheshould be, and that is with a gentleman. Ha! ha! that's the right way, according to my notion! that's the true maxim for living agreeable. "

"I came to see Miss Belfield, " cried Cecilia, endeavouring, but vainly, to speak with composure, "and she brought me into this room. "

"I am but this moment, " cried Belfield, with eagerness, "returned home;and unfortunately broke into the room, from total ignorance of thehonour which Miss Beverley did my sister. "

These speeches, though both literally true, sounded, in thecircumstances which brought them out, so much as mere excuses, thatwhile Mr Delvile haughtily marked his incredulity by a motion of hischin, Mrs Belfield continued winking at him most significantly, and MrHobson, with still less ceremony, laughed aloud. 

"I have nothing more, ma'am, " said Mr Delvile to Mrs Belfield, "toenquire, for the few doubts with which I came to this house are nowentirely satisfied. Good morning to you, ma'am. "

"Give me leave, Sir, " said Cecilia, advancing with more spirit, "toexplain, in presence of those who can best testify my veracity, thereal circumstances--"

"I would by no means occasion you such unnecessary trouble, ma'am, "answered he, with an air at once exulting and pompous, "the situationin which I see you abundantly satisfies my curiosity, and saves me fromthe apprehension I was under of being again convicted of a _mistake_!"

He then made her a stiff bow, and went to his chair. 

Cecilia, colouring deeply at this contemptuous treatment, coldly tookleave of Henrietta, and courtsying to Mrs Belfield, hastened into thepassage, to get into her own. 

Henrietta was too much intimidated to speak, and Belfield was toodelicate to follow her; Mr Hobson only said "The young lady seems quitedashed;" but Mrs Belfield pursued her with entreaties she would stay. 

She was too angry, however, to make any answer but by a distant bow ofthe head, and left the house with a resolution little short of a vownever again to enter it. 

Her reflections upon this unfortunate visit were bitter beyond measure;the situation in which she had been surprised, --clandestinely concealedwith only Belfield and his sister--joined to the positive assertions ofher partiality for him made by his mother, could not, to Mr Delvile, but appear marks irrefragable that his charge in his formerconversation was rather mild than over-strained, and that theconnection he had mentioned, for whatever motives denied, wasincontestably formed. 

The apparent conviction of this part of the accusation, might alsoauthorise, to one but too happy in believing ill of her, an implicitfaith in that which regarded her having run out her fortune. Hisdetermination not to hear her shewed the inflexibility of hischaracter; and it was evident, notwithstanding his parading pretensionsof wishing her welfare, that his inordinate pride was inflamed, at thevery supposition he could be mistaken or deceived for a moment. 

Even Delvile himself, if gone abroad, might now hear this account withexaggerations that would baffle all his confidence: his mother, too, greatly as she esteemed and loved her, might have the matter sorepresented as to stagger her good opinion;--these were thoughts themost afflicting she could harbour, though their probability was suchthat to banish them was impossible. 

To apply again to Mr Delvile to hear her vindication, was to subjectherself to insolence, and almost to court indignity. She disdained evento write to him, since his behaviour called for resentment, notconcession; and such an eagerness to be heard, in opposition to alldiscouragement, would be practising a meanness that would almost meritrepulsion. 

Her first inclination was to write to Mrs Delvile, but what now, toher, was either her defence or accusation? She had solemnly renouncedall further intercourse with her, she had declared against writingagain, and prohibited her letters: and, therefore, after muchfluctuation of opinion, her delicacy concurred with her judgment, toconclude it would be most proper, in a situation so intricate, to leavethe matter to chance, and commit her character to time. 

In the evening, while she was at tea with Lady Margaret and MissBennet, she was suddenly called out to speak to a young woman; andfound, to her great surprise, she was no other than Henrietta. 

"Ah madam!" she cried, "how angrily did you go away this morning! ithas made me miserable ever since, and if you go out of town withoutforgiving me, I shall fret myself quite ill! my mother is gone out totea, and I have run here all alone, and in the dark, and in the wet, tobeg and pray you will forgive me, for else I don't know what I shalldo!"

"Sweet, gentle girl!" cried Cecilia, affectionately embracing her, "ifyou had excited all the anger I am capable of feeling, such softness asthis would banish it, and make me love you more than ever!"

Henrietta then said, in her excuse, that she had thought herself quitesure of her brother's absence, who almost always spent the whole day atthe bookseller's, as in writing himself he perpetually wanted toconsult other authors, and had very few books at their lodgings: butshe would not mention that the room was his, lest Cecilia should objectto making use of it, and she knew she had no other chance of having theconversation with her she had so very long wished for. She then againbegged her pardon, and hoped the behaviour of her mother would notinduce her to give her up, as she was shocked at it beyond measure, andas her brother, she assured her, was as innocent of it as herself. 

Cecilia heard her with pleasure, and felt for her an encreasing regard. The openness of her confidence in the morning had merited all heraffection, and she gave her the warmest protestations of a friendshipwhich she was certain would be lasting as her life. 

Henrietta then, with a countenance that spoke the lightness of herheart, hastily took her leave, saying she did not dare be out longer, lest her mother should discover her excursion. Cecilia insisted, however, upon her going in a chair, which she ordered her servant toattend, and take care himself to discharge. 

This visit, joined to the tender and unreserved conversation of themorning, gave Cecilia the strongest desire to invite her to her housein the country; but the terror of Mrs Belfield's insinuations, added tothe cruel interpretations she had to expect from Mr Delvile, forbid herindulging this wish, though it was the only one that just now she couldform. 

CHAPTER vii. 

A CALM. 

Cecilia took leave over night of the family, as she would not staytheir rising in the morning: Mr Monckton, though certain not to sleepwhen she was going, forbearing to mark his solicitude by quitting hisapartment at any unusual hour. Lady Margaret parted from her with heraccustomed ungraciousness, and Miss Bennet, because in her presence, ina manner scarcely less displeasing. 

The next morning, with only her servants, the moment it was light, sheset out. Her journey was without incident or interruption, and she wentimmediately to the house of Mrs Bayley, where she had settled to boardtill her own was finished. 

Mrs Bayley was a mere good sort of woman, who lived decently well withher servants, and tolerably well with her neighbours, upon a smallannuity, which made her easy and comfortable, though by no meanssuperior to such an addition to her little income as an occasionalboarder might produce. 

Here Cecilia continued a full month: which time had no other employmentthan what she voluntarily gave to herself by active deeds ofbenevolence. 

At Christmas, to the no little joy of the neighbourhood, she tookpossession of her own house, which was situated about three miles fromBury. 

The better sort of people were happy to see her thus settled amongstthem, and the poorer, who by what they already had received, knew wellwhat they still might expect, regarded the day in which she fixedherself in her mansion, as a day to themselves of prosperity andtriumph. 

As she was no longer, as hitherto, repairing to a temporary habitation, which at pleasure she might quit, and to which, at a certain period, she could have no possible claim, but to a house which was her own forever, or, at least, could solely by her own choice be transferred, shedetermined, as much as was in her power, in quitting her desultorydwellings, to empty her mind of the transactions which had passed inthem, and upon entering a house where she was permanently to reside, tomake the expulsion of her past sorrows, the basis upon which toestablish her future serenity. 

And this, though a work of pain and difficulty, was not impracticable;her sensibility, indeed, was keen, and she had suffered from it theutmost torture; but her feelings were not more powerful than herunderstanding was strong, and her fortitude was equal to her trials. Her calamities had saddened, but not weakened her mind, and the wordsof Delvile in speaking of his mother occurred to her now with all theconviction of experience, that "evils inevitable are always bestsupported, because known to be past amendment, and felt to givedefiance to struggling. " [Footnote: See Vol. Ii. P. 317. ]

A plan by which so great a revolution was to be wrought in her mind, was not to be effected by any sudden effort of magnanimity, but by aregular and even tenour of courage mingled with prudence. Nothing, therefore, appeared to her so indispensable as constant employment, bywhich a variety of new images might force their way in her mind tosupplant the old ones, and by which no time might be allowed forbrooding over melancholy retrospections. 

Her first effort, in this work of mental reformation, was to part withFidel, whom hitherto she had almost involuntarily guarded, but whom sheonly could see to revive the most dangerous recollections. She senthim, therefore, to the castle, but without any message; Mrs Delvile, she was sure, would require none to make her rejoice in hisrestoration. 

Her next step was writing to Albany, who had given her his direction, to acquaint him she was now ready to put in practice their longconcerted scheme. Albany instantly hastened to her, and joyfullyaccepted the office of becoming at once her Almoner and her Monitor. Hemade it his business to seek objects of distress, and always but toocertain to find them, of conducting her himself to their habitations, and then leaving to her own liberality the assistance their severalcases demanded: and, in the overflowing of his zeal upon theseoccasions, and the rapture of his heart in thus disposing, almost athis pleasure, of her noble fortune, he seemed, at times, to feel anextasy that, from its novelty and its excess, was almost too exquisiteto be borne. He joined with the beggars in pouring blessings upon herhead, he prayed for her with the poor, and he thanked her with thesuccoured. 

The pew-opener and her children failed not to keep their appointment, and Cecilia presently contrived to settle them in her neighbourhood:where the poor woman, as she recovered her strength, soon got a littlework, and all deficiencies in her power of maintaining herself weresupplied by her generous patroness. The children, however, she orderedto be coarsely brought up, having no intention to provide for them butby helping them to common employments. 

The promise, also, so long made to Mrs Harrel of an apartment in herhouse, was now performed. That lady accepted it with the utmostalacrity, glad to make any change in her situation, which constantsolitude had rendered wholly insupportable. Mr Arnott accompanied herto the house, and spent one day there; but receiving from Cecilia, though extremely civil and sweet to him, no hint of any invitation forrepeating his visit, he left it in sadness, and returned to his own indeep dejection. Cecilia saw with concern how he nourished his hopelesspassion, but knew that to suffer his visits would almost authorise hisfeeding it; and while she pitied unaffectedly the unhappiness sheoccasioned, she resolved to double her own efforts towards avoidingsimilar wretchedness. 

This action, however, was a point of honour, not of friendship, thetime being long since past that the society of Mrs Harrel could affordher any pleasure; but the promises she had so often made to Mr Harrelin his distresses, though extorted from her merely by the terrors ofthe moment, still were promises, and, therefore, she held herself boundto fulfil them. 

Yet far from finding comfort in this addition to her family, Mrs Harrelproved to her nothing more than a trouble and an incumbrance; with noinherent resources, she was continually in search of occasionalsupplies; she fatigued Cecilia with wonder at the privacy of her life, and tormented her with proposals of parties and entertainments. She waseternally in amazement that with powers so large, she had wishes soconfined, and was evidently disappointed that upon coming to so amplean estate, she lived, with respect to herself and her family, with nomore magnificence or shew than if Heiress to only ú500 a year. 

But Cecilia was determined to think and to live for herself, withoutregard to unmeaning wonder or selfish remonstrances; she had neitherambition for splendour, nor spirits for dissipation; the recent sorrowof her heart had deadened it for the present to all personal taste ofhappiness, and her only chance for regaining it, seemed through themedium of bestowing it upon others. She had seen, too, by Mr Harrel, how wretchedly external brilliancy could cover inward woe, and she hadlearned at Delvile Castle to grow sick of parade and grandeur. Herequipage, therefore, was without glare, though not without elegance, her table was plain, though hospitably plentiful, her servants were foruse, though too numerous to be for labour. The system of her oeconomy, like that of her liberality, was formed by rules of reason, and her ownideas of right, and not by compliance with example, nor by emulationwith the gentry in her neighbourhood. 

But though thus deviating in her actions from the usual customs of theyoung and rich, she was peculiarly careful not to offend them bysingularity of manners. When she mixed with them, she was easy, unaffected, and well bred, and though she saw them but seldom, her goodhumour and desire of obliging kept them always her friends. The planshe had early formed at Mrs Harrel's she now studied daily to put inpractice; but that part by which the useless or frivolous were to beexcluded her house, she found could only be supported by driving fromher half her acquaintance. 

Another part, also, of that project she found still less easy ofadoption, which was solacing herself with the society of the wise, good, and intelligent. Few answered this description, and those fewwere with difficulty attainable. Many might with joy have sought outher liberal dwelling, but no one had idly waited till the moment it wasat her disposal. All who possessed at once both talents and wealth, were so generally courted they were rarely to be procured; and all whoto talents alone owed their consequence, demanded, if worth acquiring, time and delicacy to be obtained. Fortune she knew, however, was sooften at war with Nature, that she doubted not shortly meeting thosewho would gladly avail themselves of her offered protection. 

Yet, tired of the murmurs of Mrs Harrel, she longed for some relieffrom her society, and her desire daily grew stronger to owe that reliefto Henrietta Belfield. The more she meditated upon this wish, the lessunattainable it appeared to her, till by frequently combating itsdifficulties, she began to consider them imaginary: Mrs Belfield, whileher son was actually with herself, might see she took not Henrietta ashis appendage; and Mr Delvile, should he make further enquiries, mighthear that her real connection was with the sister, since she receivedher in the country, where the brother made no pretence to follow her. She considered, too, how ill she should be rewarded in giving upHenrietta for Mr Delvile, who was already determined to think ill ofher, and whose prejudices no sacrifice would remove. 

Having hesitated, therefore, some time between the desire of presentalleviation, and the fear of future mischief, the consciousness of herown innocence at length vanquished all dread of unjust censure, and shewrote an invitation to Henrietta enclosed in a letter to her mother. 

The answer of Henrietta expressed her rapture at the proposal; and thatof Mrs Belfield made no objection but to the expence. 

Cecilia, therefore, sent her own maid to travel with her into Suffolk, with proper directions to pay for the journey. 

The gratitude of the delighted Henrietta at the meeting was boundless;and her joy at so unexpected a mark of favour made her half wild. Cecilia suffered it not to languish for want of kindness to support it;she took her to her bosom, became the soother of all her cares, andreposed in her, in return, every thought that led not to Delvile. 

There, however, she was uniformly silent; solemnly and eternally partedfrom him, far from trusting the secret of her former connexion toHenrietta, the whole study of her life was to drive the remembrance ofit from herself. 

Henrietta now tasted a happiness to which as yet her whole life hadbeen a stranger; she was suddenly removed from turbulent vulgarity tothe enjoyment of calm elegance; and the gentleness of her disposition, instead of being tyrannically imposed upon, not only made her lovedwith affection, but treated with the most scrupulous delicacy. Ceciliahad her share in all the comfort she bestowed; she had now a friend tooblige, and a companion to converse with. She communicated to her allher schemes, and made her the partner of her benevolent excursions; shefound her disposition as amiable upon trial, as her looks and hermanners had been engaging at first sight; and her constant presence andconstant sweetness, imperceptibly revived her spirits, and gave a newinterest to her existence. 

Meantime Mr Monckton, who returned in about a fortnight to the Grove, observed the encreasing influence of Albany with the most seriousconcern. The bounties of Cecilia, extensive, magnificent, unlimited, were the theme of every tongue, and though sometimes censured andsometimes admired, they were wondered at universally. He suffered herfor a while to go on without remonstrance, hoping her enthusiasm wouldabate, as its novelty wore out: but finding that week following weekwas still distinguished by some fresh act of beneficence, he grew soalarmed and uneasy, he could restrain himself no longer. He spoke toher with warmth, he represented her conduct as highly dangerous in itsconsequence; he said she would but court impostors from every corner ofthe kingdom, called Albany a lunatic, whom she should rather avoid thanobey; and insinuated that if a report was spread of her proceedings, acharity so prodigal, would excite such alarm, that no man would thinkeven her large and splendid fortune, would ensure him from ruin inseeking her alliance. 

Cecilia heard this exhortation without either terror or impatience, andanswered it with the utmost steadiness. His influence over her mind wasno longer uncontrolled, for though her suspicions were notstrengthened, they had never been removed, and friendship has no foe sodangerous as distrust! She thanked him, however, for his zeal, butassured him his apprehensions were groundless, since though she actedfrom inclination, she acted not without thought. Her income was verylarge, and she was wholly without family or connection; to spend itmerely upon herself would be something still worse than extravagance, it must result from wilfulness the most inexcusable, as her dispositionwas naturally averse to luxury and expence. She might save indeed, butfor whom? not a creature had such a claim upon her; and with regard toherself, she was so provided for it would be unnecessary. She wouldnever, she declared, run in debt even for a week, but while her estatewas wholly clear, she would spend it without restriction. 

To his hint of any future alliance, she only said that those whodisapproved her conduct, would probably be those she should disapprovein her turn; should such an event however take place, the retrenchingfrom that time all her present peculiar expences, would surely, in aclear ú3000 a-year, leave her rich enough for any man, without makingit incumbent upon her at present, to deny herself the only pleasure shecould taste, in bestowing that money which to her was superfluous, uponthose who received it as the prolongation of their existence. 

A firmness so deliberate in a system he so much dreaded, greatlyshocked Mr Monckton, though it intimidated him from opposing it; he sawshe was too earnest, and too well satisfied she was right, to venturegiving her disgust by controverting her arguments; the conversation, therefore, ended with new discontent to himself, and with an impressionupon the mind of Cecilia, that though he was zealous and friendly, hewas somewhat too worldly and suspicious. 

She went on, therefore, as before, distributing with a lavish hand allshe could spare from her own household; careful of nothing but ofguarding against imposition, which, though she sometimes unavoidablyendured, her discernment, and the activity of her investigatingdiligence, saved her from suffering frequently. And the steadiness withwhich she repulsed those whom she detected in deceit, was a check upontricks and fraud, though it could not wholly put a stop to them. 

Money, to her, had long appeared worthless and valueless; it had failedto procure her the establishment for which she once flattered herselfit seemed purposely designed; it had been disdained by the Delviles, for the sake of whose connection she had alone ever truly rejoiced inpossessing it; and after such a conviction of its inefficacy to secureher happiness, she regarded it as of little importance to herself, andtherefore thought it almost the due of those whose distresses gave it aconsequence to which with her it was a stranger. 

In this manner with Cecilia passed the first winter of her majority. She had sedulously filled it with occupations, and her occupations hadproved fertile in keeping her mind from idleness, and in restoring itto chearfulness. Calls upon her attention so soothing, and avocationsso various for her time, had answered the great purpose for whichoriginally she had planned them, in almost forcing from her thoughtsthose sorrows which, if indulged, would have rested in themincessantly. 

CHAPTER viii. 

AN ALARM. 

The spring was now advancing, and the weather was remarkably fine; whenone morning, while Cecilia was walking with Mrs Harrel and Henrietta onthe lawn before her house, to which the last dinner bell was justsummoning them, to return, Mrs Harrel looked round and stopt at sightof a gentleman galloping towards them, who in less than a minuteapproached, and dismounting and leaving his horse to his servant, struck them all at the same instant to be no other than young Delvile!

A sight so unexpected, so unaccountable, so wonderful, after an absenceso long, and to which they were mutually bound, almost wholly over-powered Cecilia from surprise and a thousand other feelings, and shecaught Mrs Harrel by the arm, not knowing what she did, as if forsuccour; while Henrietta with scarce less, though much more glademotion, suddenly exclaimed, "'tis Mr Delvile!" and sprang forward tomeet him. 

He had reached them, and in a voice that spoke hurry and perturbation, respectfully made his compliments to them all, before Cecilia recoveredeven the use of her feet: but no sooner were they restored to her, thanshe employed them with the quickest motion in her power, still leaningupon Mrs Harrel, to hasten into the house. Her solemn promise to MrsDelvile became uppermost in her thoughts, and her surprise was soonsucceeded by displeasure, that thus, without any preparation, he forcedher to break it by an interview she had no means to prevent. 

Just as they reached the entrance into the house, the Butler came totell Cecilia that dinner was upon the table. Delvile then went up toher, and said, "May I wait upon you for one instant before--or afteryou dine?"

"I am engaged, Sir, " answered she, though hardly able to speak, "forthe whole day. "

"You will not, I hope, refuse to hear me, " cried he, eagerly, "I cannotwrite what I have to say, --"

"There is no occasion that you should, Sir, " interrupted she, "since Ishould scarcely find time to read it. "

She then courtsied, though without looking at him, and went into thehouse; Delvile remaining in utter dismay, not daring, however wishing, to follow her. But when Mrs Harrel, much surprised at behaviour sounusual from Cecilia, approached him with some civil speeches, hestarted, and wishing her good day, bowed, and remounted his horse:pursued by the soft eyes of Henrietta till wholly out of sight. 

They then both followed Cecilia to the dining-parlour. 

Had not Mrs Harrel been of this small party, the dinner would have beenserved in vain; Cecilia, still trembling with emotion, bewildered withconjecture, angry with Delvile for thus surprising her, angry withherself for so severely receiving him, amazed what had tempted him tosuch a violation of their joint agreement, and irresolute as much whatto wish as what to think, was little disposed for eating, and withdifficulty compelled herself to do the honours of her table. 

Henrietta, whom the sight of Delvile had at once delighted anddisturbed, whom the behaviour of Cecilia had filled with wonder andconsternation, and whom the evident inquietude and disappointment whichthat behaviour had given to Delvile, had struck with grief and terror, could not swallow even a morsel, but having cut her meat about herplate, gave it, untouched, to a servant. 

Mrs Harrel, however, though she had had her share in the surprise, hadwholly escaped all other emotion; and only concluded in her own mind, that Cecilia could sometimes be out of humour and ill bred, as well asthe rest of the world. 

While the dessert was serving, a note was brought to Henrietta, which aservant was waiting in great haste to have answered. 

Henrietta, stranger to all forms of politeness, though by nature soft, obliging and delicate, opened it immediately; she started as she casther eye over it, but blushed, sparkled, and looked enchanted, andhastily rising, without even a thought of any apology, ran out of theroom to answer it. 

Cecilia, whose quick eye, by a glance unavoidable, had seen the hand ofDelvile, was filled with new amazement at the sight. As soon as theservants were gone, she begged Mrs Harrel to excuse her, and went toher own apartment. 

Here, in a few minutes, she was followed by Henrietta, whosecountenance beamed with pleasure, and whose voice spoke tumultuousdelight. "My dear, dear Miss Beverley!" she cried, "I have such a thingto tell you!--you would never guess it, --I don't know how to believe itmyself, --but Mr Delvile has written to me!--he has indeed! that notewas from him. --I have been locking it up, for fear of accidents, butI'll run and fetch it, that you may see it yourself. "

She then ran away; leaving Cecilia much perplexed, much uneasy forherself, and both grieved and alarmed for the too tender, toosusceptible Henrietta, who was thus easily the sport of every airy andcredulous hope. 

"If I did not shew it you, " cried Henrietta, running back in a moment, "you would never think it possible, for it is to make such a request--that it has frightened me almost out of my wits!"

Cecilia then read the note. 

_To Miss Belfield_. 

Mr Delvile presents his compliments to Miss Belfield, and begs to bepermitted to wait upon her for a few minutes, at any time in theafternoon she will be so good as to appoint. 

"Only think, " cried the rapturous Henrietta, "it was _me_, poor simple_me_, of all people, that he wanted so to speak with!--I am sure Ithought a different thought when he went away! but do, dearest MissBeverley, tell me this one thing, what do you think he can have to sayto me?"

"Indeed, " replied Cecilia, extremely embarrassed, it is impossible forme to conjecture. "

"If _you_ can't, I am sure, then, it is no wonder _I_ can't! and I havebeen thinking of a million of things in a minute. It can't be about anybusiness, because I know nothing in the world of any business; and itcan't be about my brother, because he would go to our house in townabout him, and there he would see him himself; and it can't be about mydear Miss Beverley, because then he would have written the note to herand it can't be about any body else, because I know nobody else of hisacquaintance. "

Thus went on the sanguine Henrietta, settling whom and what it could_not_ be about, till she left but the one thing to which her wishespointed that it _could_ be about. Cecilia heard her with truecompassion, certain that she was deceiving herself with imaginationsthe most pernicious; yet unable to know how to quell them, while insuch doubt and darkness herself. 

This conversation was soon interrupted, by a message that a gentlemanin the parlour begged to speak with Miss Belfield. 

"O dearest, dearest Miss Beverley!" cried Henrietta, with encreasingagitation, "what in the world shall I say to him, advise me, prayadvise me, for I can't think of a single word!"

"Impossible, my dear Henrietta, unless I knew what he would say toyou!"

"O but I can guess, I can guess!"--cried she, her cheeks glowing, whileher whole frame shook, "and I sha'n't know what in the whole world toanswer him! I know I shall behave like a fool, --I know I shall disgracemyself sadly!"

Cecilia, truly sorry Delvile should see her in such emotion, endeavoured earnestly to compose her, though never less tranquilherself. But she could not succeed, and she went down stairs withexpectations of happiness almost too potent for her reason. 

Not such were those of Cecilia; a dread of some new conflict tookpossession of her mind, that mind so long tortured with struggles, solately restored to serenity!

Henrietta soon returned, but not the same Henrietta she went;--theglow, the hope, the flutter were all over; she looked pale and wan, butattempting, as she entered the room, to call up a smile, she failed, and burst into tears. 

Cecilia threw her arms round her neck, and tried to console her; but, happy to hide her face in her bosom, she only gave the freer indulgenceto her grief, and rather melted than comforted by her tenderness, sobbed aloud. 

Cecilia too easily conjectured the disappointment she had met, to painher by asking it; she forbore even to gratify her own curiosity byquestions that could not but lead to her mortification, and sufferingher therefore to take her own time for what she had to communicate, shehung over her in silence with the most patient pity. 

Henrietta was very sensible of this kindness, though she knew not halfits merit: but it was a long time before she could articulate, forsobbing, that _all_ Mr Delvile wanted, at last, was only to beg shewould acquaint Miss Beverley, that he had done himself the honour ofwaiting upon her with a message from Mrs Delvile. 

"From Mrs Delvile?" exclaimed Cecilia, all emotion in her turn, "goodheaven! how much, then, have I been to blame? where is he now?--wherecan I send to him?--tell me, my sweet Henrietta, this instant!"

"Oh madam!" cried Henrietta, bursting into a fresh flood of tears, "howfoolish have I been to open my silly heart to you!--he is come to payhis addresses to you!--I am sure he is!--"

"No, no, no!" cried Cecilia, "indeed he is not!--but I must, I ought tosee him, --where, my love, is he?", "In the parlour, --waiting for an answer. --"

Cecilia, who at any other time would have been provoked at such a delayin the delivery of a message so important, felt now nothing but concernfor Henrietta, whom she hastily kissed, but instantly, however, quitted, and hurried to Delvile, with expectations almost equallysanguine as those her poor friend but the moment before had crushed. 

"Oh now, " thought she, "if at last Mrs Delvile herself has relented, with what joy will I give up all reserve, all disguise, and franklyavow the faithful affection of my heart!"

Delvile received her not with the eagerness with which he had firstaddressed her; he looked extremely disturbed, and, even after herentrance, undetermined how to begin. 

She waited, however, his explanation in silence; and, after anirresolute pause, he said, with a gravity not wholly free fromresentment, "I presumed, madam, to wait upon you from the permission ofmy mother; but I believe I have obtained it so late, that the influenceI hoped from it is past!"

"I had no means, Sir, " answered she, chearfully, "to know that you camefrom her: I should else have received her commands without anyhesitation. "

"I would thank you for the honour you do her, were it less pointedlyexclusive. I have, however, no right of reproach! yet suffer me to ask, could you, madam, after such a parting, after a renunciation soabsolute of all future claim upon you, which though extorted from me byduty, I was bound, having promised, to fulfil by principle, -could youimagine me so unsteady, so dishonourable, as to obtrude myself intoyour presence while that promise was still in force?"

"I find, " cried Cecilia, in whom a secret hope every moment grewstronger, "I have been too hasty; I did indeed believe Mrs Delvilewould never authorise such a visit; but as you have so much surprisedme, I have a right to your pardon for a little doubt. "

"There spoke Miss Beverley!" cried Delvile, reanimating at this littleapology, "the same, the unaltered Miss Beverley I hoped to find!--yet_is_ she unaltered? am I not too precipitate? and is the tale I haveheard about Belfield a dream? an error? a falsehood?"

"But that so quick a succession of quarrels, " said Cecilia, halfsmiling, "would be endless perplexity, I, now, would be affronted thatyou can ask me such a question. "

"Had I, indeed, _thought_ it a question, " cried he, "I would not haveasked it: but never for a moment did I credit it, till the rigour ofyour repulse alarmed me. You have condescended, now, to account forthat, and I am therefore encouraged to make known to you the purpose ofmy venturing this visit. Yet not with confidence shall I speak if, scarce even with hope!--it is a purpose that is the offspring ofdespair, --

"One thing, Sir, " cried Cecilia, who now became frightened again, "letme say before you proceed; if your purpose has not the sanction of MrsDelvile, as well as your visit, I would gladly be excused hearing it, since I shall most certainly refuse it. "

"I would mention nothing, " answered he, "without her concurrence; shehas given it me: and my father himself has permitted my presentapplication. "

"Good Heaven!" cried Cecilia, "is it possible!" clasping her handstogether in the eagerness of her surprise and delight. 

"_Is it possible_!" repeated Delvile, with a look of rapture; "ah MissBeverley!--once my own Cecilia!--do you, can you _wish_ it possible?"

"No, No!" cried she, while pleasure and expectation sparkled in hereyes, "I wish nothing about it. --Yet tell me how it has happened, --I am_curious_, " added she, smiling, "though not interested in it. "

"What hope would this sweetness give me, " cried he, "were my schemealmost any other than it is!--but you cannot, --no, it would beunreasonable, it would be madness to expect your compliance!--it isnext to madness even in me to wish it, --but how shall a man who isdesperate be prudent and circumspect?"

"Spare, spare yourself, " cried the ingenuous Cecilia, "this, unnecessary pain!--you will find from me no unnecessary scruples. "

"You know not what you say!--all noble as you are, the sacrifice I haveto propose--"

"Speak it, " cried she, "with confidence! speak it even with certaintyof success! I will be wholly undisguised, and openly, honestly own toyou, that no proposal, no sacrifice can be mentioned, to which I willnot instantly agree, if first it has had the approbation of MrsDelvile. "

Delvile's gratitude and thanks for a concession never before sovoluntarily made to him, interrupted for a while, even his power ofexplaining himself. And now, for the first time, Cecilia's sinceritywas chearful, since now, for the first time, it seemed opposed by noduty. 

When still, therefore, he hesitated, she herself held out her hand tohim, saying, "what must I do more? must I offer this pledge to you?"

"For my life would I not resign it!" cried he, delightedly receivingit; "but oh, how soon will you withdraw it, when the only terms uponwhich I can hold it, are those of making it sign from itself itsnatural right and inheritance?"

Cecilia, not comprehending him, only looked amazed, and he proceeded. 

"Can you, for my sake, make such a sacrifice as this? can you for a manwho for yours is not permitted to give up his name, give up yourselfthe fortune of your late uncle? consent to such settlements as I canmake upon you from my own? part with so splendid an income wholly andfor-ever?--and with only your paternal L10, 000 condescend to becomemine, as if your uncle had never existed, and you had been Heiress tono other wealth?"

This, indeed, was a stroke to Cecilia unequalled by any she had met, and more cruel than any she could have in reserve. At the proposal ofparting with her uncle's fortune, which, desirable as it was, had asyet been only productive to her of misery, her heart, disinterested, and wholly careless of money, was prompt to accede to the condition;but at the mention of her paternal fortune, that fortune, of which, now, not the smallest vestige remained, horror seized all herfaculties! she turned pale, she trembled, she involuntarily drew backher hand, and betrayed, by speechless agitation, the sudden agonies ofher soul!

Delvile, struck by this evident dismay, instantly concluded his planhad disgusted her. He waited some minutes in anxious expectation of ananswer, but finding her silence continued while her emotion encreased, the deepest crimson dyed his face, and unable to check his chagrin, though not daring to confess his disappointment, he suddenly quittedher, and walked, in much disorder, about the room. But soon recoveringsome composure, from the assistance of pride, "Pardon, madam, " he said, "a trial such as no man can be vindicated in making. I have indulged aromantic whim, which your better judgment disapproves, and I receivebut the mortification my presumption deserved. "

"You know not then, " said Cecilia, in a faint voice, "my inability tocomply?"

"Your ability or inability, I presume, are elective?"

"Oh no!--my power is lost--my fortune itself is gone!"

"Impossible! utterly impossible!" cried he with vehemence. 

"Oh that it were!--your father knows it but too well. "

"My father!"

"Did he, then, never hint it to you?"

"Oh distraction!" cried Delvile, "what horrible confirmation iscoming!" and again he walked away, as if wanting courage to hear her. 

Cecilia was too much shocked to force upon him her explanation; butpresently returning to her, he said, "_you_, only, could have made thiscredible!"

"Had you, then, actually heard it?"

"Oh I had heard it as the most infamous of falsehoods! my heart swelledwith indignation at so villainous a calumny, and had it not come frommy father, my resentment at it had been inveterate!"

"Alas!" cried Cecilia, "the fact is undeniable! yet the circumstancesyou may have heard with it, are I doubt not exaggerated. "

"Exaggerated indeed!" he answered; "I was told you had been surprisedconcealed with Belfield in a back room, I was told that your parentalfortune was totally exhausted, and that during your minority you hadbeen a dealer with Jews!--I was told all this by my father; you maybelieve I had else not easily been made hear it!"

"Yet thus far, " said she, "he told you but what is true; though--"

"True!" interrupted Delvile, with a start almost frantic. "Oh never, then, was truth so scandalously wronged!--I denied the whole charge!-Idisbelieved every syllable!--I pledged my own honour to prove everyassertion false!"

"Generous Delvile!" cried Cecilia, melting into tears, "this is what Iexpected from you! and, believe me, in _your_ integrity my reliance hadbeen similar!"

"Why does Miss Beverley weep?" cried he, softened, and approaching her, "and why has she given me this alarm? these things must at least havebeen misrepresented, deign, then, to clear up a mystery in whichsuspense is torture!"

Cecilia, then, with what precision and clearness her agitation allowedher, related the whole history of her taking up the money of the Jewfor Mr Harrel, and told, without reserve, the reason of her trying toabscond from his father at Mrs Belfield's. Delvile listened to heraccount with almost an agony of attention, now admiring her conduct;now resenting her ill usage; now compassionating her losses; but thoughvariously moved by different parts, receiving from the whole thedelight he most coveted in the establishment of her innocence. 

Thanks and applause the warmest, both accompanied and followed hernarration; and then, at her request, he related in return the severalincidents and circumstances to which he had owed the permission of thisvisit. 

He had meant immediately to have gone abroad; but the indisposition ofhis mother made him unwilling to leave the kingdom till her healthseemed in a situation less precarious. That time, however, came not;the Winter advanced, and she grew evidently worse. He gave over, therefore, his design till the next Spring, when, if she were able, itwas her desire to try the South of France for her recovery, whither hemeant to conduct her. 

But, during his attendance upon her, the plan he had just mentionedoccurred to him, and he considered how much greater would be his chanceof happiness in marrying Cecilia with scarce any fortune at all, thanin marrying another with the largest. He was convinced she was farother than expensive, or a lover of shew, and soon flattered himselfshe might be prevailed upon to concur with him, that in livingtogether, though comparatively upon little, they should mutually behappier than in living asunder upon much. 

When he started this scheme to his mother, she heard it with mingledadmiration of his disinterestedness, and regret at its occasion: yetthe loftiness of her own mind, her high personal value for Cecilia, heranxiety to see her son finally settled while she lived, lest hisdisappointment should keep him single from a lasting disgust, joined toa dejection of spirits from an apprehension that her interference hadbeen cruel, all favoured his scheme, and forbid her resistance. She hadoften protested, in their former conflicts, that had Cecilia beenportionless, her objections had been less than to an estate soconditioned; and that to give to her son a woman so exalted in herself, she would have conquered the mere opposition of interest, though thatof family honour she held invincible. Delvile now called upon her toremember those words, and ever strict in fidelity, she still promisedto abide by them. 

Ah! thought Cecilia, is virtue, then, as inconsistent as vice? and canthe same character be thus high-souled, thus nobly disinterested withregard to riches, whose pride is so narrow and so insurmountable, withrespect to family prejudice!

Yet such a sacrifice from Cecilia herself, whose income intitled her tosettlements the most splendid, Mrs Delvile thought scarcely to besolicited; but as her son was conscious he gave up in expectation noless than she would give up in possession, he resolved upon making theexperiment, and felt an internal assurance of success. 

This matter being finally settled with his mother, the harder taskremained of vanquishing the father, by whom, and before whom the nameof Cecilia was never mentioned, not even after his return from town, though loaded with imaginary charges against her. Mr Delvile held it adiminution of his own in the honour of his son, to suppose he wantedstill fresh motives for resigning her. He kept, therefore, to himselfthe ill opinion he brought down, as a resource in case of danger, but aresource he disdained to make use of, unless driven to it by absolutenecessity. 

But, at the new proposal of his son, the accusation held in reservebroke out; he called Cecilia a dabler with Jews, and said she had beenso from the time of her uncle's death; he charged her with the grossestgeneral extravagance, to which he added a most insidious attack uponher character, drawn from her visits at Belfield's of long standing, aswell as the particular time when he had himself surprised her concealedwith the young man in a back parlour: and he asserted, that most of thelarge sums she was continually taking up from her fortune, werelavished without scruple upon this dangerous and improper favourite. 

Delvile had heard this accusation with a rage scarce restrained fromviolence; confident in her innocence, he boldly pronounced the whole aforgery, and demanded the author of such cruel defamation. Mr Delvile, much offended, refused to name any authority, but consented, with anair of triumph, to abide by the effect of his own proposal, and gavehim a supercilious promise no longer to oppose the marriage, if theterms he meant to offer to Miss Beverley, of renouncing her uncle'sestate, and producing her father's fortune, were accepted. 

"O little did I credit, " said Delvile in conclusion, "that he knewindeed so well this last condition was impracticable! his assertionswere without proof; I thought them prejudiced surmises; and I came inthe full hope I should convict him of his error. My mother, too, whowarmly and even angrily defended you, was as firmly satisfied as myselfthat the whole was a mistake, and that enquiry would prove your fortuneas undiminished as your purity. How will she be shocked at the tale Ihave now to unfold! how irritated at your injuries from Harrel! howgrieved that your own too great benevolence should be productive ofsuch black aspersions upon your character!"

"I have been, " cried Cecilia, "too facile and too unguarded; yetalways, at the moment, I seemed but guided by common humanity. I haveever thought myself secure of more wealth than I could require, andregarded the want of money as an evil from which I was unavoidablyexempted. My own fortune, therefore, appeared to me of smallconsequence, while the revenue of my uncle insured me perpetualprosperity. --Oh had I foreseen this moment--"

"Would you, then, have listened to my romantic proposal?"

"Would I have listened?--do you not see too plainly I could not havehesitated!"

"Oh yet, then, most generous of human beings, yet then be mine! By ourown oeconomy we will pay off our mortgages; by living a while abroad, we will clear all our estates; I will still keep the name to which myfamily is bigotted, and my gratitude for your compliance shall make youforget what you lose by it!"

"Speak not to me such words!" cried Cecilia, hastily rising; "yourfriends will not listen to them, neither, therefore, must I. "

"My friends, " cried he with energy, "are henceforth out of thequestion: my father's concurrence with a proposal he _knew_ you had notpower to grant, was in fact a mere permission to insult you; for if, instead of dark charges, he had given any authority for your losses, Ihad myself spared you the shock you have so undeservedly received fromhearing it. --But to consent to a plan which _could_ not be accepted!--to make me a tool to offer indignity to Miss Beverley!--He has releasedme from his power by so erroneous an exertion of it, and my own honourhas a claim to which his commands must give place. That honour binds meto Miss Beverley as forcibly as my admiration, and no voice but her ownshall determine my future destiny. "

"That voice, then, " said Cecilia, "again refers you to your mother. MrDelvile, indeed, has not treated me kindly; and this last mockconcession was unnecessary cruelty; but Mrs Delvile merits my utmostrespect, and I will listen to nothing which has not her previoussanction. "

"But will her sanction be sufficient? and may I hope, in obtaining it, the security of yours?"

"When I have said I will hear nothing without it, may you not almostinfer--I will refuse nothing with it!"

The acknowledgments he would now have poured forth, Cecilia would nothear, telling him, with some gaiety, they were yet unauthorized by MrsDelvile. She insisted upon his leaving her immediately, and never againreturning, without his mother's express approbation. With regard to hisfather, she left him totally to his own inclination; she had receivedfrom him nothing but pride and incivility, and determined to skewpublicly her superior respect for Mrs Delvile, by whose discretion anddecision she was content to abide. 

"Will you not, then, from time to time, " cried Delvile, "suffer me toconsult with you?"

"No, no, " answered she, "do not ask it! I have never been insincerewith you, never but from motives not to be overcome, reserved even fora moment; I have told you I will put every thing into the power of MrsDelvile, but I will not a second time risk my peace by any actionunknown to her. "

Delvile gratefully acknowledged her goodness, and promised to requirenothing more. He then obeyed her by taking leave, eager himself to putan end to this new uncertainty, and supplicating only that her goodwishes might follow his enterprise. 

And thus, again, was wholly broken the tranquility of Cecilia; newhopes, however faint, awakened all her affections, and strong fears, but too reasonable, interrupted her repose. Her destiny, once more, wasas undecided as ever, and the expectations she had crushed, retookpossession of her heart. 

The suspicions she had conceived of Mr Monckton again occurred to her;though unable to ascertain and unwilling to believe them, she tried todrive them from her thoughts. She lamented, however, with bitterness, her unfortunate connexion with Mr Harrel, whose unworthy impositionsupon her kindness of temper and generosity, now proved to her an evilfar more serious and extensive, than in the midst of her repugnance tothem she had ever apprehended. 

CHAPTER ix. 

A SUSPENSE. 

Delvile had been gone but a short time, before Henrietta, her eyesstill red, though no longer streaming, opened the parlour door, andasked if she might come in?

Cecilia wished to be alone, yet could not refuse her. 

"Well, madam, " cried she, with a forced smile, and constrained air ofbravery, "did not I guess right?"

"In what?" said Cecilia, unwilling to understand her. 

"In what I said would happen?--I am sure you know what I mean. "

Cecilia, extremely embarrassed, made no answer; she much regretted thecircumstances which had prevented an earlier communication, and wasuncertain whether, now, it would prove most kind or most cruel toacquaint her with what was in agitation, which, should it terminate innothing, was unnecessarily wounding her delicacy for the openness ofher confidence, and which, however serviceable it might prove to her inthe end, was in the means so rough and piercing she felt the utmostrepugnance to the experiment. 

"You think me, madam, too free, " said Henrietta, "in asking such aquestion; and indeed your kindness has been so great, it may well makeme forget myself: but if it does, I am sure I deserve you should sendme home directly, and then there is not much fear I shall soon hebrought to my senses!"

"No, my dear Henrietta, I can never think you too free; I have told youalready every thing I thought you would have pleasure in hearing;whatever I have concealed, I have been fearful would only pain you. "

"I have _deserved_, madam, " said she, with spirit, "to be pained, for Ihave behaved with the folly of a baby. I am very angry with myselfindeed! I was old enough to have known better, --and I ought to havebeen wise enough. "

"You must then be angry with yourself, next, " said Cecilia, anxious tore-encourage her, "for all the love that I bear you; since to youropenness and frankness it was entirely owing. "

"But there are some things that people should _not_ be frank in;however, I am only come now to beg you will tell me, madam, when it isto be;--and don't think I ask out of nothing but curiosity, for I have avery great reason for it indeed. "

"What be, my dear Henrietta?--you are very rapid in your ideas!"

"I will tell you, madam, what my reason is; I shall go away to my ownhome, --and so I would if it were ten times a worse home than it is!--just exactly the day before. Because afterwards I shall never like tolook that gentleman in the face, --never, never!--for married ladies Iknow are not to be trusted!"

"Be not apprehensive; you have no occasion. Whatever may be my fate, Iwill never be so treacherous as to betray my beloved Henrietta to _any_body. "

"May I ask you, madam, one question?"

"Certainly. "

"Why did all this never happen before?"

"Indeed, " cried Cecilia, much distressed, "I know not that it willhappen now. "

"Why what, dear madam, can hinder it?"

"A thousand, thousand things! nothing can be less secure. "

"And then I am still as much puzzled as ever. I heard, a good whileago, and we all heard that it was to be; and I thought that it was nowonder, I am sure, for I used often to think it was just what was mostlikely; but afterwards we heard it was no such thing, and from thatmoment I always believed there had been nothing at all in it. "

"I must speak to you, I find, with sincerity; my affairs have long beenin strange perplexity: I have not known myself what to expect; one dayhas perpetually reversed the prospect of another, and my mind has beenin a state of uncertainty and disorder, that has kept it--that stillkeeps it from comfort and from rest!"

"This surprises me indeed, madam! I thought _you_ were all happiness!but I was sure you deserved it, and I thought you had it for thatreward. And this has been the thing that has made me behave so wrong;for I took it into my head I might tell you every thing, because Iconcluded it could be nothing to you; for if great people loved oneanother, I always supposed they married directly; poor people, indeed, must stay till they are able to settle; but what in the whole world, thought I, if they like one another, should hinder such a rich lady asMiss Beverley from marrying such a rich gentleman at once?"

Cecilia now, finding there was no longer any chance for concealment, thought it better to give the poor Henrietta at least the gratificationof unreserved confidence, which might somewhat sooth her uneasiness byproving her reliance in her faith. She frankly, therefore, confessed toher the whole of her situation. Henrietta wept at the recital withbitterness, thought Mr Delvile a monster, and Mrs Delvile herselfscarce human; pitied Cecilia with unaffected tenderness, and wonderedthat the person could exist who had the heart to give grief to youngDelvile! She thanked her most gratefully for reposing such trust inher; and Cecilia made use of this opportunity, to enforce the necessityof her struggling more seriously to recover her indifferency. 

She promised she would not fail; and forbore steadily from that time toname Delvile any more: but the depression of her spirits shewed she hadsuffered a disappointment such as astonished even Cecilia. Thoughmodest and humble, she had conceived hopes the most romantic, andthough she denied, even to herself, any expectations from Delvile, sheinvoluntarily nourished them with the most sanguine simplicity. Tocompose and to strengthen her became the whole business of Cecilia;who, during her present suspense, could find no other employment inwhich she could take any interest. 

Mr Monckton, to whom nothing was unknown that related to Cecilia, wassoon informed of Delvile's visit, and hastened in the utmost alarm, tolearn its event. She had now lost all the pleasure she had formerlyderived from confiding in him, but though averse and confused, couldnot withstand his enquiries. 

Unlike the tender Henrietta's was his disappointment at this relation, and his rage at such repeated trials was almost more than he couldcurb. He spared neither the Delviles for their insolence of mutabilityin rejecting or seeking her at their pleasure, nor herself for hereasiness of submission in being thus the dupe of their caprices. Thesubject was difficult for Cecilia to dilate upon; she wished to clear, as he deserved, Delvile himself from any share in the censure, and shefelt hurt and offended at the charge of her own improper readiness; yetshame and pride united in preventing much vindication of either, andshe heard almost in silence what with pain she bore to hear at all. 

He now saw, with inexpressible disturbance, that whatever was his powerto make her uneasy, he had none to make her retract, and that theconditional promise she had given Delvile to be wholly governed by hismother, she was firm in regarding to be as sacred as one made at thealtar. 

Perceiving this, he dared trust his temper with no further debate; heassumed a momentary calmness for the purpose of taking leave of her, and with pretended good wishes for her happiness, whatever might be herdetermination, he stifled the reproaches with which his whole heart wasswelling, and precipitately left her. 

Cecilia, affected by his earnestness, yet perplexed in all heropinions, was glad to be relieved from useless exhortations, and notsorry, in her present uncertainty, that his visit was not repeated. 

She neither saw nor heard from Delvile for a week, and augured nothingbut evil from such delay. The following letter then came by the post. 

_To Miss Beverley. April 2d_, 1780

I must write without comments, for I dare not trust myself with makingany; I must write without any beginning address, for I know not how youwill permit me to address you. 

I have lived a life of tumult since last compelled to leave you, andwhen it may subside, I am still in utter ignorance. 

The affecting account of the losses you have suffered through yourbeneficence to the Harrels, and the explanatory one of the calumniesyou have sustained from your kindness to the Belfields, I related withthe plainness which alone I thought necessary to make them felt. I thentold the high honour I had received, in meeting with no other repulseto my proposal, than was owing to an inability to accede to it; andinformed my mother of the condescending powers with which you hadinvested her. In conclusion I mentioned my new scheme, and firmly, before I would listen to any opposition, I declared that though whollyto their decision I left the relinquishing my own name or your fortune, I was not only by your generosity more internally yours than ever, butthat since again I had ventured, and with permission to apply to you, Ishould hold myself hence forward unalterably engaged to you. 

And so I do, and so I shall! nor, after a renewal so public, will anyprohibition but yours have force to keep me from throwing myself atyour feet. 

My father's answer I will not mention; I would I could forget it! hisprejudices are irremediable, his resolutions are inflexible. Who orwhat has worked him into an animosity so irreclaimable, I cannotconjecture, nor will he tell; but something darkly mysterious has partin his wrath and his injustice. 

My mother was much affected by your reference to herself. Words of thesweetest praise broke repeatedly from her; no other such woman, shesaid, existed; no other such instance could be found of fidelity soexalted! her son must have no heart but for low and mercenaryselfishness, if, after a proof of regard so unexampled, he could bearto live without her! Oh how did such a sentence from lips so highlyreverenced, animate, delight, confirm, and oblige me at once!

The displeasure of my father at this declaration was dreadful; hischarges, always as improbable as injurious, now became too horrible formy ears; he disbelieved you had taken up the money for Harrel, hediscredited that you visited the Belfields for Henrietta: passion notmerely banished his justice, but, clouded his reason, and I soon leftthe room, that at least I might not hear the aspersions he forbid me toanswer. 

I left not, however, your fame to a weak champion: my mother defendedit with all the spirit of truth, and all the confidence of similarvirtue! yet they parted without conviction, and so mutually irritatedwith each other, that they agreed to meet no more. 

This was too terrible! and I instantly consolidated my resentment to myfather, and my gratitude to my mother, into concessions andsupplications to both; I could not, however, succeed; my mother wasdeeply offended, my father was sternly inexorable: nor here rests theevil of their dissention, for the violence of the conflict hasoccasioned a return more alarming than ever of the illness of mymother. 

All her faith in her recovery is now built upon going abroad; she isearnest to set off immediately; but Dr Lyster has advised her to makeLondon in her way, and have a consultation of physicians before shedeparts. 

To this she has agreed; and we are now upon the road thither. 

Such is, at present, the melancholy state of my affairs. My mother_advised_ me to write; forgive me, therefore, that I waited notsomething more decisive to say. I could prevail upon neither party tomeet before the journey; nor could I draw from my father the basefabricator of the calumnies by which he has been thus abused. 

Unhappily, I have nothing more to add: and whether intelligence, suchas this, or total suspense, would be least irksome, I know not. If mymother bears her journey tolerably well, I have yet one more effort tomake; and of that the success or the failure will be instantlycommunicated to Miss Beverley, by her eternally devoted, but halfdistracted. 

Mortimer Delvile. 

Scarcely could Cecilia herself decide whether this comfortless letteror none at all were preferable. The implacability of Mr Delvile wasshocking, but his slandering her character was still more intolerable;yet the praises of the mother, and her generous vindication, joined tothe invariable reliance of Delvile upon her innocence, conferred uponher an honour that offered some alleviation. 

The mention of a fabricator again brought Mr Monckton to her mind, andnot all her unwillingness to think him capable of such treachery, couldnow root out her suspicions. Delvile's temper, however, she knew wastoo impetuous to be trusted with this conjecture, and her fear ofcommitting injustice being thus seconded by prudence, she determined tokeep to herself doubts that could not without danger be divulged. 

She communicated briefly to Henrietta, who looked her earnestcuriosity, the continuance of her suspense; and to her own fateHenrietta became somewhat more reconciled, when she saw that no stationin life rendered happiness certain or permanent. 

CHAPTER x. 

A RELATION. 

Another week past still without any further intelligence. Cecilia wasthen summoned to the parlour, and to Delvile himself. 

He looked hurried and anxious; yet the glow of his face, and theanimation of his eyes, immediately declared he at least came not totake leave of her. 

"Can you forgive, " cried he, "the dismal and unsatisfactory letter Iwrote you? I would not disobey you twice in the same manner, and Icould not till now have written in any other. "

"The consultation with the physicians, then, " said Cecilia, "is over?"

"Alas, yes; and the result is most alarming; they all agree my motheris in a dangerous way, and they rather forbear to oppose, than adviseher going abroad: but upon that she is earnestly bent, and intends toset out without delay. I shall return to her, therefore, with allspeed, and mean not to take any rest till I have seen her. "

Cecilia expressed with tenderness her sorrow for Mrs Delvile: nor wereher looks illiberal in including her son in her concern. 

"I must hasten, " he cried, "to the credentials by which I am authorisedfor coming, and I must hasten to prove if Miss Beverley has notflattered my mother in her appeal. "

He then informed her that Mrs Delvile, apprehensive for herself, andsoftened for him by the confession of her danger, which she hadextorted from her physicians, had tenderly resolved upon making onefinal effort for his happiness, and ill and impatient as she was, upondeferring her journey to wait its effect. 

Generously, therefore, giving up her own resentment, she wrote to MrDelvile in terms of peace and kindness, lamenting their latedissention, and ardently expressing her desire to be reconciled to himbefore she left England. She told him the uncertainty of her recoverywhich had been acknowledged by her physicians, who had declared acalmer mind was more essential to her than a purer air. She then added, that such serenity was only to be given her, by the removal of heranxiety at the comfortless state of her son. She begged him, therefore, to make known the author of Miss Beverley's defamation, assuring him, that upon enquiry, he would find her character and her fame asunsullied as his own; and strongly representing, that after thesacrifice to which she had consented, their son would be utterlydishonourable in thinking of any other connexion. She then to thisreasoning joined the most earnest supplication, protesting, in herpresent disordered state, of health, her life might pay the forfeitureof her continual uneasiness. 

"I held out, " she concluded, "while his personal dignity, and thehonour of his name and family were endangered; but where interest aloneis concerned, and that interest is combated by the peace of his mind, and the delicacy of his word, my opposition is at an end. And thoughour extensive and well founded views for a splendid alliance areabolished, you will agree with me hereafter, upon a closer inspection, that the object for whom he relinquishes them, offers in herself thenoblest reparation. "

Cecilia felt gratified, humbled, animated and depressed at once by thisletter, of which Delvile brought her a copy. "And what, " cried she, "was the answer?"

"I cannot in decency, " he replied, "speak my opinion of it: read ityourself, --and let me hear yours. "

_To the Honourable Mrs Delvile_. 

Your extraordinary letter, madam, has extremely surprised me. I hadbeen willing to hope the affair over from the time my disapprobation ofit was formally announced. I am sorry you are so much indisposed, but Icannot conclude your health would be restored by my acceding to a planso derogatory to my house. I disapprove it upon every account, not onlyof the name and the fortune, but the lady herself. I have reasons moreimportant than those I assign, but they are such as I am bound inhonour not to mention. After such a declaration, nobody, I presume, will affront me by asking them. Her defence you have only from herself, her accusation I have received from authority less partial. I command, therefore, that my son, upon pain of my eternal displeasure, may neverspeak to me on the subject again, and I hope, madam, from you the samecomplaisance to my request. I cannot explain myself further, nor is itnecessary; it is no news, I flatter myself, to Mortimer Delvile or hismother, that I do nothing without reason, and I believe nothing uponslight grounds. 

A few cold compliments concerning her journey, and the re-establishment of her health, concluded the letter. 

Cecilia, having read, hastily returned it, and indignantly said, "Myopinion, Sir, upon this letter, must surely be yours; that we had donewiser, long since, to have spared your mother and ourselves, those vainand fruitless conflicts which we ought better to have foreseen wereliable to such a conclusion. Now, at least, let them be ended, and letus not pursue disgrace wilfully, after suffering from it with so muchrigour involuntarily. "

"O no, " cried Delvile, "rather let us now spurn it for ever! thoseconflicts must indeed be ended, but not by a separation still morebitter than all of them. "

He then told her, that his mother, highly offended to observe by theextreme coldness of this letter, the rancour he still nourished for thecontest preceding her leaving him, no longer now refused even herseparate consent, for a measure which she thought her son absolutelyengaged to take. 

"Good heaven!" cried Cecilia, much amazed, "this from Mrs Delvile!--aseparate consent?"--

"She has always maintained, " he answered, "an independent mind, alwaysjudged for herself, and refused all other arbitration: when soimpetuously she parted us, my father's will happened to be her's, andthence their concurrence: my father, of a temper immoveable and stern, retains stubbornly the prejudices which once have taken possession ofhim; my mother, generous as fiery, and noble as proud, is open toconviction, and no sooner convinced, than ingenuous in acknowledgingit: and thence their dissention. From my father I may hope forgiveness, but must never expect concession; from my mother I may hope all sheought to grant, for pardon but her vehemence, --and she has every greatquality that can dignify human nature!"

Cecilia, whose affection and reverence for Mrs Delvile were unfeigned, and who loved in her son this filial enthusiasm, readily concurred withhim in praising her, and sincerely esteemed her the first among women. 

"Now, then, " cried he, with earnestness, "now is the time when yourgenerous admiration of her is put to the test; see what she writes toyou;--she has left to me all explanation: but I insisted upon somecredential, lest you should believe I only owed her concurrence to ahappy dream. "

Cecilia in much trepidation took the letter, and hastily run it over. 

_To Miss Beverley_. 

Misery, my sweet young friend, has long been busy with us all; muchhave we owed to the clash of different interests, much to that rapacitywhich to enjoy any thing, demands every thing, and much to that generalperverseness which labours to place happiness in what is with-held. Thus do we struggle on till we can struggle no longer; the felicitywith which we trifle, at best is but temporary; and before reason andreflection shew its value, sickness and sorrow are commonly becomestationary. 

Be it yours, my love, and my son's, to profit by the experience, whileyou pity the errors, of the many who illustrate this truth. Your mutualpartiality has been mutually unfortunate, and must always continue sofor the interests of both: but how blind is it to wait, in our ownpeculiar lots, for that perfection of enjoyment we can all see wantingin the lot of others! My expectations for my son had "outstepped themodesty of" probability. I looked for rank and high birth, with thefortune of Cecilia, and Cecilia's rare character. Alas! a newconstellation in the heavens might as rationally have been looked for!

My extravagance, however, has been all for his felicity, dearer to methan life, --dearer to me than all things but his own honour! Let us butsave that, and then let wealth, ambition, interest, grandeur and pride, since they cannot constitute his happiness, be removed from destroyingit. I will no longer play the tyrant that, weighing good and evil by myown feelings and opinions, insists upon his acting by the notions Ihave formed, whatever misery they may bring him by opposing all hisown. 

I leave the kingdom with little reason to expect I shall return to it;I leave it--Oh blindness of vanity and passion!--from the effect ofthat violence with which so lately I opposed what now I am content toadvance! But the extraordinary resignation to which you have agreed, shews your heart so wholly my son's, and so even more than worthy thewhole possession of his, that it reflects upon him an honour morebright and more alluring, than any the most illustrious other alliancecould now confer. 

I would fain see you ere I go, lest I should see you no more; fainratify by word of mouth the consent that by word of mouth I soabsolutely refused! I know not how to come to Suffolk, --is it notpossible you can come to London? I am told you leave to me thearbitration of your fate, in giving you to my son, I best shew my senseof such an honour. 

Hasten then, my love, to town, that I may see you once more! wait nolonger a concurrence thus unjustly with-held, but hasten, that I maybless the daughter I have so often wished to own! that I may entreather forgiveness for all the pain I have occasioned her, and committingto her charge the future happiness of my son, fold to my maternal heartthe two objects most dear to it!

AUGUSTA DELVILE. 

Cecilia wept over this letter with tenderness, grief and alarm; butdeclared, had it even summoned her to follow her abroad, she could not, after reading it, have hesitated in complying. 

"O now, then, " cried Delvile, "let our long suspenses end! hear me withthe candour; my mother has already listened to me--be mine, my Cecilia, at once, --and force me not, by eternal scruples, to risk anotherseparation. "

"Good heaven, Sir!" cried Cecilia, starting, "in such a state as MrsDelvile thinks herself, would you have her journey delayed?"

"No, not a moment! I would but ensure you mine, and go with her allover the world!"

"Wild and impossible!--and what is to be done with Mr Delvile?"

"It is on his account wholly I am thus earnestly precipitate. If I donot by an immediate marriage prevent his further interference, all Ihave already suffered may again be repeated, and some fresh contestwith my mother may occasion another relapse. "

Cecilia, who now understood him, ardently protested she would notlisten for a moment to any clandestine expedient. 

He besought her to be patient; and then anxiously represented to hertheir peculiar situations. All application to his father he wasperemptorily forbid making, all efforts to remove his prejudices theirimpenetrable mystery prevented; a public marriage, therefore, with suchobstacles, would almost irritate him to phrenzy, by its daring defianceof his prohibition and authority. 

"Alas!" exclaimed Cecilia, "we can never do right but in parting!"

"Say it not, " cried he, "I conjure you! we shall yet live, I hope, toprove the contrary. " "And can you, then, " cried she, reproachfully, "OhMr Delvile! can you again urge me to enter your family in secret?"

"I grieve, indeed, " he answered, "that your goodness should so severelybe tried; yet did you not condescend to commit the arbitration to mymother?"

"True; and I thought her approbation would secure my peace of mind; buthow could I have expected Mrs Delvile's consent to such a scheme!"

"She has merely accorded it from a certainty there is no otherresource. Believe me, therefore, my whole hope rests upon your presentcompliance. My father, I am certain, by his letter, will now hearneither petition nor defence; on the contrary, he will only enrage atthe temerity of offering to confute him. But when he knows you are hisdaughter, his honour will then be concerned in yours, and it will be asmuch his desire to have it cleared, as it is now to have it censured. "

"Wait at least your return, and let us try what can be done with him. "

"Oh why, " cried Delvile, with much earnestness, "must I linger outmonth after month in this wretched uncertainty! If I wait I am undone!my father, by the orders I must unavoidably leave, will discover thepreparations making without his consent, and he will work upon you inmy absence, and compel you to give me up!"

"Are you sure, " said she, half smiling, "he would have so much power?"

"I am but too sure, that the least intimation, in his present irritablestate of mind, reaching him of my intentions, would make him notscruple, in his fury, pronouncing some malediction upon my disobediencethat _neither_ of us, I must own, could tranquilly disregard. "

This was an argument that came home to Cecilia, whose deliberation uponit, though silent, was evidently not unfavourable. 

He then told her that with respect to settlements, he would instantlyhave a bond drawn up, similar to that prepared for their formerintended union, which should be properly signed and sealed, and bywhich he would engage himself to make, upon coming to his estate, thesame settlement upon her that was made upon his mother. 

"And as, instead of keeping up three houses, " he continued, "in themanner my father does at present, I mean to put my whole estate _out tonurse_, while we reside for a while abroad, or in the country, I doubtnot but in a very few years we shall be as rich and as easy as we shalldesire. "

He told her, also, of his well-founded expectations from the Relationsalready mentioned; which the concurrence of his mother with hismarriage would thence forward secure to him. 

He then, with more coherence, stated his plan at large. He purposed, without losing a moment, to return to London; he conjured her, in thename of his mother, to set out herself early the next day, that thefollowing evening might be dedicated wholly to Mrs Delvile: through herintercession he might then hope Cecilia's compliance, and every thingon the morning after should be prepared for their union. The long-desired ceremony over, he would instantly ride post to his father, andpay him, at least, the respect of being the first to communicate it. Hewould then attend his mother to the Continent, and leave thearrangement of everything to his return. "Still, therefore, as a singleman, " he continued, "I mean to make the journey, and I shall take care, by the time I return, to have all things in readiness for claiming mysweet Bride. Tell me, then, now, if you can reasonably oppose thisplan?"

"Indeed, " said Cecilia, after some hesitation, "I cannot see thenecessity of such violent precipitancy. "

"Do you not try me too much, " cried Delvile, impatiently, "to talk nowof precipitancy! after such painful waiting, such wearisomeexpectation! I ask you not to involve your own affairs in confusion byaccompanying me abroad; sweet to me as would be such an indulgence, Iwould not make a run-away of you in the opinion of the world. All Iwish is the secret certainty I cannot be robbed of you, that no cruelmachinations may again work our separation, that you are mine, unalterably mine, beyond the power of caprice or ill fortune. "

Cecilia made no answer; tortured with irresolution, she knew not uponwhat to determine. 

"We might then, according to the favour or displeasure of my father, settle wholly abroad for the present, or occasionally visit him inEngland; my mother would be always and openly our friend--Oh be firm, then, I conjure you, to the promise you have given her, and deign to bemine on the conditions she prescribes. She will be bound to you forever by so generous a concession, and even her health may be restoredby the cessation of her anxieties. With such a wife, such a mother, what will be wanting for _me_! Could I lament not being richer, I mustbe rapacious indeed!--Speak, then, my Cecilia! relieve me from theagony of this eternal uncertainty, and tell me your word is invariableas your honour, and tell me my mother gives not her sanction in vain!"

Cecilia sighed deeply, but, after some hesitation, said, "I little knewwhat I had promised, nor know I now what to perform!--there must ever, I find, be some check to human happiness! yet, since upon these terms, Mrs Delvile herself is content to wish me of her family--"

She stopt; but, urged earnestly by Delvile, added "I must not, I think, withdraw the powers with which I entrusted her. "

Delvile, grateful and enchanted, now forgot his haste and his business, and lost every wish but to re-animate her spirits: she compelled him, however, to leave her, that his visit might less be wondered at, andsent by him a message to Mrs. Delvile, that, wholly relying upon herwisdom, she implicitly submitted to her decree. 

CHAPTER xi. 

AN ENTERPRISE. 

Cecilia now had no time for afterthoughts or anxious repentance, sincenotwithstanding the hurry of her spirits, and the confusion of hermind, she had too much real business, to yield to pensive indulgence. 

Averse to all falsehood, she invented none upon this occasion; shemerely told her guests she was summoned to London upon an affair ofimportance; and though she saw their curiosity, not being at liberty tosatisfy it with the truth, she attempted not to appease it by fiction, but quietly left it to its common fare, conjecture. She would gladlyhave made Henrietta the companion of her journey, but Henrietta was thelast to whom that journey could give pleasure. She only, therefore, took her maid in the chaise, and, attended by one servant on horseback, at six o'clock the next morning, she quitted her mansion, to enter intoan engagement by which soon she was to resign it for ever. 

Disinterested as she was, she considered her situation as peculiarlyperverse, that from the time of her coming to a fortune which mostothers regarded as enviable, she had been a stranger to peace, afruitless seeker of happiness, a dupe to the fraudulent, and a prey tothe needy! the little comfort she had received, had been merely fromdispensing it, and now only had she any chance of being happy herself, when upon the point of relinquishing what all others built theirhappiness upon obtaining!

These reflections only gave way to others still more disagreeable; shewas now a second time engaged in a transaction she could not approve, and suffering the whole peace of her future life to hang upon an actiondark, private and imprudent: an action by which the liberal kindness ofher late uncle would be annulled, by which the father of her intendedhusband would be disobeyed, and which already, in a similar instance, had brought her to affliction and disgrace. These melancholy thoughtshaunted her during the whole journey, and though the assurance of MrsDelvile's approbation was some relief to her uneasiness, sheinvoluntarily prepared herself for meeting new mortifications, and wastormented with an apprehension that this second attempt made her meritthem. 

She drove immediately, by the previous direction of Delvile, to alodging-house in Albemarle Street, which he had taken care to haveprepared for her reception. She then sent for a chair, and went to MrsDelvile's. Her being seen by the servants of that house was not veryimportant, as their master was soon to be acquainted with the realmotive of her journey. 

She was shewn into a parlour, while Mrs Delvile was informed of herarrival, and there flown to by Delvile with the most gratefuleagerness. Yet she saw in his countenance that all was not well, andheard upon enquiry that his mother was considerably worse. Extremelyshocked by this intelligence, she already began to lament herunfortunate enterprise. Delvile struggled, by exerting his own spirits, to restore hers, but forced gaiety is never exhilarating; and, full ofcare and anxiety, he was ill able to appear sprightly and easy. 

They were soon summoned upstairs into the apartment of Mrs Delvile, whowas lying upon a couch, pale, weak, and much altered. Delvile led theway, saying, "Here, madam, comes one whose sight will bring peace andpleasure to you!"

"This, indeed, " cried Mrs Delvile, half rising and embracing her, "isthe form in which they are most welcome to me! virtuous, noble Cecilia!what honour you do my son! with what joy, should I ever recover, shallI assist him in paying the gratitude he owes you!"

Cecilia, grieved at her situation, and affected by her kindness, couldonly answer with her tears; which, however, were not shed alone; forDelvile's eyes were full, as he passionately exclaimed, "This, this isthe sight my heart has thus long desired! the wife of my choice takento the bosom of the parent I revere! be yet but well, my belovedmother, and I will be thankful for every calamity that has led to sosweet a conclusion!"

"Content yourself, however, my son, with one of us, " cried Mrs Delvile, smiling; "and content yourself, if you can, though your hard lot shouldmake that one this creature of full bloom, health, and youth! Ah, mylove, " added she, more seriously, and addressing the still weepingCecilia, "should now Mortimer, in losing me, lose those cares by whichalone, for some months past, my life has been rendered tolerable, howpeaceably shall I resign him to one so able to recompense his filialpatience and services!"

This was not a speech to stop the tears of Cecilia, though such warmthof approbation quieted her conscientious scruples. Delvile nowearnestly interfered; he told her that his mother had been ordered notto talk or exert herself, and entreated her to be composed, and hismother to be silent. 

"Be it _your_ business, then, " said Mrs Delvile, more gaily, "to findus entertainment. We will promise to be very still if you will takethat trouble upon yourself. "

"I will not, " answered he, "be rallied from my purpose; if I cannotentertain, it will be something to weary you, for that may incline youto take rest, which will he answering a better purpose. "

"Mortimer, " returned she, "is this the ingenuity of duty or of love?and which are you just now thinking of, my health, or a conversationuninterrupted with Miss Beverley?"

"Perhaps a little of both!" said he, chearfully, though colouring. 

"But you rather meant it should pass, " said Mrs Delvile, "you werethinking only of me? I have always observed, that where one schemeanswers two purposes, the ostensive is never the purpose most atheart. "

"Why it is but common prudence, " answered Delvile, "to feel our way alittle before we mention what we most wish, and so cast the hazard ofthe refusal upon something rather less important. "

"Admirably settled!" cried Mrs Delvile: "so my rest is but to proveMiss Beverley's disturbance!--Well, it is only anticipating our futureway of life, when her disturbance, in taking the management of you toherself, will of course prove my rest. "

She then quietly reposed herself, and Delvile discoursed with Ceciliaupon their future plans, hopes and actions. 

He meant to set off from the church-door to Delvile Castle, to acquainthis father with his marriage, and then to return instantly to London:there he entreated Cecilia to stay with his mother, that, finding themboth together, he might not exhaust her patience, by making his partingvisit occasion another journey to Suffolk. 

But here Cecilia resolutely opposed him; saying, her only chance toescape discovery, was going instantly to her own house; andrepresenting so earnestly her desire that their marriage should beunknown till his return to England, upon a thousand motives ofdelicacy, propriety, and fearfulness, that the obligation he owedalready to a compliance which he saw grew more and more reluctant, restrained him both in gratitude and pity from persecuting her further. Neither would she consent to seeing him in Suffolk; which could butdelay his mother's journey, and expose her to unnecessary suspicions;she promised, however, to write to him often, and as, from his mother'sweakness, he must travel very slowly, she took a plan of his route, andengaged that he should find a letter from her at every great town. 

The bond which he had already had altered, he insisted upon leaving inher own custody, averse to applying to Mr Monckton, whose behaviour tohim had before given him disgust, and in whom Cecilia herself no longerwished to confide. He had again applied to the same lawyer, MrSingleton, to give her away; for though to his secrecy he had no tie, he had still less to any entire stranger. Mrs Delvile was too ill toattend them to church, nor would Delvile have desired from her suchabsolute defiance of his father. 

Cecilia now gave another sigh to her departed friend Mrs Charlton, whose presence upon this awful occasion would else again have soothedand supported her. She had no female friend in whom she could rely; butfeeling a repugnance invincible to being accompanied only by men, sheaccepted the attendance of Mrs Delvile's own woman, who had lived manyyears in the family, and was high in the favour and confidence of herlady. 

The arrangement of these and other articles, with occasionalinterruptions from Mrs Delvile, fully employed the evening. Delvilewould not trust again to meeting her at the church; but begged her tosend out her servants between seven and eight o'clock in the morning, at which time he would himself call for her with a chair. 

She went away early, that Mrs Delvile might go to rest, and it wasmutually agreed they should risk no meeting the next day. Delvileconjured them to part with firmness and chearfulness, and Cecilia, fearing her own emotion, would have retired without bidding her adieu. But Mrs Delvile, calling after her, said, "Take with you my blessing!"and tenderly embracing her, added, "My son, as my chief nurse, claims aprescriptive right to govern me, but I will break from his control totell my sweet Cecilia what ease and what delight she has already givento my mind! my best hope of recovery is founded on the pleasure Ianticipate to witnessing your mutual happiness: but should my illnessprove fatal, and that felicity be denied me, my greatest earthly careis already removed by the security I feel of Mortimer's future peace. Take with you, then, my blessing, for you are become one to me! longdaughter of my affection, now wife of my darling son! love her, Mortimer, as she merits, and cherish her with tenderest gratitude!--banish, sweetest Cecilia, every apprehension that oppresses you, andreceive in Mortimer Delvile a husband that will revere your virtues, and dignify your choice!"

She then embraced her again, and seeing that her heart was too full forspeech, suffered her to go without making any answer. Delvile attendedher to her chair, scarce less moved than herself, and found onlyopportunity to entreat her punctuality the next morning. 

She had, indeed, no inclination to fail in her appointment, or risk therepetition of scenes so affecting, or situations so alarming. MrsDelvile's full approbation somewhat restored to her her own, butnothing could remove the fearful anxiety, which still privatelytormented her with expectations of another disappointment. 

The next morning she arose with the light, and calling all her courageto her aid, determined to consider this day as decisive of her destinywith regard to Delvile, and, rejoicing that at least all suspense wouldbe over, to support herself with fortitude, be that destiny what itmight. 

At the appointed time she sent her maid to visit Mrs Hill, and gavesome errands to her man that carried him to a distant part of the town:but she charged them both to return to the lodgings by nine o'clock, atwhich hour she ordered a chaise for returning into the country. 

Delvile, who was impatiently watching for their quitting the house, only waited till they were out of sight, to present himself at thedoor. He was shewn into a parlour, where she instantly attended him;and being told that the clergyman, Mr Singleton, and Mrs Delvile'swoman, were already in the church, she gave him her hand in silence, and he led her to the chair. 

The calmness of stifled hope had now taken place in Cecilia of quicksensations and alarm. Occupied with a firm belief she should never bethe wife of Delvile, she only waited, with a desperate sort ofpatience, to see when and by whom she was next to be parted from him. 

When they arrived near the church, Delvile stopt the chair. He handedCecilia out of it, and discharging the chairmen, conducted her into thechurch. He was surprised himself at her composure, but earnestlywishing it to last, took care not to say to her a word that should makeany answer from her necessary. 

He gave her, as before, to Mr Singleton, secretly praying that not, asbefore, she might be given him in vain: Mrs Delvile's woman attendedher; the clergyman was ready, and they all proceeded to the altar. 

The ceremony was begun; Cecilia, rather mechanically than withconsciousness, appearing to listen to it but at the words, _If any mancan shew any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together_, Delvile himself shook with terror, lest some concealed person shouldagain answer it, and Cecilia, with a sort of steady dismay in hercountenance, cast her eyes round the church, with no other view thanthat of seeing from what comer the prohibiter would start. 

She looked, however, to no purpose; no prohibiter appeared, theceremony was performed without any interruption, and she received thethanks of Delvile, and the congratulations of the little set, beforethe idea which had so strongly pre-occupied her imagination, wassufficiently removed from it to satisfy her she was really married. 

They then went to the vestry, where their business was not long; andDelvile again put Cecilia into a chair, which again he accompanied onfoot. 

Her sensibility now soon returned, though still attended withstrangeness and a sensation of incredulity. But the sight of Delvile ather lodgings, contrary to their agreement, wholly recovered her sensesfrom the stupor which had dulled them. He came, however, but toacknowledge how highly she had obliged him, to see her himself restoredto the animation natural to her, character, and to give her a millionof charges, resulting from anxiety and tenderness. And then, fearingthe return of her servants, he quitted her, and set out for DelvileCastle. 

The amazement of Cecilia was still unconquerable; to be actually unitedwith Delvile! to be his with the full consent of his mother, --to havehim her's, beyond the power of his father, --she could not reconcile itwith possibility; she fancied it a dream, --but a dream from which shewished not to wake. 

BOOK X. 

CHAPTER i

A DISCOVERY. 

Cecilia's journey back to the country was as safe and free frominterruption as her journey had been to town, and all thatdistinguished them was what passed in her own mind: the doubts, apprehensions, and desponding suspense which had accompanied hersetting out, were now all removed, and certainty, ease, the expectationof happiness, and the cessation of all perplexity, had taken theirplace. She had nothing left to dread but the inflexibility of MrDelvile, and hardly any thing even to hope but the recovery of hislady. 

Her friends at her return expressed their wonder at her expedition, buttheir wonder at what occasioned it, though still greater, met nosatisfaction. Henrietta rejoiced in her sight, though her absence hadbeen so short; and Cecilia, whose affection with her pity increased, intimated to her the event for which she wished her to prepare herself, and frankly acknowledged she had reason to expect it would soon takeplace. 

Henrietta endeavoured with composure to receive this intelligence, andto return such a mark of confidence with chearful congratulations: buther fortitude was unequal to an effort so heroic, and her character wastoo simple to assume a greatness she felt not: she sighed and changedcolour; and hastily quitted the room that she might sob aloud inanother. 

Warm-hearted, tender, and susceptible, her affections were allundisguised: struck with the elegance of Delvile, and enchanted by hisservices to her brother, she had lost to him her heart at first withoutmissing it, and, when missed, without seeking to reclaim it. Thehopelessness of such a passion she never considered, nor asked herselfits end, or scarce suspected its aim; it was pleasant to her at thetime, and she looked not to the future, but fed it with visionaryschemes, and soothed it with voluntary fancies. Now she knew all wasover, she felt the folly she had committed, but though sensibly andcandidly angry at her own error, its conviction offered nothing butsorrow to succeed it. 

The felicity of Cecilia, whom she loved, admired and revered, shewished with the genuine ardour of zealous sincerity; but that Delvile, the very cause and sole subject of her own personal unhappiness, shouldhimself constitute that felicity, was too much for her spirits, andseemed to her mortified mind too cruel in her destiny. 

Cecilia, who in the very vehemence of her sorrow saw its innocence, wastoo just and too noble to be offended by it, or impute to the badpassions of envy or jealousy, the artless regret of an untutored mind. To be penetrated too deeply with the merit of Delvile, with her wantedno excuse, and she grieved for her situation with but little mixture ofblame, and none of surprise. She redoubled her kindness and caresseswith the hope of consoling her, but ventured to trust her no further, till reflection, and her natural good sense, should better enable herto bear an explanation. 

Nor was this friendly exertion any longer a hardship to her; the suddenremoval, in her own feelings and affairs, of distress and expectation, had now so much lightened her heart, that she could spare withoutrepining, some portion of its spirit to her dejected young friend. 

But an incident happened two mornings after which called back, and mostunpleasantly, her attention to herself. She was told that Mrs Matt, thepoor woman she had settled in Bury, begged an audience, and uponsending for her up stairs, and desiring to know what she could do forher, "Nothing, madam, just now, " she answered, "for I don't come uponmy own business, but to tell some news to you, madam. You bid me nevertake notice of the wedding, that was to be, and I'm sure I never openedmy mouth about it from that time to this; but I have found out who itwas put a stop to it, and so I come to tell you. "

Cecilia, extremely amazed, eagerly desired her to go on. 

"Why, madam, I don't know the gentlewoman's name quite right yet, but Ican tell you where she lives, for I knew her as soon as I set eyes onher, when I see her at church last Sunday, and I would have followedher home, but she went into a coach, and I could not walk fast enough;but I asked one of the footmen where she lived, and he said at thegreat house at the Grove: and perhaps, madam, you may know where thatis: and then he told me her name, but that I can't just now think of. "

"Good heaven!" cried Cecilia, --"it could not be Bennet?"

"Yes, ma'am, that's the very name; I know it again now I hear it. "

Cecilia then hastily dismissed her, first desiring her not to mentionthe circumstance to any body. 

Shocked and dismayed, she now saw, but saw with horror, the removal ofall her doubts, and the explanation of all her difficulties, in thefull and irrefragable discovery of the perfidy of her oldest friend andconfident. 

Miss Bennet herself she regarded in the affair as a mere tool, which, though in effect it did the work, was innocent of its mischief, becausepowerless but in the hand of its employer. 

"That employer, " cried she, "must be Mr Monckton! Mr Monckton whom solong I have known, who so willingly has been my counsellor, so ably myinstructor! in whose integrity I have confided, upon whose friendship Ihave relied! my succour in all emergencies, my guide in allperplexities!--Mr _Monckton_ thus dishonourably, thus barbarously tobetray me! to turn against me the very confidence I had reposed in hisregard for me! and make use of my own trust to furnish the means toinjure me!"--

She was now wholly confirmed that he had wronged her with Mr Delvile;she could not have two enemies so malignant without provocation, and hewho so unfeelingly could dissolve a union at the very altar, couldalone have the baseness to calumniate her so cruelly. 

Evil thoughts thus awakened, stopt not merely upon facts; conjecturecarried her further, and conjecture built upon probability. Theofficiousness of Morrice in pursuing her to London, his visiting herwhen there, and his following and watching Delvile, she now reasonablyconcluded were actions directed by Mr Monckton, whose house he had butjust left, and whose orders, whatever they might be, she was almostcertain he would obey. Availing himself, therefore, of the forwardnessand suppleness which met in this young man, she doubted not but hisintelligence had contributed to acquaint him with her proceedings. 

The motive of such deep concerted and accumulated treachery was next tobe sought: nor was the search long; one only could have tempted him toschemes so hazardous and costly; and, unsuspicious as she was, she nowsaw into his whole design. 

Long accustomed to regard him as a safe and disinterested old friend, the respect with which, as a child, she had looked up to him, she hadinsensibly preserved when a woman. That respect had taught her toconsider his notice as a favour, and far from suspiciously shunning, she had innocently courted it: and his readiness in advising andtutoring her, his frank and easy friendliness of behaviour, had kepthis influence unimpaired, by preventing its secret purpose from beingdetected. 

But now the whole mystery was revealed; his aversion to the Delviles, to which hitherto she had attributed all she disapproved in hisbehaviour, she was convinced must be inadequate to stimulate him tosuch lengths. That aversion itself was by this late surmise accountedfor, and no sooner did it occur to her, than a thousand circumstancesconfirmed it. 

The first among these was the evident ill will of Lady Margaret, whichthough she had constantly imputed to the general irascibility for whichher character was notorious, she had often wondered to findimpenetrable to all endeavours to please or soften her. His care of herfortune, his exhortations against her expences, his wish to make herlive with Mr Briggs, all contributed to point out the selfishness ofhis attentions, which in one instance rendered visible, became obviousin every other. 

Yet various as were the incidents that now poured upon her memory tohis disgrace, not one among them took its rise from his behaviour toherself, which always had been scrupulously circumspect, or if for amoment unguarded, only at a season when her own distress or confusionhad prevented her from perceiving it. This recollection almoststaggered her suspicions; yet so absolute seemed the confirmation theyreceived from every other, that her doubt was overpowered, and soonwholly extinguished. 

She was yet ruminating on this subject, when, word was brought her thatMr Monckton was in the parlour. 

Mingled disgust and indignation made her shudder at his name, andwithout pausing a moment, she sent him word she was engaged, and couldnot possibly leave her room. 

Astonished by such a dismission, he left the house in the utmostconfusion. But Cecilia could not endure to see him, after a discoveryof such hypocrisy and villainy. 

She considered, however, that the matter could not rest here: he woulddemand an explanation, and perhaps, by his unparalleled address, againcontrive to seem innocent, notwithstanding appearances were at presentso much against him. Expecting, therefore, some artifice, anddetermined not to be duped by it, she sent again for the Pew-opener, toexamine her more strictly. 

The woman was out at work in a private family, and could not come tillthe evening: but, when further questioned, the description she gave ofMiss Bennet was too exact to be disputed. 

She then desired her to call again the next morning and sent a servantto the Grove, with her compliments to Miss Bennet, and a request thatshe might send her carriage for her the next day, at any time shepleased, as she wished much to speak with her. 

This message, she was aware, might create some suspicion, and put herupon her guard; but she thought, nevertheless, a sudden meeting withthe Pew-opener, whom she meant abruptly to confront with her, wouldbaffle the security of any previously settled scheme. 

To a conviction such as this even Mr Monckton must submit, and since hewas lost to her as a friend, she might at least save herself the painof keeping up his acquaintance. 

CHAPTER ii. 

AN INTERVIEW. 

The servant did not return till it was dark; and then, with a look ofmuch dismay, said he had been able to meet with nobody who could eithergive or take a message; that the Grove was all in confusion, and thewhole country in an uproar, for Mr Monckton, just as he arrived, hadbeen brought home dead!

Cecilia screamed with involuntary horror; a pang like remorse seizedher mind, with the apprehension she had some share in this catastrophe, and innocent as she was either of his fall or his crimes, she no soonerheard he was no more, than she forgot he had offended her, andreproached herself with severity for the shame to which she meant toexpose him the next morning. 

Dreadfully disturbed by this horrible incident, she entreated MrsHarrel and Henrietta to sup by themselves, and going into her own room, determined to write the whole affair to Delvile, in a letter she shoulddirect to be left at the post-office for him at Margate. 

And here strongly she felt the happiness of being actually his wife;she could now without reserve make him acquainted with all her affairs, and tell to the master of her heart every emotion that entered it. 

While engaged in this office, the very action of which quieted her, aletter was brought her from Delvile himself. She received it withgratitude and opened it with joy; he had promised to write soon, but sosoon she had thought impossible. 

The reading took not much time; the letter contained but the followingwords:

_To Miss Beverley_. 

MY CECILIA!--Be alone, I conjure you; dismiss every body, and admit methis moment!

Great was her astonishment at this note! no name to it, no conclusion, the characters indistinct, the writing crooked, the words so few, andthose few scarce legible!

He desired to see her, and to see her alone; she could not hesitate inher compliance, --but whom could she dismiss?--her servants, if orderedaway, would but be curiously upon the watch, --she could think of noexpedient, she was all hurry and amazement. 

She asked if any one waited for an answer? The footman said no; thatthe note was given in by somebody who did not speak, and who ran out ofsight the moment he had delivered it. 

She could not doubt this was Delvile himself, --Delvile who should nowbe just returned from the castle to his mother, and whom she hadthought not even a letter would reach if directed any where nearer thanMargate!

All she could devise in obedience to him, was to go and wait for himalone in her dressing-room, giving orders that if any one called theymight be immediately brought up to her, as she expected somebody uponbusiness, with whom she must not be interrupted. 

This was extremely disagreeable to her; yet, contrary as it was totheir agreement, she felt no inclination to reproach Delvile; theabruptness of his note, the evident hand-shaking with which it had beenwritten, the strangeness of the request in a situation such as theirs, --all concurred to assure her he came not to her idly, and all led herto apprehend he came to her with evil tidings. 

What they might be, she had no time to conjecture; a servant, in a fewminutes, opened the dressing-room door, and said, "Ma'am, a gentleman;"and Delvile, abruptly entering, shut it himself, in his eagerness toget rid of him. 

At his sight, her prognostication of ill became stronger! she wentforward to meet him, and he advanced to her smiling and in haste; butthat smile did not well do its office; it concealed not a pallidcountenance, in which every feature spoke horror; it disguised not anaching heart, which almost visibly throbbed with intolerable emotion!Yet he addressed her in terms of tenderness and peace; but histremulous voice counteracted his words, and spoke that all within wastumult and war!

Cecilia, amazed, affrighted, had no power to hasten an explanation, which, on his own part, he seemed unable, or fearful to begin. Hetalked to her of his happiness in again seeing her before he left thekingdom, entreated her to write to him continually, said the same thingtwo and three times in a breath, began with one subject, and seemedunconscious he wandered presently into another, and asked her questionsinnumerable about her health, journey, affairs, and ease of mind, without hearing from her any answer, or seeming to miss that she hadnone. 

Cecilia grew dreadfully terrified; something strange and most alarmingshe was sure must have happened, but _what_, she had no means to know, nor courage, nor even words to enquire. 

Delvile, at length, the first hurry of his spirits abating, became morecoherent and considerate: and looking anxiously at her, said, "Why thissilence, my Cecilia?"

"I know not!" said she, endeavouring to recover herself, "but yourcoming was unexpected: I was just writing to you at Margate. "

"Write still, then; but direct to Ostend; I shall be quicker than thepost; and I would not lose a letter--a line--a word from you, for allthe world can offer me!"

"Quicker than the post?" cried Cecilia; "but how can Mrs Delvile--" shestopt; not knowing what she might venture to ask. 

"She is now on the road to Margate; I hope to be there to receive her. I mean but to bid you adieu, and be gone. "

Cecilia made no answer; she was more and more astonished, more and moreconfounded. 

"You are thoughtful?" said he, with tenderness; "are you unhappy?--sweetest Cecilia! most excellent of human creatures! if I have made youunhappy--and I must!--it is inevitable!--"

"Oh Delvile!" cried she, now assuming more courage, "why will you notspeak to me openly?--something, I see, is wrong; may I not hear it? mayI not tell you, at least, my concern that any thing has distressedyou?"

"You are too good!" cried he; "to deserve you is not possible, but toafflict you is inhuman!" "Why so?" cried she, more chearfully; "must Inot share the common lot? or expect the whole world to be new modelled, lest I should meet in it any thing but happiness?"

"There is not, indeed, much danger! Have you pen and ink here?"

She brought them to him immediately, with paper. 

You have been writing to me, you say?--I will begin a letter myself. "

"To me?" cried she. 

He made no answer, but took up the pen, and wrote a few words, andthen, flinging it down, said, "Fool!--I could have done this withoutcoming!"

"May I look at it?" said she; and, finding he made no opposition, advanced and read. 

_I fear to alarm you by rash precipitation, --I fear to alarm you bylingering suspense, --but all is not well--_

"Fear nothing!" cried she, turning to him with the kindest earnestness;"tell me, whatever it may be!--Am I not your wife? bound by every tiedivine and human to share in all your sorrows, if, unhappily, I cannotmitigate them!"

"Since you allow me, " cried he, gratefully, "so sweet a claim, a claimto which all others yield, and which if you repent not giving me, willmake all others nearly immaterial to me, --I will own to you that all, indeed, is not well! I have been hasty, --you will blame me; I deserve, indeed, to be blamed!--entrusted with your peace and happiness, tosuffer rage, resentment, violence, to make me forego what I owed tosuch a deposite!--If your blame, however, stops short of repentance--but it cannot!"

"What, then, " cried she with warmth, "must you have done? for there isnot an action of which I believe you capable, there is not an eventwhich I believe to be possible, that can ever make me repent belongingto you wholly!"

"Generous, condescending Cecilia!" cried he; "Words such as these, hungthere not upon me an evil the most depressing, would be almost morethan I could bear--would make me too blest for mortality!"

"But words such as these, " said she more gaily, "I might long havecoquetted ere I had spoken, had you not drawn them from me by thisalarm. Take, therefore, the good with the ill, and remember, if alldoes not go right, you have now a trusty friend, as willing to be thepartner of your serious as your happiest hours. "

"Shew but as much firmness as you have shewn sweetness, " cried he, "andI will fear to tell you nothing. "

She reiterated her assurances; they then both sat down, and he beganhis account. 

"Immediately from your lodgings I went where I had ordered a chaise, and stopped only to change horses till I reached Delvile Castle. Myfather saw me with surprise, and received me with coldness. I wascompelled by my situation to be abrupt, and told him I came, before Iaccompanied my mother abroad, to make him acquainted with an affairwhich I thought myself bound in duty and respect to suffer no one tocommunicate to him but myself. He then sternly interrupted me, anddeclared in high terms, that if this affair concerned _you_, he wouldnot listen to it. I attempted to remonstrate upon this injustice, whenhe passionately broke forth into new and horrible charges against you, affirming that he had them from authority as indisputable as oculardemonstration. I was then certain of some foul play. "--

"Foul play indeed!" cried Cecilia, who now knew but too well by whomshe had been injured. "Good heaven, how have I been deceived, wheremost I have trusted!"

"I told him, " continued Delvile, "some gross imposition had beenpracticed upon him, and earnestly conjured him no longer to concealfrom me by whom. This, unfortunately, encreased his rage; imposition, he said, was not so easily played upon him, he left that for _me_ whoso readily was duped; while for himself, he had only given credit to aman of much consideration in Suffolk, who had known you from a child, who had solemnly assured him he had repeatedly endeavoured to reclaimyou, who had rescued you from the hands of Jews at his own hazard andloss, and who actually shewed him bonds acknowledging immense debts, which were signed with your own hand. "

"Horrible!" exclaimed Cecilia, "I believed not such guilt and perfidypossible!"

"I was scarce myself, " resumed Delvile, "while I heard him: I demandedeven with fierceness his author, whom I scrupled not to execrate as hedeserved; he coldly answered he was bound by an oath never to revealhim, nor should he repay his honourable attention to his family by abreach of his own word, were it even less formally engaged. I then lostall patience; to mention honour, I cried, was a farce, where suchinfamous calumnies were listened to;--but let me not shock youunnecessarily, you may readily conjecture what passed. "

"Ah me!" cried Cecilia, "you have then quarrelled with your father!"

"I have!" said he; "nor does he yet know I am married: in so much wraththere was no room for narration; I only pledged myself by all I heldsacred, never to rest till I had cleared your fame, by the detection ofthis villainy, and then left him without further explanation. "

"Oh return, then, to him directly!" cried Cecilia, "he is your father, you are bound to bear with his displeasure;--alas! had you never knownme, you had never incurred it!"

"Believe me, " he answered, "I am ill at ease under it: if you wish it, when you have heard me, I will go to him immediately; if not, I willwrite, and you shall yourself dictate what. "

Cecilia thanked him, and begged he would continue his account. 

"My first step, when I left the Castle, was to send a letter to mymother, in which I entreated her to set out as soon as possible forMargate, as I was detained from her unavoidably, and was unwilling mydelay should either retard our journey, or oblige her to travel faster. At Margate I hoped to be as soon as herself, if not before her. "

"And why, " cried Cecilia, "did you not go to town as you had promised, and accompany her?"

"I had business another way. I came hither. "

"Directly?"

"No; but soon. "

"Where did you go first?"

"My Cecilia, it is now you must summon your fortitude: I left my fatherwithout an explanation on my part;--but not till, in his rage ofasserting his authority, he had unwarily named his informant. "

"Well!"

"That informant--the most deceitful of men!--was your long pretendedfriend, Mr Monckton!"

"So I feared!" said Cecilia, whose blood now ran cold through her veinswith sudden and new apprehensions. 

"I rode to the Grove, on hack-horses, and on a full gallop the wholeway. I got to him early in the evening. I was shewn into his library. Itold him my errand. --You look pale, my love? You are not well?--"

Cecilia, too sick for speech, leant her head upon a table. Delvile wasgoing to call for help; but she put her hand upon his arm to stop him, and, perceiving she was only mentally affected, he rested, andendeavoured by every possible means to revive her. 

After a while, she again raised her head, faintly saying, "I am sorry Iinterrupted you; but the conclusion I already know, --Mr Monckton isdead!"

"Not dead, " cried he; "dangerously, indeed, wounded, but thank heaven, not actually dead!"

"Not dead?" cried Cecilia, with recruited strength and spirits, "Ohthen all yet may be well!--if he is not dead; he may recover!"

"He may; I hope he will!"

"Now, then, " she cried, "tell me all: I can bear any intelligence butof death by human means. "

"I meant not to have gone such lengths; far from it; I hold duels inabhorrence, as unjustifiable acts of violence, and savage devices ofrevenge. I have offended against my own conviction, --but, transportedwith passion at his infamous charges, I was not master of my reason; Iaccused hum of his perfidy; he denied it; I told him I had it from myfather, --he changed the subject to pour abuse upon him; I insisted on arecantation to clear you; he asked by what right? I fiercely answered;by a husband's! His countenance, then, explained at least the motivesof his treachery, --he loves you himself! he had probably schemed tokeep you free till his wife died, and then concluded his machinationswould secure you his own. For this purpose, finding he was in danger oflosing you, he was content even to blast your character, rather thansuffer you to escape him! But the moment I acknowledged my marriage hegrew more furious than myself; and, in short-for why relate thefrenzies of rage? we walked out together; my travelling pistols werealready charged; I gave him his choice of them, and, the challengebeing mine, for insolence joined with guilt had robbed me of allforbearance, he fired first, but missed me: I then demanded whether hewould clear your fame? he called out 'Fire! I will make no terms, '--Idid fire, --and unfortunately aimed better! We had neither of us anysecond, all was the result of immediate passion; but I soon got peopleto him, and assisted in conveying him home. He was at, first believedto be dead, and I was seized by his servants; but he afterwards shewedsigns of life, and by sending for my friend Biddulph, I was released. Such is the melancholy transaction I came to relate to you, flatteringmyself it would something less shock you from me than from another: yetmy own real concern for the affair, the repentance with which from themoment the wretch fell, I was struck in being his destroyer, and thesorrow, the remorse, rather, which I felt, in coming to wound you withsuch black, such fearful intelligence, --you to whom all I owe is peaceand comfort!--these thoughts gave me so much disturbance, that, infact, I knew less than any other how to prepare you for such a tale. "

He stopt; but Cecilia could say nothing: to censure him now would bothbe cruel and vain; yet to pretend she was satisfied with his conduct, would be doing violence to her judgment and veracity. She saw, too, that his error had sprung wholly from a generous ardor in her defence, and that his confidence in her character, had resisted, withoutwavering, every attack that menaced it. For this she felt trulygrateful; yet his quarrel with his father, --the danger of his mother, --his necessary absence, --her own clandestine situation, --and more thanall, the threatened death of Mr Monckton by his hands, werecircumstances so full of dread and sadness, she knew not upon which tospeak, --how to offer him comfort, --how to assume a countenance thatlooked able to receive any, or by what means to repress the emotionswhich to many ways assailed her. Delvile, having vainly waited somereply, then in a tone the most melancholy, said, "If it is yet possibleyou can be sufficiently interested in my fate to care what becomes ofme, aid me now with your counsel, or rather with your instructions; Iam scarce able to think for myself, and to be thought for by you, wouldyet be a consolation that would give me spirit for any thing. "

Cecilia, starting from her reverie, repeated, "To care what becomes ofyou-? Oh Delvile!--make not my heart bleed by words of suchunkindness!"

"Forgive me, " cried he, "I meant not a reproach; I meant but to statemy own consciousness how little I deserve from you. You talked to me ofgoing to my father? do you still wish it?"

"I think so!" cried she; too much disturbed to know what she said, yetfearing again to hurt him by making him wait her answer. 

"I will go then, " said he, "without doubt: too happy to be guided byyou, which-ever way I steer. I have now, indeed much to tell him; butwhatever may be his wrath, there is little fear, at this time, that myown temper cannot bear it! what next shall I do?"

"What next?" repeated she; "indeed I know not!"

"Shall I go immediately to Margate? or shall I first ride hither?"

"If you please, " said she, much perturbed, and deeply sighing. 

"I please nothing but by your direction, to follow that is my onlychance of pleasure. Which, then, shall I do?-you will not, now, refuseto direct me?"

"No, certainly, not for the world!"

"Speak to me, then, my love, and tell me;--why are you thus silent?--is it painful to you to counsel me?"

"No, indeed!" said she, putting her hand to her head, "I will speak toyou in a few minutes. "

"Oh my Cecilia!" cried he, looking at her with much alarm, "call backyour recollection! you know not what you say, you take no interest inwhat you answer. "

"Indeed I do!" said she, sighing deeply, and oppressed beyond the powerof thinking, beyond any power but an internal consciousness ofwretchedness. 

"Sigh not so bitterly, " cried he, "if you have any compassion! sigh notso bitterly, --I cannot bear to hear you!"

"I am very sorry indeed!" said she, sighing again, and not seemingsensible she spoke. 

"Good Heaven!" cried he, rising, "distract me not with this horror!--speak not to me in such broken sentences!--Do you hear me, Cecilia?--why will you not answer me?"

She started and trembled, looked pale and affrighted, and putting bothher hands upon her heart, said, "Oh yes!--but I have an oppressionhere, --a tightness, a fulness, --I have not room for breath!"

"Oh beloved of my heart!" cried he, wildly casting himself at her feet, "kill me not with this terror!--call back your faculties, --awake fromthis dreadful insensibility! tell me at least you know me!--tell me Ihave not tortured you quite to madness!--sole darling of my affections!my own, my wedded Cecilia!--rescue me from this agony! it is more thanI can support!"---

This energy of distress brought back her scattered senses, scarce morestunned by the shock of all this misery, than by the restraint of herfeelings in struggling to conceal it. But these passionate exclamationsrestoring her sensibility, she burst into tears, which happily relievedher mind from the conflict with which it was labouring, and which, notthus effected, might have ended more fatally. 

Never had Delvile more rejoiced in her smiles than now in theseseasonable tears, which he regarded and blest as the preservers of herreason. They flowed long without any intermission, his soothing andtenderness but melting her to more sorrow: after a while, however, thereturn of her faculties, which at first seemed all consigned over togrief, was manifested by the returning strength of her mind: she blamedherself severely for the little fortitude she had shewn, but having nowgiven vent to emotions too forcible to be wholly stiffed, she assuredhim he might depend upon her' better courage for the future, andentreated him to consider and settle his affairs. 

Not speedily, however, could Delvile himself recover. The torture hehad suffered in believing, though only for a few moments, that theterror he had given to Cecilia had affected her intellects, made even adeeper impression upon his imagination, than the scene of fury anddeath, which had occasioned that terror: and Cecilia, who now strainedevery nerve to repair by her firmness, the pain which by her weaknessshe had given him, was sooner in a condition for reasoning anddeliberation than himself. 

"Ah Delvile!" she cried, comprehending what passed within him, "do youallow nothing for surprize? and nothing for the hard conflict ofendeavouring to suppress it? do you think me still as unfit to advisewith, and as worthless, as feeble a counsellor, as during the firstconfusion of my mind?"

"Hurry not your tender spirits, I beseech you, " cried he, "we have timeenough; we will talk about business by and by. "

"What time?" cried she, "what is it now o'clock?"

"Good Heaven!" cried he, looking at his watch, "already past ten! youmust turn me out, my Cecilia, or calumny will still be busy, eventhough poor Monckton is quiet. "

"I _will_ turn you out, " cried she, "I am indeed most earnest to haveyou gone. But tell me your plan, and which way you mean to go?"

"That;" he answered, "you shall decide for me yourself: whether toDelvile Castle, to finish one tale, and wholly communicate another, orto Margate, to hasten my mother abroad, before the news of thiscalamity reaches her. "

"Go to Margate, " cried she, eagerly, "set off this very moment! you canwrite to your father from Ostend. But continue, I conjure you, on thecontinent, till we see if this unhappy man lives, and enquire, of thosewho can judge, what must follow if he should not!"

"A trial, " said he, "must follow, and it will go, I fear, but hardlywith me! the challenge was mine; his servants can all witness I went tohim, not he to me, --Oh my Cecilia! the rashness of which I have beenguilty, is so opposite to my principles, and, all generous as is yoursilence, I know it so opposite to yours, that never, should his bloodbe on my hands, wretch as he was, never will my heart be quiet more. "

"He will live, he will live!" cried Cecilia, repressing her horror, "fear nothing, for he will live;--and as to his wound and hissufferings, his perfidy has deserved them. Go, then, to Margate; thinkonly of Mrs Delvile, and save her, if possible, from hearing what hashappened. "

"I will go, --stay, --do which and whatever you bid me: but, should whatI fear come to pass, should my mother continue ill, my fatherinflexible, should this wretched man die, and should England no longerbe a country I shall love to dwell in, --could you, then, bear to own, --would you, then, consent to follow me?"

"Could I?--am I not yours? may you not command me? tell me, then, youhave only to say, --shall I accompany you at once?"

Delvile, affected by her generosity, could scarce utter his thanks; yethe did not hesitate in denying to avail himself of it; "No, myCecilia, " he cried, "I am not so selfish. If we have not happier days, we will at least wait for more desperate necessity. With theuncertainty if I have not this man's life to answer for at the hazardof my own, to take my wife--my bride, --from the kingdom I must fly!--to make her a fugitive and an exile in the first publishing that she ismine! No, if I am not a destined alien for life I can never permit it. Nothing less, believe me, shall ever urge my consent to wound thechaste propriety of your character, by making you an eloper with aduelist. "

They then again consulted upon their future plans; and concluded thatin the present disordered state of their affairs, it would be best notto acknowledge even to Mr Delvile their marriage, to whom the news ofthe duel, and Mr Monckton's danger, would be a blow so severe, that, toadd to it any other might half distract him. 

To the few people already acquainted with it, Delvile thereforedetermined to write from Ostend, re-urging his entreaties for theirdiscretion and secrecy. Cecilia promised every post to acquaint him howMr Monckton went on, and she then besought him to go instantly, that hemight out-travel the ill news to his mother. 

He complied, and took leave of her in the tenderest manner, conjuringher to support her spirits, and be careful of her health. "Happiness, "said he, "is much in arrears with us, and though my violence may havefrightened it away, your sweetness and gentleness will yet attract itback: all that for me is in store must be received at your hands, --what is offered in any other way, I shall only mistake for evil! droopnot, therefore, my generous Cecilia, but in yourself preserve me!"

"I will not droop, " said she; "you will find, I hope, you have notintrusted yourself in ill hands. "

"Peace then be with you, my love!--my comforting, my soul-revivingCecilia! Peace, such as angels give, and such as may drive from yourmind the remembrance of this bitter hour!"

He then tore himself away. 

Cecilia, who to his blessings could almost, like the tender Belvidera, have exclaimed

 O do not leave me!--stay with me and curse me!

listened to his steps till she could hear them no longer, as if theremaining moments of her life were to be measured by them: but then, remembering the danger both to herself and him of his stay, sheendeavoured to rejoice that he was gone, and, but that her mind was inno state for joy, was too rational not to have succeeded. 

Grief and horror for what was past, apprehension and suspense for whatwas to come, so disordered her whole frame, so confused even herintellects, that when not all the assistance of fancy could persuadeher she still heard the footsteps of Delvile, she went to the chairupon which he had been seated, and taking possession of it, sat withher arms crossed, silent, quiet, and erect, almost vacant of allthought, yet with a secret idea she was doing something right. 

Here she continued till Henrietta came to wish her good night; whosesurprise and concern at the strangeness of her look and attitude, oncemore recovered her. But terrified herself at this threatened wanderingof her reason, and certain she must all night be a stranger to rest, she accepted the affectionate offer of the kind-hearted girl to staywith her, who was too much grieved for her grief to sleep any more thanherself. 

She told her not what had passed; that, she knew, would be fruitlessaffliction to her: but she was soothed by her gentleness, and herconversation was some security from the dangerous rambling of herideas. 

Henrietta herself found no little consolation in her own privatesorrows, that she was able to give comfort to her beloved MissBeverley, from whom she had received favours and kind officesinnumerable. She quitted her not night nor day, and in the honest prideof a little power to skew the gratefulness of her heart, she felt apleasure and self-consequence she had never before experienced. 

CHAPTER iii. 

A SUMMONS. 

Cecilia's earliest care, almost at break of day, was to send to theGrove; from thence she heard nothing but evil; Mr Monckton was stillalive, but with little or no hope of recovery, constantly delirious, and talking of Miss Beverley, and of her being married to youngDelvile. 

Cecilia, who knew well this, at least, was no delirium, though shockedthat he talked of it, hoped his danger less than was apprehended. 

The next day, however, more fatal news was brought her, though not fromthe quarter she expected it: Mr Monckton, in one of his raving fits, had sent for Lady Margaret to his bed side, and used her almostinhumanly: he had railed at her age and her infirmities with incrediblefury, called her the cause of all his sufferings, and accused her asthe immediate agent of Lucifer in his present wound and danger. LadyMargaret, whom neither jealousy nor malignity had cured of loving him, was dismayed and affrighted; and in hurrying out of the room upon hisattempting, in his frenzy, to strike her, she dropt down dead in anapoplectic fit. 

"Good Heaven!" thought Cecilia, "what an exemplary punishment has thisman! he loses his hated wife at the very moment when her death could nolonger answer his purposes! Poor Lady Margaret! her life has been asbitter as her temper! married from a view of interest, ill used as abar to happiness, and destroyed from the fruitless ravings of despair!"

She wrote all this intelligence to Ostend, whence she received a letterfrom Delvile, acquainting her he was detained from proceeding furtherby the weakness and illness of his mother, whose sufferings fromseasickness had almost put an end to her existence. 

Thus passed a miserable week; Monckton still merely alive, Delviledetained at Ostend, and Cecilia tortured alike by what was recentlypassed, actually present, and fearfully expected; when one morning shewas told a gentleman upon business desired immediately to speak withher. 

She hastily obeyed the summons; the constant image of her own mind, Delvile, being already present to her, and a thousand wild conjecturesupon what had brought him back, rapidly occurring to her. 

Her expectations, however, were ill answered, for she found an entirestranger; an elderly man, of no pleasant aspect or manners. 

She desired to know his business. 

"I presume, madam, you are the lady of this house?"

She bowed an assent. 

"May I take the liberty, madam, to ask your name?'

"My name, sir?"

"You will do me a favour, madam, by telling it me. "

"Is it possible you are come hither without already knowing it?"

"I know it only by common report, madam. "

"Common report, sir, I believe is seldom wrong in a matter where to beright is so easy. "

"Have you any objection, madam, to telling me your name?"

"No, sir; but your business can hardly be very important, if you areyet to learn whom you are to address. It will be time enough, therefore, for us to meet when you are elsewhere satisfied in thispoint. "

She would then have left the room. 

"I beg, madam, " cried the stranger, "you will have patience; it isnecessary, before I can open my business, that I should hear your namefrom yourself. "

"Well, sir, " cried she with some hesitation, "you can scarce have cometo this house, without knowing that its owner is Cecilia Beverley. "

"That, madam, is your maiden name. "

"My maiden name?" cried she, starting. 

"Are you not married, madam?"

"Married, sir?" she repeated, while her cheeks were the colour ofscarlet. 

"It is, properly, therefore, madam, the name of your husband that Imean to ask. "

"And by what authority, sir, " cried she, equally astonished andoffended, "do you make these extraordinary enquiries?"

"I am deputed, madam, to wait upon you by Mr Eggleston, the next heirto this estate, by your uncle's will, if you die without children, orchange your name when you marry. His authority of enquiry, madam, Ipresume you will allow, and he has vested it in me by a letter ofattorney. "

Cecilia's distress and confusion were now unspeakable; she knew notwhat to own or deny, she could not conjecture how she had beenbetrayed, and she had never made the smallest preparation against suchan attack. 

"Mr Eggleston, madam, " he continued, "has been pretty credibly informedthat you are actually married: he is very desirous, therefore, to knowwhat are your intentions, for your continuing to be called _Miss_Beverley, as if still single, leaves him quite in the dark: but, as heis so deeply concerned in the affair, he expects, as a lady of honour, you will deal with him without prevarication. "

"This demand, sir, " said Cecilia, stammering, "is so extremely--so--solittle expected--"

"The way, madam, in these cases, is to keep pretty closely to thepoint; are you married or are you not?"

Cecilia, quite confounded, made no answer: to disavow her marriage, when thus formally called upon, was every way unjustifiable; toacknowledge it in her present situation, would involve her indifficulties innumerable. 

"This is not, madam, a slight thing; Mr Eggleston has a large familyand a small fortune, and that, into the bargain, very much encumbered;it cannot, therefore, be expected that he will knowingly connive atcheating himself, by submitting to your being actually married, andstill enjoying your estate though your husband does not take yourname. "

Cecilia, now, summoning more presence of mind, answered, "Mr Eggleston, sir, has, at least, nothing to fear from imposition: those with whom hehas, or may have any transactions in this affair, are not accustomed topractice it. "

"I am far from meaning any offence, madam; my commission from MrEggleston is simply this, to beg you will satisfy him upon what groundsyou now evade the will of your late uncle, which, till cleared up, appears a point manifestly to his prejudice. "

"Tell him, then, sir, that whatever he wishes to know shall beexplained to him in about a week. At present I can give no otheranswer. "

"Very well, madam; he will wait that time, I am sure, for he does notwish to put you to any inconvenience. But when he heard the gentlemanwas gone abroad without owning his marriage, he thought it high time totake some notice of the matter. "

Cecilia, who by this speech found she was every way discovered, wasagain in the utmost confusion, and with much trepidation, said, "sinceyou seem so well, sir, acquainted with this affair, I should be gladyou would inform me by what means you came to the knowledge of it?"

"I heard it, madam, from Mr Eggleston himself, who has long known it. "

"Long, sir?--impossible! when it is not yet a fortnight--not ten days, or no more, that---"

She stopt, recollecting she was making a confession better deferred. 

"That, madam, " he answered, "may perhaps bear a little contention: forwhen this business comes to be settled, it will be very essential to beexact as to the time, even to the very hour; for a large income perannum, divides into a small one per diem: and if your husband keeps hisown name, you must not only give up your uncle's inheritance from thetime of relinquishing yours, but refund from the very day of yourmarriage. "

"There is not the least doubt of it, " answered she; nor will thesmallest difficulty be made. "

"You will please, then, to recollect, madam, that this sum is everyhour encreasing; and has been since last September, which made half ayear accountable for last March. Since then there is now added---"

"Good Heaven, Sir, " cried Cecilia, "what calculation are you makingout? do you call last week last September?"

"No, madam; but I call last September the month in which you weremarried. "

"You will find yourself, then, sir, extremely mistaken; and MrEggleston is preparing himself for much disappointment, if he supposesme so long in arrears with him. "

"Mr Eggleston, madam, happens to be well informed of this transaction, as, if there is any dispute in it, you will find. He was your immediatesuccessor in the house to which you went last September in Pall-Mall;the woman who kept it acquainted his servants that the last lady whohired it stayed with her but a day, and only came to town, she found, to be married: and hearing, upon enquiry, this lady was Miss Beverley, the servants, well knowing that their master was her conditional heir, told him the circumstance. "

"You will find all this, sir, end in nothing. "

"That, madam, as I said before, remains to be proved. If a young ladyat eight o'clock in the morning, is seen, --and she was seen, going intoa church with a young gentleman, and one female friend; and isafterwards observed to come out of it, followed by a clergyman andanother person, supposed to have officiated as father, and is seen getinto a coach with same young gentleman, and same female friend, why thecircumstances are pretty strong!--"

"They may seem so, Sir; but all conclusions drawn from them will beerroneous. I was not married then, upon my honour!"

"We have little, madam, to do with professions; the circumstances arestrong enough to bear a trial, and--"

"A trial!--"

"We have traced, madam, many witnesses able to stand to diversparticulars; and eight months share of such an estate as this, is wellworth a little trouble. "

"I am amazed, sir! surely Mr Eggleston never desired you to make use ofthis language to me?"

"Mr Eggleston, madam, has behaved very honourably; though he knew thewhole affair so long ago, he was persuaded Mr Delvile had privatereasons for a short concealment; and expecting every day when theywould be cleared up by his taking your name, he never interfered: butbeing now informed he set out last week for the continent, he has beenadvised by his friends to claim his rights. "

"That claim, sir, he need not fear will be satisfied; and without anyoccasion for threats of enquiries or law suits. "

"The truth, madam, is this; Mr Eggleston is at present in a littledifficulty about some money matters, which makes it a point with him ofsome consequence to have the affair settled speedily: unless you couldconveniently compromise the matter, by advancing a particular sum, tillit suits you to refund the whole that is due to him, and quit thepremises. "

"Nothing, sir, is due to him! at least, nothing worth mentioning. Ishall enter into no terms, for I have no compromise to make. As to thepremises, I will quit them with all the expedition in my power. "

"You will do well, madam; for the truth is, it will not be convenientto him to wait much longer. "

He then went away. 

"When, next, " cried Cecilia, "shall I again be weak, vain, blind enoughto form any plan with a hope of secresy? or enter, with _any_ hope, into a clandestine scheme! betrayed by those I have trusted, discoveredby those I have not thought of, exposed to the cruellest alarms, anddefenceless from the most shocking attacks!--Such has been the life Ihave led since the moment I first consented to a private engagement!--Ah Delvile! your mother, in her tenderness, forgot her dignity, or shewould not have concurred in an action which to such disgrace made meliable!"

CHAPTER iv. 

A DELIBERATION. 

It was necessary, however, not to moralize, but to act; Cecilia hadundertaken to give her answer in a week, and the artful attorney haddrawn from her an acknowledgment of her situation, by which he mightclaim it yet sooner. 

The law-suit with which she was threatened for the arrears of eightmonths, alarmed her not, though it shocked her, as she was certain shecould prove her marriage so much later. 

It was easy to perceive that this man had been sent with a view ofworking from her a confession, and terrifying from her some money; theconfession, indeed, in conscience and honesty she could not whollyelude, but she had suffered too often by a facility in parting withmoney to be there easily duped. 

Nothing, however, was more true, than that she now lived upon an estateof which she no longer was the owner, and that all she either spent orreceived was to be accounted for and returned, since by the will of heruncle, unless her husband took her name, her estate on the very day ofher marriage was to be forfeited, and entered upon by the Egglestons. Delvile's plan and hope of secresy had made them little weigh thismatter, though this premature discovery so unexpectedly exposed her totheir power. 

The first thought that occurred to her, was to send an express toDelvile, and desire his instructions how to proceed; but she dreadedhis impetuosity of temper, and was almost certain that the instant heshould hear she was in any uneasiness or perplexity, he would return toher, at all hazards, even though Mr Monckton were dead, and his motherherself dying. This step, therefore, she did not dare risk, preferringany personal hardship, to endangering the already precarious life ofMrs Delvile, or to hastening her son home while Mr Monckton was in sodesperate a situation. 

But though what to avoid was easy to settle, what to seek was difficultto devise. She bad now no Mrs Charlton to receive her, not a creaturein whom she could confide. To continue her present way of living wasdeeply involving Delvile in debt, a circumstance she had neverconsidered, in the confusion and hurry attending all their plans andconversations, and a circumstance which, though to him it might haveoccurred, he could not in common delicacy mention. 

Yet to have quitted her house, and retrenched her expences, would haveraised suspicions that must have anticipated the discovery she so muchwished to have delayed. That wish, by the present danger of itsfailure, was but more ardent; to have her affairs and situation becomepublicly known at the present period, she felt would half distracther. --Privately married, parted from her husband at the very moment oftheir union, a husband by whose hand the apparent friend of herearliest youth was all but killed, whose father had execrated thematch, whose mother was now falling a sacrifice to the vehemence withwhich she had opposed it, and who himself, little short of an exile, knew not yet if, with personal safety, he might return to his nativeland! To circumstances so dreadful, she had now the additional shock ofbeing uncertain whether her own house might not be seized, before anyother could be prepared for her reception!

Yet still whither to go, what to do, or what to resolve, she was whollyunable to determine; and after meditating almost to madness in thesearch of some plan or expedient, she was obliged to give over theattempt, and be satisfied with remaining quietly where she was, tillshe had better news from Delvile of his mother, or better news to sendhim of Mr Monckton; carefully, mean time, in all her letters avoidingto alarm him by any hint of her distress. 

Yet was she not idle, either from despair or helplessness: she foundher difficulties encreased, and she called forth more resolution tocombat them: she animated herself by the promise she had made Delvile, and recovering from the sadness to which she had at first given way, she now exerted herself with vigour to perform it as she ought. 

She began by making an immediate inspection into her affairs, andendeavouring, where expence seemed unnecessary, to lessen it. She gaveHenrietta to understand she feared they must soon part; and soafflicted was the unhappy girl at the news, that she found it the mostcruel office she had to execute. The same intimation she gave to MrsHarrel, who repined at it more openly, but with a selfishness soevident that it blunted the edge of pity. She then announced to Albanyher inability to pursue, at present, their extensive schemes ofbenevolence; and though he instantly left her, to carry on hislaborious plan elsewhere, the reverence she had now excited in him ofher character, made him leave her with no sensation but of regret, andreadily promise to return when her affairs were settled, or her mindmore composed. 

These little preparations, which were all she could make, withenquiries after Mr Monckton, and writing to Delvile, sufficientlyfilled up her time, though her thoughts were by no means confined tothem. Day after day passed, and Mr Monckton continued to linger ratherthan live; the letters of Delvile, still only dated from Ostend, contained the most melancholy complaints of the illness of his mother;and the time advanced when her answer would be claimed by the attorney. 

The thought of such another visit was almost intolerable; and withintwo days of the time that she expected it, she resolved to endeavourherself to prevail with Mr Eggleston to wait longer. 

Mr Eggleston was a gentleman whom she knew little more than by sight;he was no relation to her family, nor had any connection with the Dean, but by being a cousin to a lady he had married, and who had left him nochildren. The dean had no particular regard for him, and had rathermentioned him in his will as the successor of Cecilia, in case she diedunmarried or changed her name, as a mark that he approved of her doingneither, than as a matter he thought probable, if even possible, toturn out in his favour. 

He was a man of a large family, the sons of which, who were extravagantand dissipated, had much impaired his fortune by prevailing with him topay their debts, and much distressed him in his affairs by successfullyteasing him for money. 

Cecilia, acquainted with these circumstances, knew but too well withwhat avidity her estate would be seized by them, and how little thesons would endure delay, even if the father consented to it. Yet sincethe sacrifice to which she had agreed must soon make it indisputablytheir own, she determined to deal with them openly; and acknowledged, therefore, in her letter, her marriage without disguise, but beggedtheir patience and secresy, and promised, in a short time, the mosthonourable retribution and satisfaction. 

She sent this letter by a man and horse, Mr Eggleston's habitationbeing within fifteen miles of her own. 

The answer was from his eldest son, who acquainted her that his fatherwas very ill, and had put all his affairs into the hands of Mr Carn, his attorney, who was a man of great credit, and would see justice doneon all sides. 

If this answer, which she broke open the instant she took it into herhand, was in itself a cruel disappointment to her, how was thatdisappointment embittered by shame and terror, when, upon again foldingit up, she saw it was directed to Mrs Mortimer Delvile!

This was a decisive stroke; what they wrote to her, she was sure theywould mention to all others; she saw they were too impatient for herestate to be moved by any representations to a delay, and that theireagerness to publish their right, took from them all consideration ofwhat they might make her suffer. Mr Eggleston, she found, permittedhimself to be wholly governed by his son; his son was a needy andprofligate spendthrift, and by throwing the management of the affairinto the hands of an attorney, craftily meant to shield himself fromthe future resentment of Delvile, to whom, hereafter, he might affect, at his convenience, to disapprove Mr Carn's behaviour, while Mr Carnwas always secure, by averring he only exerted himself for the interestof his client. 

The discerning Cecilia, though but little experienced in business, andwholly unsuspicious by nature, yet saw into this management, anddoubted not these excuses were already arranged. She had only, therefore, to save herself an actual ejectment, by quitting a house inwhich she was exposed to such a disgrace. 

But still whither to go she knew not! One only attempt seemed in herpower for an honourable asylum, and that was more irksomely painful toher than seeking shelter in the meanest retreat: it was applying to MrDelvile senior. 

The action of leaving her house, whether quietly or forcibly, could notbut instantly authenticate the reports spread by the Egglestons of hermarriage: to hope therefore for secresy any longer would be folly, andMr Delvile's rage at such intelligence might be still greater to hearit by chance than from herself. She now lamented that Delvile had notat once told the tale, but, little foreseeing such a discovery as thepresent, they had mutually concluded to defer the communication tillhis return. 

Her own anger at the contemptuous ill treatment she had repeatedly metfrom him, she was now content not merely to suppress but to dismiss, since, as the wife of his son without his consent, she consideredherself no longer as wholly innocent of incurring it. Yet, such was herdread of his austerity and the arrogance of his reproaches, that, bychoice, she would have preferred an habitation with her own pensioner, the pew-opener, to the grandest apartment in Delvile Castle while hecontinued its lord. 

In her present situation, however, her choice was little to beconsulted: the honour of Delvile was concerned in her escaping eventemporary disgrace, and nothing, she knew, would so much gratify him, as any attention from her to his father. She wrote to him, therefore, the following letter, which she sent by an express. 

_To the Hon. Compton Delvile. 

April 29th_, 1780. 

SIR, --I should not, even by letter, presume thus to force myself uponyour remembrance, did I not think it a duty I now owe your son, both torisk and to bear the displeasure it may unhappily occasion. After suchan acknowledgment, all other confession would be superfluous; anduncertain as I am if you will ever deign to own me, more words than arenecessary would be merely impertinent. 

It was the intention of your son, Sir, when he left the kingdom, tosubmit wholly to your arbitration, at his return, which should beresigned, his own name or my fortune: but his request for yourdecision, and his supplication for your forgiveness, are both, mostunfortunately, prevented, by a premature and unforeseen discovery ofour situation, which renders an immediate determination absolutelyunavoidable. 

At this distance from him, I cannot, in time, receive his directionsupon the measures I have to take; pardon me then, Sir, if well knowingmy reference to him will not be more implicit than his own to you, Iventure, in the present important crisis of my affairs, to entreatthose commands instantly, by which I am certain of being guidedultimately. 

I would commend myself to your favour but that I dread exciting yourresentment. I will detain you, therefore, only to add, that the fatherof Mr Mortimer Delvile, will ever meet the most profound respect fromher who, without his permission, dare sign no name to the honour shenow has in declaring herself his most humble, and most obedientservant. 

* * * * *

Her mind was somewhat easier when this letter was written, because shethought it a duty, yet felt reluctance in performing it. She wished tohave represented to him strongly the danger of Delvile's hearing herdistress, but she knew so well his inordinate self-sufficiency, shefeared a hint of that sort might be construed into an insult, andconcluded her only chance that he would do any thing, was by leavingwholly to his own suggestions the weighing and settling what. 

But though nothing was more uncertain than whether she should bereceived at Delvile Castle, nothing was more fixed than that she mustquit her own house, since the pride of Mr Delvile left not even achance that his interest would conquer it. She deferred not, therefore, any longer making preparations for her removal, though wholly unsettledwhither. 

Her first, which was also her most painful task, was to acquaintHenrietta with her situation: she sent, therefore, to desire to speakwith her, but the countenance of Henrietta shewed her communicationwould not surprise her. 

"What is the matter with my dear Henrietta?" cried Cecilia; "who is ithas already afflicted that kind heart which I am now compelled toafflict for myself?"

Henrietta, in whom anger appeared to be struggling with sorrow, answered, "No, madam, not afflicted for _you_! it would be strange if Iwere, thinking as I think!"

"I am glad, " said Cecilia, calmly, "if you are not, for I would give toyou, were it possible, nothing but pleasure and joy. "

"Ah madam!" cried Henrietta, bursting into tears, "why will you say sowhen you don't care what becomes of me! when you are going to cast meoff!--and when you will soon be too happy ever to think of me more!"

"If I am never happy till then, " said Cecilia, "sad, indeed, will be mylife! no, my gentlest friend, you will always have your share in myheart; and always, to me, would have been the welcomest guest in myhouse, but for those unhappy circumstances which make our separatinginevitable. "

"Yet you suffered me, madam, to hear from any body that you was marriedand going away; and all the common servants in the house knew it beforeme. "

"I am amazed!" said Cecilia; "how and which way can they have heardit?"

"The man that went to Mr Eggleston brought the first news of it, for hesaid all the servants there talked of nothing else, and that theirmaster was to come and take possession here next Thursday. "

Cecilia started at this most unwelcome intelligence; "Yet you envy me, "she cried, "Henrietta, though I am forced from my house! though inquitting it, I am unprovided with any other, and though him for whom Irelinquish it, is far off, without means of protecting, or power ofreturning to me!"

"But you are married to him, madam!" cried she, expressively. 

"True, my love; but, also, I am parted from him!"

"Oh how differently, " exclaimed Henrietta, "do the great think from thelittle! were _I_ married, --and _so_ married, I should want neitherhouse, nor fine cloaths, nor riches, nor any thing;--I should not carewhere I lived, --every place would be paradise! I would walk to himbarefoot if he were a thousand miles off, and I should mind nobody elsein the world while I had him to take care of me!"

Ah Delvile! thought Cecilia, what powers of fascination are yours!should I be tempted to repine at what I have to bear, I will think ofthis heroick girl and blush!

Mrs Harrel now broke in upon them, eager to be informed of the truth orfalsehood of the reports which were buzzed throughout the house. Cecilia briefly related to them both the state of her affairs, earnestly expressing her concern at the abrupt separation which musttake place, and for which she had been unable to prepare them, as thecircumstances which led to it had been wholly unforeseen by herself. 

Mrs Harrel listened to the account with much curiosity and surprize;but Henrietta wept incessantly in hearing it: the object of a passionardent as it was romantic, lost to her past recovery; torn herself, probably for ever, from the best friend she had in the world; andobliged to return thus suddenly to an home she detested, --Henriettapossessed not the fortitude to hear evils such as these, which, to herinexperienced heart, appeared the severest that could be inflicted. 

This conversation over, Cecilia sent for her Steward, and desired him, with the utmost expedition, to call in all her bills, and instantly togo round to her tenants within twenty miles, and gather in, from thosewho were able to pay, the arrears now due to her; charging him, however, upon no account, to be urgent with such as seemed distressed. 

The bills she had to pay were collected without difficulty; she neverowed much, and creditors are seldom hard of access; but the money shehoped to receive fell very short of her expectations, for theindulgence she had shewn to her tenants had ill prepared them for sosudden a demand. 

CHAPTER v. 

A DECISION. 

This business effectually occupied the present and following day; thethird, Cecilia expected her answer from Delvile Castle, and the visitshe so much dreaded from the attorney. 

The answer arrived first. 

_To Miss Beverley_. 

MADAM, --As my son has never apprized me of the extraordinary step whichyour letter intimates, I am too unwilling to believe him capable of sofar forgetting what he owes his family, to ratify any such intimationby interfering with my counsel or opinion. --I am, Madam, &c. , COMPTON DELVILE. 

DELVILE CASTLE, _May 1st, 1780_. 

Cecilia had little right to be surprised by this letter, and she hadnot a moment to comment upon it, before the attorney arrived. 

"Well, madam, " said the man, as he entered the parlour, "Mr Egglestonhas stayed your own time very patiently: he commissions me now toenquire if it is convenient to you to quit the premises. "

"No, Sir, it is by no means convenient to me; and if Mr Eggleston willwait some time longer, I shall be greatly obliged to him. "

"No doubt, madam, but he will, upon proper considerations. "

"What, Sir, do you call proper?"

"Upon your advancing to him, as I hinted before, an immediateparticular sum from what must, by and bye, be legally restituted. "

"If this is the condition of his courtesy, I will quit the housewithout giving him further trouble. "

"Just as it suits you, madam. He will be glad to take possession to-morrow or next day. "

"You did well, Sir, to commend his patience! I shall, however, merelydischarge my servants, and settle my accounts, and be ready to make wayfor him. "

"You will not take it amiss, madam, if I remind you that the accountwith Mr Eggleston must be the first that is settled. "

"If you mean the arrears of this last fortnight or three weeks, Ibelieve I must desire him to wait Mr Delvile's return, as I mayotherwise myself be distressed for ready money. "

"That, madam, is not likely, as it is well known you have a fortunethat was independent of your late uncle; and as to distress for readymoney, it is a plea Mr Eggleston can urge much more strongly. "

"This is being strangely hasty, Sir!--so short a time as it is since MrEggleston could expect _any_ of this estate!"

"That, madam, is nothing to the purpose; from the moment it is his, hehas as many wants for it as any other gentleman. He desired me, however, to acquaint you, that if you still chose an apartment in thishouse, till Mr Delvile returns, you shall have one at your service. "

"To be a _guest_ in this house, Sir, " said Cecilia, drily, "mightperhaps seem strange to me; I will not, therefore, be so much in hisway. "

Mr Carn then informed her she might put her seal upon whatever shemeant hereafter to claim or dispute, and took his leave. 

Cecilia now shut herself up in her own room, to meditate withoutinterruption, before she would proceed to any action. She felt muchinclination to send instantly for some lawyer; but when she consideredher peculiar situation, the absence of her husband, the renunciation ofhis father, the loss of her fortune, and her ignorance upon thesubject, she thought it better to rest quiet till Delvile's own fate, and own opinion could be known, than to involve herself in a lawsuitshe was so little able to superintend. 

In this cruel perplexity of her mind and her affairs, her first thoughtwas to board again with Mrs Bayley; but that was soon given up, for shefelt a repugnance unconquerable to continuing in her native county, when deprived of her fortune, and cast out of her dwelling. 

Her situation, indeed, was singularly unhappy, since, by thisunforeseen vicissitude of fortune, she was suddenly, from being anobject of envy and admiration, sunk into distress, and threatened withdisgrace; from being every where caressed, and by every voice praised, she blushed to be seen, and expected to be censured; and, from beinggenerally regarded as an example of happiness, and a model of virtue, she was now in one moment to appear to the world, an outcast from herown house, yet received into no other! a bride, unclaimed by a husband!an HEIRESS, dispossessed of all wealth!

To be first acknowledged as _Mrs Delvile_ in a state so degrading, shecould not endure; and to escape from it, one way alone remained, whichwas going instantly abroad. 

Upon this, therefore, she finally determined: her former objections tosuch a step being now wholly, though unpleasantly removed, since shehad neither estate nor affairs to demand her stay, and since all hopesof concealment were totally at an end. Her marriage, therefore, and itsdisgraceful consequences being published to the world, she resolvedwithout delay to seek the only asylum which was proper for her, in theprotection of the husband for whom she had given up every other. 

She purposed, therefore, to go immediately and privately to London, whence she could best settle her route for the continent: where shehoped to arrive before the news of her distress reached Delvile, whomnothing, she was certain, but her own presence, could keep there for amoment after hearing it. 

Thus decided, at length, in her plan, she proceeded to put it inexecution with calmness and intrepidity; comforting herself that theconveniencies and indulgencies with which she was now parting, wouldsoon be restored to her, and though not with equal power, with far moresatisfaction. She told her steward her design of going the next morningto London, bid him pay instantly all her debts, and discharge all herservants, determining to keep no account open but that with MrEggleston, which he had made so intricate by double and undue demands, that she thought it most prudent and safe to leave him wholly toDelvile. 

She then packed up all her papers and letters, and ordered her maid topack up her clothes. 

She next put her own seal upon her cabinets, draws, and many otherthings, and employed almost all her servants at once, in makingcomplete inventories of what every room contained. 

She advised Mrs Harrel to send without delay for Mr Arnott, and returnto his house. She had first purposed to carry Henrietta home to hermother herself; but another scheme for her now occurred, from which shehoped much future advantage to the amiable and dejected girl. 

She knew well, that deep as was at present her despondency, the removalof all possibility of hope, by her knowledge of Delvile's marriage, must awaken her before long from the delusive visions of her romanticfancy; Mr Arnott himself was in a situation exactly similar, and theknowledge of the same event would probably be productive of the sameeffect. When Mrs Harrel, therefore, began to repine at the solitude towhich she was returning, Cecilia proposed to her the society ofHenrietta, which, glad to catch at any thing that would break into herloneliness, she listened to with pleasure, and seconded by aninvitation. 

Henrietta, to whom all houses appeared preferable to her own home, joyfully accepted the offer, committing to Cecilia the communication ofthe change of her abode to Mrs Belfield. 

Cecilia, who in the known and tried honour of Mr Arnott wouldunreluctantly have trusted a sister, was much pleased by this littlearrangement, from which should no good ensue, no evil, at least, wasprobable. But she hoped, through the mutual pity their mutualmelancholy might inspire, that their minds, already not dissimilar, would be softened in favour of each other, and that, in conclusion, each might be happy in receiving the consolation each could give, and aunion would take place, in which their reciprocal disappointment might, in time, be nearly forgotten. 

There was not, indeed, much promise of such an event in the countenanceof Mr Arnott, when, late at night, he came for his sister, nor in theunbounded sorrow of Henrietta, when the moment of leave-takingarrived. Mr Arnott looked half dead with the shock his sister'sintelligence had given him, and Henrietta's heart, torn asunder betweenfriendship and love, was scarce able to bear a parting, which fromCecilia, she regarded as eternal, added to the consciousness it wasoccasioned by her going to join Delvile for life!

Cecilia, who both read and pitied these conflicting emotions, washerself extremely hurt by this necessary separation. She tenderly lovedHenrietta, she loved her even the more for the sympathy of theiraffections, which called forth the most forcible commiseration, --thatwhich springs from fellow-feeling!

"Farewell, " she cried, "my Henrietta, be but happy as you are innocent, and be both as I love you, and nothing will your friends have to wishfor you, or yourself to regret. "

"I must always regret, " cried the sobbing Henrietta, "that I cannotlive with you for ever! I should regret it if I were queen of all theworld, how much more then, when I am nothing and nobody! I do not wish_you_ happy, madam, for I think happiness was made on purpose for you, and nobody else ever had it before; I only wish you health and longlife, for the sake of those who will be made as happy as you, --for youwill spoil them, --as you have spoilt me, --from being ever happy withoutyou!"

Cecilia re-iterated her assurances of a most faithful regard, embracedMrs Harrel, spoke words of kindness to the drooping Mr Arnott, and thenparted with them all. 

Having still many small matters to settle, and neither company norappetite, she would eat no supper; but, in passing thro' the hall, inher way to her own room, she was much surprised to see all herdomestics assembled in a body. She stopt to enquire their intention, when they eagerly pressed forward, humbly and earnestly entreating toknow why they were discharged? "For no reason in the world, " criedCecilia, "but because it is at present out of my power to keep you anylonger. "

"Don't part with _me_, madam, for that, " cried one of them, "for I willserve you for nothing!"

"So will I!" cried another, "And I!" "And I!" was echoed by them all;while "no other such mistress is to be found!" "We can never bear anyother place!" and "keep _me_, madam, at least!" was even clamorouslyurged by each of them. 

Cecilia, distressed and flattered at once by their unwillingness toquit her, received this testimony of gratitude for the kind and liberaltreatment they had received, with the warmest thanks both for theirservices and fidelity, and assured them that when again she wassettled, all those who should be yet unprovided with places, should bepreferred in her house before any other claimants. 

Having, with difficulty, broken from them, she sent for her own man, Ralph, who had lived with her many years before the death of the Dean, and told him she meant still to continue him in her service. The manheard it with great delight, and promised to re-double his diligence todeserve her favour. She then communicated the same news to her maid, who had also resided with her some years, and by whom with the same, ormore pleasure it was heard. 

These and other regulations employed her almost all night; yet late andfatigued as she went to bed, she could not close her eyes: fearfulsomething was left undone, she robbed herself of the short time she hadallowed to rest, by incessant meditation upon what yet remained to beexecuted. She could recollect, however, one only thing that had escapedher vigilance, which was acquainting the pew-opener, and two or threeother poor women who had weekly pensions from her, that they must, atleast for the present, depend no longer upon her assistance. 

Nothing indeed could be more painful to her than giving them suchinformation, yet not to be speedy with it would double the barbarity oftheir disappointment. She even felt for these poor women, whose loss inher she knew would be irreparable, a compassion that drove from hermind almost every other subject, and determined her, in order to softento them this misfortune, to communicate it herself, that she mightprevent them from sinking under it, by reviving them with hopes of herfuture assistance. 

She had ordered at seven o'clock in the morning an hired chaise at thedoor, and she did not suffer it long to wait for her. She quitted herhouse with a heart full of care and anxiety, grieving at the necessityof making such a sacrifice, uncertain how it would turn out, andlabouring under a thousand perplexities with respect to the measuresshe ought immediately to take. She passed, when she reached the hall, through a row of weeping domestics, not one of whom with dry eyes couldsee the house bereft of such a mistress. She spoke to them all withkindness, and as much as was in her power with chearfulness: but thetone of her voice gave them little reason to think the concern at thisjourney was all their own. 

She ordered her chaise to drive round to the pew-opener's and thence tothe rest of her immediate dependents. She soon, however, regretted thatshe had given herself this task; the affliction of these poorpensioners was clamorous, was almost heart-breaking; they could live, they said, no longer, they were ruined for ever; they should soon bewithout bread to eat, and they might cry for help in vain, when theirgenerous, their only benefactress was far away!

Cecilia made the kindest efforts, to comfort and encourage them, assuring them the very moment her own affairs were arranged, she wouldremember them all, visit them herself, and contribute to their relief, with all the power she should have left. Nothing, however, couldconsole them; they clung about her, almost took the horses from thechaise, and conjured her not to desert those who were solely cherishedby her bounty!

Nor was this all she had to suffer; the news of her intention to quitthe county was now reported throughout the neighbourhood, and hadspread the utmost consternation among the poor in general, and thelower close of her own tenants in particular, and the road was soonlined with women and children, wringing their hands and crying. Theyfollowed her carriage with supplications that she would return to them, mixing blessings with their lamentations, and prayers for her happinesswith the bitterest repinings at their own loss!

Cecilia was extremely affected; her liberal and ever-ready hand wasevery other instant involuntarily seeking her purse, which her manyimmediate expences, made her prudence as often check: and now first shefelt the capital error she had committed, in living constantly to theutmost extent of her income, without ever preparing, though so able tohave done it, against any unfortunate contingency. 

When she escaped, at last, from receiving any longer this painfultribute to her benevolence, she gave orders to her man to ride forwardand stop at the Grove, that a precise and minute account of MrMonckton, might be the last, as it was now become the most important, news she should hear in Suffolk. This he did, when to her equalsurprise and delight, she heard that he was suddenly so much better, there were hopes of his recovery. 

Intelligence so joyful made her amends for almost every thing; yet shehesitated not in her plan of going abroad, as she knew not where to bein England, and could not endure to hurry Delvile from his sick mother, by acquainting him with her helpless and distressed situation. But sorevived were her spirits by these unexpected tidings, that a gleam ofbrightest hope once more danced before her eyes, and she felt herselfinvigorated with fresh courage and new strength, sufficient to supporther through all hardships and fatigues. 

Spirits and courage were indeed much wanted for the enterprize she hadformed; but little used to travelling, and having never been out ofEngland, she knew nothing of the route but by a general knowledge ofgeography, which, though it could guide her east or west, could teachher nothing of foreign customs, the preparations necessary for thejourney, the impositions she should guard against, nor the variousdangers to which she might be exposed, from total ignorance of thecountry through which she had to pass. 

Conscious of these deficiencies for such an undertaking, shedeliberated without intermission how to obviate them. Yet sometimes, when to these hazards, those arising from her youth and sex were added, she was upon the point of relinquishing her scheme, as too perilous forexecution, and resolving to continue privately in London till somechange happened in her affairs. 

But though to every thing she could suggest, doubts and difficultiesarose, she had no friend to consult, nor could devise any means bywhich they might be terminated. Her maid was her only companion, andRalph, who had spent almost his whole life in Suffolk, her only guardand attendant. To hire immediately some French servant, used totravelling in his own country, seemed the first step she had to take, and so essential, that no other appeared feasible till it was done. Butwhere to hear of such a man she could not tell, and to take one notwell recommended, would be exposing herself to frauds and dangersinnumerable. 

Yet so slow as Delvile travelled, from whom her last letter was stilldated Ostend, she thought herself almost certain, could she once reachthe continent, of overtaking him in his route within a day or two ofher landing. 

The earnest inclination with which this scheme was seconded, made herevery moment less willing to forego it. It seemed the only harbour forher after the storm she had weathered, and the only refuge she couldproperly seek while thus houseless and helpless. Even were Delvile inEngland, he had no place at present to offer her, nor could any thingbe proposed so unexceptionable as her living with Mrs Delvile at Nice, till he knew his father's pleasure, and, in a separate journey home, had arranged his affairs either for her return, or her continuanceabroad. 

With what regret did she now look back to the time when, in a distresssuch as this, she should have applied for, and received the advice ofMr Monckton as oracular! The loss of a counsellor so long, soimplicitly relied upon, lost to her also, only by his own interestedworthlessness, she felt almost daily, for almost daily some intricacyor embarrassment made her miss his assistance: and though glad, sinceshe found him so undeserving, that she had escaped the snares he hadspread for her, she grieved much that she knew no man of honestcharacter and equal abilities, that would care for her sufficiently tosupply his place in her confidence. 

As she was situated at present, she could think only of Mr Belfield towhom she could apply for any advice. Nor even to him was theapplication unexceptionable, the calumnies of Mr Delvile senior makingit disagreeable to her even to see him. But he was at once a man of theworld and a man of honour; he was the friend of Mortimer, whoseconfidence in him was great, and his own behaviour had uniformly shewna respect far removed from impertinence or vanity, and a mind superiorto being led to them by the influence of his gross mother. She had, indeed, when she last quitted his house, determined never to re-enterit; but determinations hasty or violent, are rarely observed, becauserarely practicable; she had promised Henrietta to inform Mrs Belfieldwhither she was gone, and reconcile her to the absence she still hopedto make from home. She concluded, therefore, to go to Portland-streetwithout delay, and enquire openly and at once whether, and when, shemight speak with Mr Belfield; resolving, if tormented again by anyforward insinuations, to rectify all mistakes by acknowledging hermarriage. 

She gave directions accordingly to the post-boy and Ralph. 

With respect to her own lodgings while in town, as money was no longerunimportant to her, she meant from the Belfields to go to the Hills, bywhom she might be recommended to some reputable and cheap place. To theBelfields, however, though very late when she arrived in town, she wentfirst, unwilling to lose a moment in promoting her scheme of goingabroad. 

She left her maid in the chaise, and sent Ralph on to Mrs Hill, withdirections to endeavour immediately to procure her a lodging. 

CHAPTER vi. 

A PRATING. 

Cecilia was shewn into a parlour, where Mrs Belfield was very earnestlydiscoursing with Mr Hobson and Mr Simkins; and Belfield himself, to hergreat satisfaction, was already there, and reading. 

"Lack a-day!" cried Mrs Belfield, "if one does not always see thepeople one's talking of! Why it was but this morning, madam, I wassaying to Mr Hobson, I wonder, says I, a young lady of such fortunes asMiss Beverley should mope herself up so in the country! Don't youremember it, Mr Hobson?"

"Yes, madam, " answered Mr Hobson, "but I think, for my part, the younglady's quite in the right to do as she's a mind; for that's what I callliving agreeable: and if I was a young lady to-morrow, with such finefortunes, and that, it's just what I should do myself: for what I sayis this: where's the joy of having a little money, and being a littlematter above the world, if one has not one's own will?"

"Ma'am, " said Mr Simkins, who had scarce yet raised his head from theprofoundness of his bow upon Cecilia's entrance into the room, "if Imay be so free, may I make bold just for to offer you this chair?"

"I called, madam, " said Cecilia, seizing the first moment in her powerto speak, "in order to acquaint you that your daughter, who isperfectly well, has made a little change in her situation, which shewas anxious you should hear from myself. "

"Ha! ha! stolen a match upon you, I warrant!" cried the facetious MrHobson; "a good example for you, young lady; and if you take my advice, you won't be long before you follow it; for as to a lady, let her beworth never so much, she's a mere nobody, as one may say, till she canget herself a husband, being she knows nothing of business, and is madeto pay for every thing through the nose. "

"Fie, Mr Hobson, fie!" said Mr Simkins, "to talk so slighting of theladies before their faces! what one says in a corner, is quite ofanother nature; but for to talk so rude in their company, --I thoughtyou would scorn to do such a thing. "

"Sir, I don't want to be rude no more than yourself, " said Mr Hobson, "for what I say is, rudeness is a thing that makes nobody agreeable;but I don't see because of that, why a man is not to speak his mind toa lady as well as to a gentleman, provided he does it in a complaisantfashion. "

"Mr Hobson, " cried Mrs Belfield, very impatiently, "you might as welllet _me_ speak, when the matter is all about my own daughter. "

"I ask pardon, ma'am, " said he, "I did not mean to stop you; for as tonot letting a lady speak, one might as well tell a man in business notto look at the Daily Advertiser; why, it's morally impossible!"

"But sure, madam, " cried Mrs Belfield, "it's no such thing? You can'thave got her off already?"

"I would I had!" thought Cecilia; who then explained her meaning; butin talking of Mrs Harrel, avoided all mention of Mr Arnott, wellforeseeing that to hear such a man existed, and was in the same housewith her daughter, would be sufficient authority to her sanguineexpectations, for depending upon a union between them, and reporting itamong her friends, his circumstance being made clear, Cecilia added, "Icould by no means have consented voluntarily to parting so soon withMiss Belfield, but that my own affairs call me at present out of thekingdom. " And then, addressing herself to Belfield, she enquired if hecould recommend to her a trusty foreign servant, who would be hiredonly for the time she was to spend abroad?

While Belfield was endeavouring to recollect some such person, MrHobson eagerly called out "As to going abroad, madam, to be sure you'reto do as you like, for that, as I say, is the soul of every thing; butelse I can't say it's a thing I much approve; for my notion is this:here's a fine fortune, got as a man may say, out of the bowels of one'smother country, and this fine fortune, in default of male issue, isobliged to come to a female, the law making no proviso to the contrary. Well, this female, going into a strange country, naturally takes withher this fortune, by reason it's the main article she has to dependupon; what's the upshot? why she gets pilfered by a set of sharpersthat never saw England in their lives, and that never lose sight of hertill she has not a sous in the world. But the hardship of the thing isthis: when it's all gone, the lady can come back, but will the moneycome back?--No, you'll never see it again: now this is what I callbeing no true patriot. "

"I am quite ashamed for to hear you talk so, Mr Hobson!" cried MrSimkins, affecting to whisper; "to go for to take a person to task atthis rate, is behaving quite unbearable; it's enough to make the younglady afraid to speak before you. "

"Why, Mr Simkins, " answered Mr Hobson, "truth is truth, whether onespeaks it or not; and that, ma'am, I dare say, a young lady of yourgood sense knows as well as myself. "

"I think, madam, " said Belfield, who waited their silence with greatimpatience, "that I know just such a man as you will require, and oneupon whose honesty I believe you may rely. "

"That's more, " said Mr Hobson, "than I would take upon me to say forany _Englishman_! where you may meet with such a _Frenchman_, I won'tbe bold to say. "

"Why indeed, " said Mr Simkins, "if I might take the liberty for to putin, though I don't mean in no shape to go to contradicting the younggentleman, but if I was to make bold to speak my private opinion uponthe head, I should be inclinable for to say, that as to putting adependance upon the French, it's a thing quite dubious how it may turnout. "

"I take it as a great favour, ma'am, " said Mrs Belfield, "that you havebeen so complaisant as to make me this visit to-night, for I was almostafraid you would not have done me the favour any more; for, to be sure, when you was here last, things went a little unlucky: but I had nonotion, for my part, who the old gentleman was till after he was gone, when Mr Hobson told me it was old Mr Delvile: though, sure enough, Ithought it rather upon the extraordinary order, that he should comehere into my parlour, and make such a secret of his name, on purpose toask me questions about my own son. "

"Why I think, indeed, if I may be so free, " said Mr Simkins, "it wasrather petickeler of the gentleman; for, to be sure, if he was so overcurious to hear about your private concerns, the genteel thing, if Imay take the liberty for to differ, would have been for him to say, ma'am, says he, I'm come to ask the favour of you just to let me alittle into your son's goings on; and any thing, ma'am, you should takea fancy for to ask me upon the return, why I shall be very compliable, ma'am, says he, to giving of you satisfaction. "

"I dare say, " answered Mrs Belfield, "he would not have said so much ifyou'd have gone down on your knees to ask him. Why he was upon the verypoint of being quite in a passion because I only asked him his name!though what harm that could do him, I'm sure I never could guess. However, as he was so mighty inquisitive about my son, if I had butknown who he was in time, I should have made no scruple in the world toask him if he could not have spoke a few words for him to some of thosegreat people that could have done him some good. But the thing that Ibelieve put him so out of humour, was my being so unlucky as to say, before ever I knew who he was, that I had heard he was not over andabove good-natured; for I saw he did not seem much to like it at thetime. "

"If he had done the generous thing, " said Mr Simkins, "it would havebeen for him to have made the proffer of his services of his own free-will; and it's rather surpriseable to me he should never have thoughtof it; for what could be so natural as for him to say, I see, ma'am, says he, you've got a very likely young gentleman here, that's a littleout of cash, says he, so I suppose, ma'am, says he, a place, or apension, or something in that shape of life, would be no badcompliment, says he. "

"But no such good luck as that will come to my share, " cried MrsBelfield, "I can tell you that, for every thing I want to do goes quitecontrary. Who would not have thought such a son as mine, though I sayit before his face, could not have made his fortune long ago, living ashe did, among all the great folks, and dining at their table just likeone of themselves? yet, for all that, you see they let him go on hisown way, and think of him no more than of nobody! I'm sure they mightbe ashamed to shew their faces, and so I should tell them at once, if Icould but get sight of them. "

"I don't mean, ma'am, " said Mr Simkins, "for to be finding fault withwhat you say, for I would not be unpelite in no shape; but if I mightbe so free as for to differ a little bit, I must needs say I am ratherfor going to work in anotherguess sort of a manner; and if I was asyou--"

"Mr Simkins, " interrupted Belfield, "we will settle this matter anothertime. " And then, turning to the wearied Cecilia, "The man, madam, " hesaid, "whom I have done myself the honour to recommend to you, I cansee to-morrow morning; may I then tell him to wait upon you?"

"I ask pardon for just putting in, " cried Mr Simkins, before Ceciliacould answer, and again bowing down to the ground, "but I only mean tosay I had no thought for to be impertinent, for as to what I was agoingto remark, is was not of no consequence in the least. "

"Its a great piece of luck, ma'am, " said Mrs Belfield, "that you shouldhappen to come here, of a holiday! If my son had not been at home, Ishould have been ready to cry for a week: and you might come any daythe year through but a Sunday, and not meet with him any more than ifhe had never a home to come to. "

"If Mr Belfield's home-visits are so periodical, " said Cecilia, "itmust be rather less, than more, difficult to meet with him. "

"Why you know, ma'am, " answered Mrs Belfield, "to-day is a red-letterday, so that's the reason of it. "

"A red-letter day?"

"Good lack, madam, why have not you heard that my son is turned book-keeper?"

Cecilia, much surprised, looked at Belfield, who, colouring very high, and apparently much provoked by his mother's loquacity, said, "Had MissBeverley not heard it even now, madam, I should probably have lost withher no credit. "

"You can surely lose none, Sir, " answered Cecilia, "by an employmenttoo little pleasant to have been undertaken from any but the mostlaudable motives. "

"It is not, madam, the employment, " said he, "for which I so much blushas for the person employed--for _myself_! In the beginning of thewinter you left me just engaged in another business, a business withwhich I was madly delighted, and fully persuaded I should be enchantedfor ever;--now, again, in the beginning of the summer, --you find me, already, in a new occupation!"

"I am sorry, " said Cecilia, "but far indeed from surprised, that youfound yourself deceived by such sanguine expectations. "

"Deceived!" cried he, with energy, "I was bewitched, I was infatuated!common sense was estranged by the seduction of a chimera; myunderstanding was in a ferment from the ebullition of my imagination!But when this new way of life lost its novelty, --novelty! that short-liv'd, but exquisite bliss! no sooner caught than it vanishes, nosooner tasted than it is gone! which charms but to fly, and comes butto destroy what it leaves behind!--when that was lost, reason, cool, heartless reason, took its place, and teaching me to wonder at thefrenzy of my folly, brought me back to the tameness--the sadness ofreality!"

"I am sure, " cried Mrs Belfield, "whatever it has brought you back to, it has brought you back to no good! it's a hard case, you must needsthink, madam, to a mother, to see a son that might do whatever hewould, if he'd only set about it, contenting himself with doing nothingbut scribble and scribe one day, and when he gets tired of that, thinking of nothing better than casting up two and two!"

"Why, madam, " said Mr Hobson, "what I have seen of the world is this;there's nothing methodizes a man but business. If he's never so muchupon the stilts, that's always a sure way to bring him down, by reasonhe soon finds there's nothing to be got by rhodomontading. Let everyman be his own carver; but what I say is, them gentlemen that are whatone may call geniuses, commonly think nothing of the main chance, tillthey get a tap on the shoulder with a writ; and a solid lad, that knowsthree times five is fifteen, will get the better of them in the longrun. But as to arguing with gentlemen of that sort, where's the good ofit? You can never bring them to the point, say what you will; all youcan get from them, is a farrago of fine words, that you can'tunderstand without a dictionary. "

"I am inclinable to think, " said Mr Simkins, "that the young gentlemanis rather of opinion to like pleasure better than business; and, to besure, it's very excusable of him, because it's more agreeabler. And Imust needs say, if I may be so free, I'm partly of the younggentleman's mind, for business is a deal more trouble. "

"I hope, however, " said Cecilia to Belfield, "your present situation isless irksome to you?"

"Any situation, madam, must be less irksome than that which I quitted:to write by rule, to compose by necessity, to make the understanding, nature's first gift, subservient to interest, that meanest offspring ofart!--when weary, listless, spiritless, to rack the head for invention, the memory for images, and the fancy for ornament and illusion; andwhen the mind is wholly occupied by its own affections and affairs, tocall forth all its faculties for foreign subjects, uninterestingdiscussions, or fictitious incidents!--Heavens! what a life of strugglebetween the head and the heart! how cruel, how unnatural a war betweenthe intellects and the feelings!"

"As to these sort of things, " said Mr Hobson, "I can't say I am muchversed in them, by reason they are things I never much studied; but ifI was to speak my notion, it is this; the best way to thrive in theworld is to get money; but how is it to be got? Why by business: forbusiness is to money, what fine words are to a lady, a sure road tosuccess. Now I don't mean by this to be censorious upon the ladies, being they have nothing else to go by, for as to examining if a manknows any thing of the world, and that, they have nothing whereby tojudge, knowing nothing of it themselves. So that when they are taken inby rogues and sharpers, the fault is all in the law, for making noproviso against their having money in their own hands. Let every one betrusted according to their headpiece and what I say is this: a lady inthem cases is much to be pitied, for she is obligated to take a manupon his own credit, which is tantamount to no credit at all, beingwhat man will speak an ill word of himself? you may as well expect abad shilling to cry out don't take me! That's what I say, and that's myway of giving my vote. "

Cecilia, quite tired of these interruptions, and impatient to be gone, now said to Belfield, "I should be much obliged to you, Sir, if youcould send to me the man you speak of tomorrow morning. I wished, alsoto consult you with regard to the route I ought to take. My purpose isto go to Nice, and as I am very desirous to travel expeditiously, youmay perhaps be able to instruct me what is the best method for me topursue. "

"Come, Mr Hobson and Mr Simkins, " cried Mrs Belfield, with a look ofmuch significance and delight, "suppose you two and I was to walk intothe next room? There's no need for us to hear all the young lady mayhave a mind to say. "

"She has nothing to say, madam, " cried Cecilia, "that the whole worldmay not hear. Neither is it my purpose to talk, but to listen, if MrBelfield is at leisure to favour me with his advice. "

"I must always be at leisure, and always be proud, madam, " Belfieldbegan, when Hobson, interrupting him, said, "I ask pardon, Sir, forintruding, but I only mean to wish the young lady good night. As tointerfering with business, that's not my way, for it's not the rightmethod, by reason--"

"We will listen to your reason, Sir, " cried Belfield, "some other time;at present we will give you all credit for it unheard. "

"Let every man speak his own maxim, Sir, " cried Hobson; "for that'swhat I call fair arguing: but as to one person's speaking, and thenmaking an answer for another into the bargain, why it's going to workno-how; you may as well talk to a counter, and think because you make anoise upon it with your own hand, it gives you the reply. "

"Why, Mr Hobson, " cried Mrs Belfield, "I am quite ashamed of you forbeing so dull! don't you see my son has something to say to the ladythat you and I have no business to be meddling with?"

"I'm sure, ma'am, for my part, " said Mr Simkins, "I'm very agreeable togoing away, for as to putting the young lady to the blush, it's what Iwould not do in no shape. "

"I only mean, " said Mr Hobson, when he was interrupted by Mrs Belfield, who, out of all patience, now turned him out of the room by theshoulders, and, pulling Mr Simkins after, followed herself, and shutthe door, though Cecilia, much provoked, desired she would stay, anddeclared repeatedly that all her business was public. 

Belfield, who had, looked ready to murder them all during this shortscene, now approached Cecilia, and with an air of mingled spirit andrespect, said, "I am much grieved, much confounded, madam, that yourears should be offended by speeches so improper to reach them; yet ifit is possible I can have the honour of being of any use to you, in me, still, I hope, you feel you may confide. I am too distant from you insituation to give you reason to apprehend I can form any sinister viewsin serving you; and, permit me to add, I am too near you in mind, everto give you the pain of bidding me remember that distance. "

Cecilia then, extremely unwilling to shock a sensibility not moregenerous than jealous, determined to continue her enquiries, and, atthe same time, to prevent any further misapprehension, by revealing heractual situation. 

"I am sorry, Sir, " she answered, "to have occasioned this disturbance;Mrs Belfield, I find, is wholly unacquainted with the circumstancewhich now carries me abroad, or it would not have happened. "

Here a little noise in the passage interrupting her, she heard MrsBelfield, though in a low voice, say, "Hush, Sir, hush! you must notcome in just now; you've caught me, I confess, rather upon thelistening order; but to tell you the truth, I did not know what mightbe going forward. However, there's no admittance now, I assure you, formy son's upon particular business with a lady, and Mr Hobson and MrSimkins and I, have all been as good as turned out by them but justnow. "

Cecilia and Belfield, though they heard this speech with mutualindignation, had no time to mark or express it, as it was answeredwithout in a voice at once loud and furious, "_You_, madam, may becontent to listen here; pardon me if I am less humbly disposed!" Andthe door was abruptly opened by young Delvile!

Cecilia, who half screamed from excess of astonishment, would scarcely, even by the presence of Belfield and his mother, have been restrainedfrom flying to meet him, had his own aspect invited such a mark oftenderness; but far other was the case; when the door was open, hestopt short with a look half petrified, his feet seeming rooted to thespot upon which they stood. 

"I declare I ask pardon, ma'am, " cried Mrs Belfield, "but theinterruption was no fault of mine, for the gentleman would come in;and--"

"It is no interruption, madam;" cried Belfield, "Mr Delvile does menothing but honour. "

"I thank you, Sir!" said Delvile, trying to recover and come forward, but trembling violently, and speaking with the most frigid coldness. 

They were then, for a few instants, all silent; Cecilia, amazed by hisarrival, still more amazed by his behaviour, feared to speak lest hemeant not, as yet, to avow his marriage, and felt a thousandapprehensions that some new calamity had hurried him home: whileBelfield was both hurt by his strangeness, and embarrassed for the sakeof Cecilia; and his mother, though wondering at them all, was keptquiet by her son's looks. 

Delvile then, struggling for an appearance of more ease, said, "I seemto have made a general confusion here:--pray, I beg"--

"None at all, Sir, " said Belfield, and offered a chair to Cecilia. 

"No, Sir, " she answered, in a voice scarce audible, "I was just going. "And again rang the bell. 

"I fear I hurry you, madam?" cried Delvile, whose whole frame was nowshaking with uncontrollable emotion; "you are upon business--I ought tobeg your pardon--my entrance, I believe, was unseasonable. "--

"Sir!" cried she, looking aghast at this speech. 

"I should have been rather surprised, " he added, "to have met you here, so late, --so unexpectedly, --so deeply engaged--had I not happened tosee your servant in the street, who told me the honour I should belikely to have by coming. "

"Good God!--" exclaimed she, involuntarily; but, checking herself aswell as she could, she courtsied to Mrs Belfield, unable to speak toher, and avoiding even to look at Belfield, who respectfully hung back, she hastened out of the room: accompanied by Mrs Belfield, who againbegan the most voluble and vulgar apologies for the intrusion she hadmet with. 

Delvile also, after a moment's pause, followed, saying, "Give me leave, madam, to see you to your carriage. "

Cecilia then, notwithstanding Mrs Belfield still kept talking, could nolonger refrain saying, "Good heaven, what does all this mean?"

"Rather for _me_ is that question, " he answered, in such agitation hecould not, though he meant it, assist her into the chaise, "for mine, Ibelieve, is the greater surprise!"

"What surprise?" cried she, "explain, I conjure you!"

"By and bye I will, " he answered; "go on postilion. "

"Where, Sir?"

"Where you came from, I suppose. "

"What, Sir, back to Rumford?"

"Rumford!" exclaimed he, with encreasing disorder, "you came then fromSuffolk hither?--from Suffolk to this very house?"

"Good heaven!" cried Cecilia, "come into the chaise, and let me speakand hear to be understood!"

"Who is that now in it?"

"My Maid. "

"Your maid?--and she waits for you thus at the door?"--

"What, what is it you mean?"

"Tell the man, madam, whither to go. "

"I don't know myself--any where you please--do you order him. "

"I order him!--you came not hither to receive orders from _me_!--wherewas it you had purposed to rest?"

"I don't know--I meant to go to Mrs Hill's--I have no place taken. "--

"No place taken!" repeated he, in a voice faultering between passionand grief; "you purposed, then, to stay here?--I have perhaps drivenyou away?"

"Here!" cried Cecilia, mingling, in her turn, indignation withsurprise, "gracious heaven! what is it you mean to doubt?"

"Nothing!" cried he, with emphasis, "I never have had, I never _will_have a doubt! I will know, I will have _conviction_ for every thing!Postilion, drive to St James's-square!--to Mr Delvile's. There, madam, I will wait upon you. "

"No! stay, postilion!" called out Cecilia, seized with terrorinexpressible; "let me get out, let me speak with you at once!"

"It cannot be; I will follow you in a few minutes--drive on, postilion!"

"No, no!--I will not go--I dare not leave you--unkind Delvile!--what isit you suspect. "

"Cecilia, " cried he, putting his hand upon the chaise-door, "I haveever believed you spotless as an angel! and, by heaven! I believe youso still, in spite of appearances--in defiance of every thing!--Nowthen be satisfied;--I will be with you very soon. Meanwhile, take thisletter, I was just going to send to you. --Postilion, drive on, or be atyour peril!"

The man waited no further orders, nor regarded the prohibition ofCecilia, who called out to him without ceasing; but he would not listento her till he got to the end of the street; he then stopt, and shebroke the seal of her letter, and read, by the light of the lamps, enough to let her know that Delvile had written it upon the road fromDover to London, to acquaint her his mother was now better, and hadtaken pity of his suspense and impatience, and insisted upon his comingprivately to England, to satisfy himself fully about Mr Monckton, communicate his marriage to his father, and give those orders towardspreparing for its being made public, which his unhappy precipitation inleaving the kingdom had prevented. 

This letter, which, though written but a few hours before she receivedit, was full of tenderness, gratitude and anxiety for her happiness, instantly convinced her that his strange behaviour had been wholly theeffect of a sudden impulse of jealousy; excited by so unexpectedlyfinding her in town, at the very house where his father had assured himshe had an improper connexion, and alone, so suspiciously, with theyoung man affirmed to be her favourite. He knew nothing of theejectment, nothing of any reason for her leaving Suffolk, every thinghad the semblance of no motive but to indulge a private and criminalinclination. 

These thoughts, which confusedly, yet forcibly, rushed upon her mind, brought with them at once an excuse for his conduct, and an alarm forhis danger; "He must think, " she cried, "I came to town only to meet MrBelfield!" then, opening the chaise-door herself, she jumpt out, andran back into Portland-street, too impatient to argue with thepostilion to return with her, and stopt not till she came to MrsBelfield's house. 

She knocked at the door with violence; Mrs Belfield came to it herself;"Where, " cried she, hastily entering as she spoke, "are the gentlemen?"

"Lack-a-day! ma'am, " answered Mrs Belfield, "they are both gone out. "

"Gone out?--where to?--which way?"

"I am sure I can't tell, ma'am, no more than you can; but I am sadlyafraid they'll have a quarrel before they've done. "

"Oh heaven!" cried Cecilia, who now doubted not a second duel, "tellme, shew me, which way they went?"

"Why, ma'am, to let you into the secret, " answered Mrs Belfield, "onlyI beg you'll take no notice of it to my son, but, seeing them so muchout of sorts, I begged the favour of Mr Simkins, as Mr Hobson was goneout to his club, just to follow them, and see what they were after. "

Cecilia was much rejoiced this caution had been taken, and determinedto wait his return. She would have sent for the chaise to follow her;but Mrs Belfield kept no servant, and the maid of the house wasemployed in preparing the supper. 

When Mr Simkins came back, she learnt, after various interruptions fromMrs Belfield, and much delay from his own slowness and circumlocution, that he had pursued the two gentlemen to the * * coffee-house. 

She hesitated not a moment in resolving to follow them: she feared thefailure of any commission, nor did she know whom to entrust with one:and the danger was too urgent for much deliberation. She begged, therefore, that Mr. Simkins would walk with her to the chaise; buthearing that the coffee-house was another way, she desired Mrs Belfieldto let the servant run and order it to Mrs Roberts, in Fetterlane, andthen eagerly requested Mr Simkins to accompany her on foot till theymet with an hackney-coach. 

They then set out, Mr Simkins feeling proud and happy in being allowedto attend her, while Cecilia, glad of any protection, accepted hisoffer of continuing with her, even after she met with an hackney-coach. 

When she arrived at the coffee-house, she ordered the coachman todesire the master of it to come and speak with her. 

He came, and she hastily called out, "Pray, are two gentlemen here?"

"Here are several gentlemen here, madam. "

"Yes, yes, --but are two upon any business--any particular business--"

"Two gentlemen, madam, came about half an hour ago, and asked for aroom to themselves. "

"And where are they now?--are they up stairs?--down stairs?--where arethey?"

"One of them went away in about ten minutes, and the other soon after. "

Bitterly chagrined and disappointed, she knew not what step to takenext; but, after some consideration, concluded upon obeying Delvile'sown directions, and proceeding to St James's-square, where alone, now, she seemed to have any chance of meeting with him. Gladly, however, shestill consented to be accompanied by Mr Simkins, for her dread of beingalone, at so late an hour, in an hackney-coach, was invincible. WhetherDelvile himself had any authority for directing her to his father's, orwhether, in the perturbation of his new--excited and agonisingsensations of jealousy, he had forgotten that any authority wasnecessary, she knew not; nor could she now interest herself in thedoubt: a second scene, such as had so lately passed with Mr Monckton, occupied all her thoughts: she knew the too great probability that thehigh spirit of Belfield would disdain making the explanation whichDelvile in his present agitation might require, and the consequence ofsuch a refusal must almost inevitably be fatal. 

CHAPTER vii. 

A PURSUIT. 

The moment the porter came to the door, Cecilia eagerly called out fromthe coach, "Is Mr Delvile here?"

"Yes, madam, " he answered, "but I believe he is engaged. "

"Oh no matter for any engagement!" cried she, on the door, --I mustspeak to him this moment!"

"If you will please to step into the parlour, madam, I will tell hisgentleman you are here; but he will be much displeased if he isdisturbed without notice. "

"Ah heaven!" exclaimed she, "what Mr Delvile are you talking of?"

"My master, madam. "

Cecilia, who had got out of the coach, now hastily returned to it, andwas some time in too great agony to answer either the porter, whodesired some message, or the coachman, who asked whither he was todrive. To see Mr Delvile, unprotected by his son, and contrary to hisorders, appeared to her insupportable; yet to what place could she go?where was she likely to meet with Delvile? how could he find her if shewent to Mrs Hill's? and in what other house could she at present claimadmittance?

After a little recovering from this cruel shock, she ventured, thoughin a faultering voice, to enquire whether young Mr Delvile had beenthere?

"Yes, madam, " the porter answered; "we thought he was abroad, but hecalled just now, and asked if any lady had been at the house. He wouldnot even stay to go up to my master, and we have not dared tell him ofhis arrival. "

This a little revived her; to hear that he had actually been enquiringfor her, at least assured her of his safety from any immediateviolence, and she began to hope she might now possibly meet with himtime enough to explain all that had past in his absence, and occasionedher seemingly strange and suspicious situation at Belfield's. Shecompelled herself, therefore, to summon courage for seeing his father, since, as he had directed her to the house, she concluded he wouldreturn there to seek her, when he had wandered elsewhere to no purpose. 

She then, though with much timidity and reluctance, sent a message toMr Delvile to entreat a moment's audience. 

An answer was brought her that he saw no company so late at night. 

Losing now all dread of his reproaches, in her superior dread ofmissing Delvile, she called out earnestly to the man, "Tell him, Sir, Ibeseech him not to refuse me! tell him I have something to communicatethat requires his immediate attention!"

The servant obeyed; but soon returning, said his master desired him toacquaint her he was engaged every moment he stayed in town, and mustpositively decline seeing her. 

"Go to him again, " cried the harassed Cecilia, "assure him I come notfrom myself, but by the desire of one he most values: tell him Ientreat but permission to wait an hour in his house, and that I have noother place in the world whither I can go!"

Mr Delvile's own gentleman brought, with evident concern, the answer tothis petition; which was, that while the Honourable Mr Delvile washimself alive, he thought the desire of any other person concerning hishouse, was taking with him a very extraordinary liberty; and that hewas now going to bed, and had given orders to his servants to carry himno more messages whatsoever, upon pain of instant dismission. 

Cecilia now seemed totally destitute of all resource, and for a fewdreadful minutes, gave herself up to utter despondency: nor, when sherecovered her presence of mind, could she form any better plan thanthat of waiting in the coach to watch the return of Delvile. 

She told the coachman, therefore, to drive to a corner of the square, begging Mr Simkins to have patience, which he promised with muchreadiness, and endeavoured to give her comfort, by talking withoutcessation. 

She waited here near half an hour. She then feared the disappointmentof Delvile in not meeting her at first, had made him conclude she meantnot to obey his directions, and had perhaps urged him to call againupon Belfield, whom he might fancy privy to her non-appearance. Thiswas new horror to her, and she resolved at all risks to drive toPortland-street, and enquire if Belfield himself was returned home. Yet, lest they should mutually be pursuing each other all night, shestopt again at Mr Delvile's, and left word with the porter, that ifyoung Mr Delvile should come home, he would hear of the person he wasenquiring for at Mrs Roberts's in Fetter-lane. To Belfield's she didnot dare to direct him; and it was her intention, if there she procuredno new intelligence, to leave the same message, and then go to MrsRoberts without further delay. To make such an arrangement with aservant who knew not her connection with his young master, wasextremely repugnant to her; but the exigence was too urgent forscruples, and there was nothing to which she would not have consented, to prevent the fatal catastrophe she apprehended. 

When she came to Belfield's, not daring to enter the house, she sent inMr Simkins, to desire that Mrs Belfield would be so good as to step tothe coach door. 

"Is your son, madam, " she cried, eagerly, "come home? and is any bodywith him?"

"No, ma'am; he has never once been across the threshold since thatgentleman took him out; and I am half out of my wits to think"--

"Has that gentleman, " interrupted Cecilia, "been here anymore?"

"Yes, ma'am, that's what I was going to tell you; he came again justnow, and said"--

"Just now?--good heaven!--and which way is he gone?"

"Why he is after no good, I am afraid, for he was in a great passion, and would hardly hear any thing I said. "

"Pray, pray answer me quick!--where, which way did he go?"

"Why, he asked me if I knew whither my son was come from the * *coffee-house; why, says I, I'm sure I can't tell, for if it had notbeen for Mr Simkins, I should not so much as have known he ever went tothe * * coffee-house; however, I hope he a'n't come away, because if heis, poor Miss Beverley will have had all that trouble for nothing; forshe's gone after him in a prodigious hurry; and upon my only sayingthat, he seemed quite beside himself, and said, if I don't meet withyour son at the * * coffee-house myself, pray, when he comes in, tellhim I shall be highly obliged to him to call there; and then he wentaway, in as great a pet as ever you saw. "

Cecilia listened to this account with the utmost terror and misery; thesuspicions of Delvile would now be aggravated, and the message he hadleft for Belfield, would by him be regarded as a defiance. Again, however, to the * * coffee-house she instantly ordered the coach, animmediate explanation from herself seeming the only possible chance forpreventing the most horrible conclusion to this unfortunate andeventful evening. 

She was still accompanied by Mr Simkins, and, but that she attended tonothing he said, would not inconsiderably have been tormented by hisconversation. She sent him immediately into the coffee-room, to enquireif either of the gentlemen were then in the house. 

He returned to her with a waiter, who said, "One of them, madam, calledagain just now, but he only stopt to write a note, which he left to begiven to the gentleman who came with him at first. He is but thismoment gone, and I don't think he can be at the bottom of the street. "

"Oh drive then, gallop after him!"--cried Cecilia; "coachman! go thismoment!"

"My horses are tired, " said the man, "they have been out all day, andthey will gallop no further, if I don't stop and give them a drink. "

Cecilia, too full of hope and impatience for this delay, forced openthe door herself, and without saying another word, jumped out of thecarriage, with intention to run down the street; but the coachmanimmediately seizing her, protested she should not stir till he waspaid. 

In the utmost agony of mind at an hindrance by which she imaginedDelvile would be lost to her perhaps for ever, she put her hand in herpocket, in order to give up her purse for her liberty; but Mr Simkins, who was making a tiresome expostulation with the coachman, took ithimself, and declaring he would not see the lady cheated, began atedious calculation of his fare. 

"O pay him any thing!" cried she, "and let us be gone! an instant'sdelay may be fatal!"

Mr Simkins, too earnest to conquer the coachman to attend to herdistress, continued his prolix harangue concerning a disputed shilling, appealing to some gathering spectators upon the justice of his cause;while his adversary, who was far from sober, still held Cecilia, sayingthe coach had been hired for the lady, and he would be paid by herself. 

"Good God!" cried the agitated Cecilia, --"give him my purse at once!--give him every thing he desires!"--

The coachman, at this permission, encreased his demands, and MrSimkins, taking the number of his coach, protested he would summons himto the Court of Conscience the next morning. A gentleman, who then cameout of the coffee-house, offered to assist the lady, but the coachman, who still held her arm, swore he would have his right. 

"Let me go! let me pass!" cried she, with encreasing eagerness andemotion; "detain me at your peril!--release me this moment--only let merun to the end of the street, --good God! good Heaven! detain me not formercy!"

Mr Simkins, humbly desiring her not to be in haste, began a formalapology for his conduct; but the inebriety of the coachman becameevident; a mob was collecting; Cecilia, breathless with vehemence andterror, was encircled, yet struggled in vain to break away; and thestranger gentleman, protesting, with sundry compliments, he wouldhimself take care of her, very freely seized her hand. 

This moment, for the unhappy Cecilia, teemed with calamity; she waswholly overpowered; terror for Delvile, horror for herself, hurry, confusion, heat and fatigue, all assailing her at once, while all meansof repelling them were denied her, the attack was too strong for herfears, feelings, and faculties, and her reason suddenly, yet totallyfailing her, she madly called out, "He will be gone! he will be gone!and I must follow him to Nice!"

The gentleman now retreated; but Mr Simkins, who was talking to themob, did not hear her; and the coachman, too much intoxicated toperceive her rising frenzy, persisted in detaining her. 

"I am going to France!" cried she, still more wildly, "why do you stopme? he will die if I do not see him, he will bleed to death!"

The coachman, still unmoved, began to grow very abusive; but thestranger, touched by compassion, gave up his attempted gallantry, andMr Simkins, much astonished, entreated her not to be frightened: shewas, however, in no condition to listen to him; with a strengthhitherto unknown to her, she forcibly disengaged herself from herpersecutors; yet her senses were wholly disordered; she forgot hersituation, her intention, and herself; the single idea of Delvile'sdanger took sole possession of her brain, though all connection withits occasion was lost, and the moment she was released, she ferventlyclasped her hands, exclaiming, "I will yet heal his wound, even at thehazard of my life!" and springing forward, was almost instantly out ofsight. 

Mr Simkins now, much alarmed, and earnestly calling after her, enteredinto a compromise with the coachman, that he might attend her; but thelength of his negociation defeated its purpose, and before he was atliberty to follow her, all trace was lost by which he might haveovertaken her. He stopt every passenger he met to make enquiries, butthough they led him on some way, they led him on in vain; and, after auseless and ill-managed pursuit, he went quietly to his own home, determining to acquaint Mrs Belfield with what had happened the nextmorning. 

Mean while the frantic Cecilia escaped both pursuit and insult by thevelocity of her own motion. She called aloud upon Delvile as she flewto the end of the street. No Delvile was there!--she turned the corner;yet saw nothing of him; she still went on, though unknowing whither, the distraction of her mind every instant growing greater, from theinflammation of fatigue, heat, and disappointment. She was spoken torepeatedly; she was even caught once or twice by her riding habit; butshe forced herself along by her own vehement rapidity, not hearing whatwas said, nor heeding what was thought. Delvile, bleeding by the arm ofBelfield, was the image before her eyes, and took such full possessionof her senses, that still, as she ran on, she fancied it in view. Shescarce touched the ground; she scarce felt her own motion; she seemedas if endued with supernatural speed, gliding from place to place, fromstreet to street; with no consciousness of any plan, and following noother direction than that of darting forward where-ever there was mostroom, and turning back when she met with any obstruction; till quitespent and exhausted, she abruptly ran into a yet open shop, where, breathless and panting, she sunk upon the floor, and, with a lookdisconsolate and helpless, sat for some time without speaking. 

The people of the house, concluding at first she was a woman of thetown, were going roughly to turn her out; but soon seeing theirmistake, by the evident distraction of her air and manner, theyenquired of some idle people who, late as it was, had followed her, ifany of them knew who she was, or whence she came?

They could give no account of her, but supposed she was broke loosefrom Bedlam. 

Cecilia then, wildly starting up, exclaimed, "No, no, --I am not mad, --I am going to Nice--to my husband. "

"She's quite crazy, " said the man of the house, who was a Pawn-Broker;"we had better get rid of her before she grows mischievous--"

"She's somebody broke out from a private mad house, I dare say, " said aman who had followed her into the shop; "and if you were to take careof her a little while, ten to one but you'll get a reward for it. "

"She's a gentlewoman, sure enough, " said the mistress of the house, "because she's got such good things on. "

And then, under pretence of trying to find some direction to her upon aletter, or paper, she insisted upon searching her pockets: here, however, she was disappointed in her expectations: her purse was in thecustody of Mr Simkins, but neither her terror nor distress had savedher from the daring dexterity of villainy, and her pockets, in the mob, had been rifled of whatever else they contained. The woman thereforehesitated some time whether to take charge of her or, not: but beingurged by the man who made the proposal, and who said they might dependupon seeing her soon advertised, as having escaped from her keepers, they ventured to undertake her. 

Mean while she endeavoured again to get out, calling aloud upon Delvileto rescue her, but so wholly bereft of sense and recollection, shecould give no account who she was, whence she came, or whither shewished to go. 

They then carried her up stairs, and attempted to make her lie downupon a bed; but supposing she refused because it was not of straw, theydesisted; and, taking away the candle, locked the door, and all went torest. 

In this miserable condition, alone and raving, she was left to pass thenight! in the early part of it, she called upon Delvile withoutintermission, beseeching him to come to her defence in one moment, anddeploring his death the next; but afterwards, her strength being whollyexhausted by these various exertions and fatigues, she threw herselfupon the floor, and lay for some minutes quite still. Her head thenbegan to grow cooler, as the fever into which terror and immoderateexercise had thrown her abated, and her memory recovered its functions. 

This was, however, only a circumstance of horror to her: she foundherself shut up in a place of confinement, without light, withoutknowledge where she was, and not a human being near her!

Yet the same returning reason which enabled her to take this view ofher own situation, brought also to her mind that in which she had leftDelvile;--under all the perturbation of new-kindled jealousy, justcalling upon Belfield, --Belfield, tenacious of his honour even morethan himself, --to satisfy doubts of which the very mention would bereceived as a challenge!

"Oh yet, oh yet, " cried she, "let me fly and overtake them!--I may findthem before morning, and to-night it must surely have been too late forthis work of death!"

She then arose to feel for the door, and succeeded; but it was locked, and no effort she could make enabled her to open it. 

Her agony was unspeakable; she called out with violence upon the peopleof the house, conjured them to set her at liberty, offered any rewardfor their assistance, and threatened them with a prosecution ifdetained. 

Nobody, however, came near her: some slept on notwithstanding all thedisturbance she could make, and others; though awakened by her cries, concluded them the ravings of a mad woman, and listened not to what shesaid. 

Her head was by no means in a condition to bear this violence ofdistress; every pulse was throbbing, every vein seemed bursting, herreason, so lately returned, could not bear the repetition of such ashock, and from supplicating for help with all the energy of feelingand understanding, she soon continued the cry from mere vehemence ofdistraction. 

Thus dreadfully passed the night; and in the morning, when the woman ofthe house came to see after her, she found her raving with such frenzy, and desperation, that her conscience was perfectly at ease in thetreatment she had given her, being now firmly satisfied she requiredthe strictest confinement. 

She still, however, tried to get away; talked of Delvile withoutcessation, said she should be too late to serve him, told the woman shedesired but to prevent murder, and repeatedly called out, "Oh belovedof my heart! wait but a moment, and I will snatch thee fromdestruction!"

Mrs Wyers, this woman, now sought no longer to draw from her whence shecame, or who she was, but heard her frantic exclamations without anyemotion, contentedly concluding that her madness was incurable: andthough she was in a high fever, refused all sustenance, and had everysymptom of an alarming and dangerous malady, she was fully persuadedthat her case was that of decided insanity, and had not any notion oftemporary or accidental alienation of reason. 

All she could think of by way of indulgence to her, was to bring her aquantity of straw, having heard that mad people were fond of it; andputting it in a heap in one corner of the room, she expected to see hereagerly fly at it. 

Cecilia, however, distracted as she was, was eager for nothing but toescape, which was constantly her aim, alike when violent or when quiet. Mrs Wyers, finding this, kept her closely confined, and the door alwayslocked, whether absent or present. 

CHAPTER vii. 

AN ENCOUNTER. 

Two whole days passed thus; no enquiries reached Mrs Wyers, and shefound in the news-papers no advertisement. Meanwhile Cecilia grew worseevery moment, tasted neither drink nor food, raved incessantly, calledout twenty times in a breath, "Where is he? which way is he gone?" andimplored the woman by the most pathetic remonstrances, to save herunhappy Delvile, _dearer to her than life, more precious than peace orrest_!

At other times she talked of her marriage, of the displeasure of hisfamily, and of her own remorse; entreated the woman not to betray her, and promised to spend the remnant of her days in the heaviness ofsorrow and contrition. 

Again her fancy roved, and Mr Monckton took sole possession of it. Shereproached him for his perfidy, she bewailed that he was massacred, shewould not a moment out-live him, and wildly declared _her last remainsshould moulder in his hearse_! And thus, though naturally and commonlyof a silent and quiet disposition, she was now not a moment still, forthe irregular starts of a terrified and disordered imagination, werechanged into the constant ravings of morbid delirium. 

The woman, growing uneasy from her uncertainty of pay for her trouble, asked the advice of some of her friends what was proper for her to do;and they counselled her to put an advertisement into the papers herselfthe next morning. 

The following, therefore, was drawn up and sent to the printer of theDaily Advertiser. 

MADNESS. 

Whereas a crazy young lady, tall, fair complexioned, with blue eyes andlight hair, ran into the Three Blue Balls, in----street, on Thursdaynight, the 2nd instant, and has been kept there since out of charity. She was dressed in a riding habit. Whoever she belongs to is desired tosend after her immediately. She has been treated with the utmost careand tenderness. She talks much of some person by the name of Delvile. 

N. B. --She had no money about her. 

May, 1780. 

This had but just been sent off, when Mr Wyers, the man of the house, coming up stairs, said, "Now we shall have two of them, for here's thecrazy old gentleman below, that says he has just heard in theneighbourhood of what has happened to us, and he desires to see thepoor lady. "

"It's as well let him come up, then, " answered Mrs Wyers, "for he goesto all sort of places and people, and ten to one but he'll bustle abouttill he finds out who she is. "

Mr Wyers then went down stairs to send him up. 

He came instantly. It was Albany, who in his vagrant rambles, havingheard an unknown mad lady was at this pawn-broker's, came, with hiscustomary eagerness to visit and serve the unhappy, to see what couldbe done for her. 

When he entered the room, she was sitting upon the bed, her eyesearnestly fixed upon the window, from which she was privately indulginga wish to make her escape. Her dress was in much disorder, her finehair was dishevelled, and the feathers of her riding hat were brokenand half falling down, some shading her face, others reaching to hershoulder. 

"Poor lady!" cried Albany, approaching her, "how long has she been inthis state?"

She started at the sound of a new voice, she looked round, --but whatwas the astonishment of Albany to see who it was!--He stept back, -hecame forward, --he doubted his own senses, --he looked at her earnestly, --he turned from her to look at the woman of the house, --he cast hiseyes round the room itself, and then, lifting up his hands, "O sight ofwoe!" he cried, "the generous and good! the kind reliever of distress!the benign sustainer of misery!--is _This_ Cecilia!"--

Cecilia, imperfectly recollecting, though not understanding him, sunkdown at his feet, tremblingly called out, "Oh, if he is yet to besaved, if already he is not murdered, --go to him! fly after him! youwill presently overtake him, he is only in the next street, I left himthere myself, his sword drawn, and covered with human blood!"

"Sweet powers of kindness and compassion!" cried the old man, "lookupon this creature with pity! she who raised the depressed, she whocheared the unhappy! she whose liberal hand turned lamentations intojoy! who never with a tearless eye could hear the voice of sorrow!--is_This_ she herself!--can _This_ be Cecilia!" "O do not wait to talk!"cried she, "go to him now, or you will never see him more! the hand ofdeath is on him, --cold, clay-cold is its touch! he is breathing hislast--Oh murdered Delvile! massacred husband of my heart! groan not sopiteously! fly to him, and weep over him!--fly to him and pluck theponiard from his wounded bosom!"

"Oh sounds of anguish and horror!" cried the, melted moralist, tearsrunning quick down his rugged cheeks; "melancholy indeed is this sight, humiliating to morality! such is human strength, such human felicity!--weak as our virtues, frail as our guilty natures!"

"Ah, " cried she, more wildly, "no one will save me now! I am married, and no one will listen to me! ill were the auspices under which I gavemy hand! Oh it was a work of darkness, unacceptable and offensive! ithas been sealed, therefore, with blood, and to-morrow it will be signedwith murder!"

"Poor distracted creature!" exclaimed he, "thy pangs I have felt, butthy innocence I have forfeited!--my own wounds bleed afresh, --my ownbrain threatens new frenzy. "--

Then, starting up, "Good woman, " he added, "kindly attend her, --I willseek out her friends, put her into bed, comfort, sooth, compose her. --I will come to you again, and as soon as I can. "

He then hurried away. 

"Oh hour of joy!" cried Cecilia, "he is gone to rescue him! oh blissfulmoment! he will yet be snatched from slaughter!"

The woman lost not an instant in obeying the orders she had received;she was put into bed, and nothing was neglected, as far as she hadpower and thought, to give a look of decency and attention to heraccommodations. 

He had not left them an hour, when Mary, the maid who had attended herfrom Suffolk, came to enquire for her lady. Albany, who was nowwandering over the town in search of some of her friends, and whoentered every house where he imagined she was known, had hastened tothat of Mrs Hill the first of any, as he was well acquainted with herobligations to Cecilia; there, Mary herself, by the directions whichher lady had given Mrs Belfield, had gone; and there, in the utmostastonishment and uneasiness, had continued till Albany brought news ofher. 

She was surprised and afflicted beyond measure, not only at the stateof her mind, and her health, but to find her in a bed and an apartmentso unsuitable to her rank of life, and so different to what she hadever been accustomed. She wept bitterly while she enquired at the bed-side how her lady did, but wept still more, when, without answering, orseeming to know her, Cecilia started up, and called out, "I must beremoved this moment! I must go to St James's-square, --if I stay aninstant longer, the passing-bell will toll, and then how shall I be intime for the funeral?"

Mary, alarmed and amazed, turned hastily from her to the woman of thehouse, who calmly said, the lady was only in a raving fit, and must notbe minded. 

Extremely frightened at this intelligence, she entreated her to bequiet and lie still. But Cecilia grew suddenly so violent, that forceonly could keep her from rising; and Mary, unused to dispute hercommands, prepared to obey them. 

Mrs Wyers now in her turn opposed in vain; Cecilia was peremptory, andMary became implicit, and, though not without much difficulty, she wasagain dressed in her riding habit. This operation over, she movedtowards the door, the temporary strength of delirium giving, her ahardiness that combated fever, illness, fatigue, and feebleness. Mary, however averse and fearful, assisted her, and Mrs Wyers, compelled bythe obedience of her own servant, went before them to order a chair. 

Cecilia, however, felt her weakness when she attempted to move downstairs; her feet tottered, and her head became dizzy; she leaned itagainst Mary, who called aloud for more help, and made her sit downtill it came. Her resolution, however, was not to be altered; astubbornness, wholly foreign to her genuine character, now made herstern and positive; and Mary, who thought her submission indispensable, cried, but did not offer to oppose her. 

Mr and Mrs Wyers both came up to assist in supporting her, and Mr Wyersoffered to carry her in his arms; but she would not consent; when shecame to the bottom of the stairs, her head grew worse, she again lentit upon Mary, but Mr Wyers was obliged to hold them both. She still, however, was firm in her determination, and was making another effortto proceed, when Delvile rushed hastily into the shop. 

He had just encountered Albany; who, knowing his acquaintance, thoughignorant of his marriage, with Cecilia, had informed him where to seekher. 

He was going to make enquiry if he was come to the right house, when heperceived her, --feeble, shaking, leaning upon one person, and halfcarried by another!--he started back, staggered, gasped for breath, --but finding they were proceeding, advanced with trepidation, furiouslycalling out, "Hold! stop!--what is it you are doing? Monsters of savagebarbarity, are you murdering my wife?"

The well-known voice no sooner struck the ears of Cecilia, thaninstantly recollecting it, she screamed, and, is suddenly endeavouringto spring forward, fell to the ground. 

Delvile had vehemently advanced to catch her in his arms and save herfall, which her unexpected quickness had prevented her attendants fromdoing; but the sight of her changed complection, and the wildness ofher eyes and air, again made him start, --his blood froze through hisveins, and he stood looking at her, cold and almost petrified. 

Her own recollection of him seemed lost already; and exhausted by thefatigue she had gone through in dressing and coming down stairs, sheremained still and quiet, forgetting her design of proceeding, andforming no new one for returning. 

Mary, to whom, as to all her fellow servants, the marriage of Ceciliahad been known, before she left the country, now desired from Delviledirections what was to be done. 

Delvile, starting suddenly at this call from the deepest horror intothe most desperate rage, fiercely exclaimed, "Inhuman wretches!unfeeling, execrable wretches, what is it you have done to her? howcame she hither?--who brought her?--who dragged her?--by what infamoususage has she been sunk into this state?"

"Indeed, sir, I don't know!" cried Mary. 

"I assure you, sir, " said Mrs Wyers, "the lady--"

"Peace!" cried he, furiously, "I will not hear your falsehoods!--peace, and begone!"--

Then, casting himself upon the ground by her side, "Oh my Cecilia, " hecried, "where hast thou been thus long? how have I lost thee? whatdreadful calamity has befallen thee?--answer me, my love! raise yoursweet head and answer me!--oh speak!--say to me any thing; thebitterest words will be mercy to this silence!"---

Cecilia then, suddenly looking up, called out with great quickness, "Who are you?"

"Who am I!" cried he, amazed and affrighted. 

"I should be glad you would go away, " cried she, in a hurrying manner, "for you are quite unknown to me. "

Delvile, unconscious of her insanity, and attributing to resentmentthis aversion and repulse, hastily moved from her, mournfullyanswering, "Well indeed may you disclaim me, refuse all forgiveness, load me with hatred and reproach, and consign me to eternal anguish! Ihave merited severer punishment still; I have behaved like a monster, and I am abhorrent to myself!"

Cecilia now, half rising, and regarding him with mingled terror andanger, eagerly exclaimed, "If you do not mean to mangle and destroy me, begone this instant. "

"To mangle you!" repeated Delvile, shuddering, "how horrible!--but Ideserve it!--look not, however, so terrified, and I will tear myselfaway from you. Suffer me but to assist in removing you from this place, and I will only watch you at a distance, and never see you more tillyou permit me to approach you. "

"Why, why, " cried Cecilia, with a look of perplexity and impatience, "will you not tell me your name, and where you come from?"

"Do you not know me?" said he, struck with new horror; "or do you onlymean to kill me by the question?"

"Do you bring me any message from Mr Monckton?"

"From Mr Monckton?--no; but he lives and will recover. "

"I thought you had been Mr Monckton yourself. "

"Too cruel, yet justly cruel Cecilia!--is then Delvile utterlyrenounced?--the guilty, the unhappy Delvile!--is he cast off for ever?have you driven him wholly from your heart? do you deny him even aplace in your remembrance?"

"Is your name, then, Delvile?"

"O what is it you mean? is it me or my name you thus disown?"

"'Tis a name, " cried she, sitting up, "I well remember to have heard, and once I loved it, and three times I called upon it in the dead ofnight. And when I was cold and wretched, I cherished it; and when I wasabandoned and left alone, I repeated it and sung to it. "

"All-gracious powers!" cried Delvile, "her reason is utterly gone!"And, hastily rising, he desperately added, "what is death to thisblow?--Cecilia, I am content to part with thee!"

Mary now, and Mrs Wyers, poured upon him eagerly an account of herillness, and insanity, her desire of removal, and their inability tocontrol her. 

Delvile, however, made no answer; he scarce heard them: the deepestdespair took possession of his mind, and, rooted to the spot where hestood, he contemplated iii dreadful stillness the fallen and alteredobject of his best hopes and affections; already in her faded cheeksand weakened frame, his agonising terror read the quick impendingdestruction of all his earthly happiness! the sight was too much forhis fortitude, and almost for his understanding; and when his woebecame utterable, he wrung his hands, and groaning aloud, called out, "Art thou gone so soon! my wife! my Cecilia! have I lost thee already?"

Cecilia, with utter insensibility to what was passing, now suddenly, and with a rapid yet continued motion, turned her head from side toside, her eyes wildly glaring, and yet apparently regarding nothing. 

"Dreadful! dreadful!" exclaimed Delvile, "what a sight is this!" andturning from her to the people of the house, he angrily said, "why isshe here upon the floor? could you not even allow her a bed? Whoattends her? Who waits upon her? Why has nobody sent for help?--Don'tanswer me, --I will not hear you, fly this moment for a physician, --bring two, bring three--bring all you can find?"

Then, still looking from Cecilia, whose sight he could no longersupport, he consulted with Mary whither she should be conveyed: and, asthe night was far advanced, and no place was prepared for herelsewhere, they soon agreed that she could only be removed up stairs. 

Delvile now attempted to carry her in his arms; but trembling andunsteady, he had not strength to sustain her; yet not enduring tobehold the helplessness he could not assist, he conjured them to becareful and gentle, and, committing her to their trust, ran out himselffor a physician. 

Cecilia resisted them with her utmost power, imploring them not to buryher alive, and averring she had received intelligence they meant toentomb her with Mr Monckton. 

They put her, however, to bed, but her raving grew still more wild andincessant. 

Delvile soon returned with a physician, but had not courage to attendhim to her room. He waited for him at the foot of the stairs, where, hastily stopping him, "Well, sir, " he cried, "is it not all over? is it not impossible shecan live?"

"She is very ill, indeed, sir, " he answered, "but I have givendirections which perhaps---"

"_Perhaps_!" interrupted Delvile, shuddering, "do not stab me with sucha word!"

"She is very delirious, " he continued, "but as her fever is very high, that is not so material. If the orders I have given take effect, andthe fever is got under, all the rest will be well of course. "

He then went away; leaving Delvile as much thunderstruck by answers soalarming, as if he had consulted him in full hope, and without evensuspicion of her danger. 

The moment he recovered from this shock, he flew out of the house formore advice. 

He returned and brought with him two physicians. They confirmed thedirections already given, but would pronounce nothing decisively of hersituation. 

Delvile, half mad with the acuteness of his misery, charged them allwith want of skill, and wrote instantly into the country for Dr Lyster. 

He went out himself in search of a messenger to ride off express, though it was midnight, with his letter; and then, returning, he washastening to her room, but, while yet at the door, hearing her stillraving, his horror conquered his eagerness, and, hurrying down stairs, he spent the remnant of the long and seemingly endless night in theshop. 

CHAPTER ix. 

A TRIBUTE. 

Mean while Cecilia went through very severe discipline, sometimesstrongly opposing it, at other times scarce sensible what was done toher. 

The whole of the next day passed in much the same manner, neither didthe next night bring any visible alteration. She had now nurses andattendants even more than sufficient, for Delvile had no relief butfrom calling in more help. His terror of again seeing her encreasedwith his forbearance; the interview which had already past had almosttorn him asunder, and losing all courage for attempting to enter herroom, he now spent almost all his time upon the stairs which led to it. Whenever she was still, he seated himself at her chamber door, where, if he could hear her breathe or move, a sudden hope of her recoverygave to him a momentary extasy that recompensed all his sufferings. Butthe instant she spoke, unable to bear the sound of so loved a voiceuttering nothing but the incoherent ravings of lightheadedness, hehastened down stairs, and flying out of the house, walked in theneighbouring streets, till he could again gather courage to enquire orto listen how she went on. 

The following morning, however, Dr Lyster came, and every hope revived. He flew to embrace him, told him instantly his marriage with Cecilia, and besought him by some superior effort of his extraordinary abilitiesto save him the distraction of her loss. 

"My good friend, " cried the worthy Doctor, "what is this you ask of me?and how can this poor young lady herself want advice more than you do?Do you think these able physicians actually upon the spot, with all theexperience of full practice in London to assist their skill, want apetty Doctor out of the country to come and teach them what is right?"

"I have more reliance upon you, " cried Delvile, than upon the wholefaculty; come, therefore, and prescribe for her, --take some new course"--

"Impossible, my good Sir, impossible! I must not lose my wits fromvanity, because you have lost yours from affliction. I could not refuseto come to you when you wrote to me with such urgency, and I will nowgo and see the young lady, as a _friend_, with all my heart. I am sorryfor you at my soul, Mr Mortimer! She is a lovely young creature, andhas an understanding, for her years and sex, unequalled. "

"Never mention her to me!" cried the impatient Delvile, "I cannot bearit! Go up to her, dear Doctor, and if you want a consultation, send, ifyou please, for every physician in town. "

Dr Lyster desired only that those who had already attended might besummoned; and then, giving up to his entreaties the accustomedceremonial of waiting for them, he went to Cecilia. 

Delvile did not dare accompany him; and so well was he acquainted withhis plainness and sincerity, that though he expected his return witheagerness, he no sooner heard him upon the stairs, than fearing to knowhis opinion, he hastily snatched up his hat, and rushed vehemently outof the house to avoid him. 

He continued to walk about the streets, till even the dread of ill newswas less horrible to him than this voluntary suspense, and then hereturned to the house. 

He found Dr Lyster in a small back parlour, which Mrs Wyers, findingshe should now be well paid, had appropriated for Delvile's use. 

Delvile, putting his hand upon the Doctor's shoulder, said, "Well, mydear Dr Lyster, _you_, still, I hope"--

"I would I could make you easy!" interrupted the Doctor; "yet, if youare rational, one comfort, at all events, I can give you; the crisisseems approaching, and either she will recover, or before to-morrowmorning"---

"Don't go on, Sir!" cried Delvile, with mingled rage and horror, "Iwill not have her days limited! I sent not for you to give me such anaccount!"

And again he flew out of the house, leaving Dr Lyster unaffectedlyconcerned for him, and too kind-hearted and too wise to be offended atthe injustice of immoderate sorrow. 

In a few minutes, however, from the effect rather of despair thanphilosophy, Delvile grew more composed, and waited upon Dr Lyster toapologize for his behaviour. He received his hearty forgiveness, andprevailed upon him to continue in town till the whole was decided. 

About noon, Cecilia, from the wildest rambling and most perpetualagitation, sunk suddenly into a state of such utter insensibility, thatshe appeared unconscious even of her existence; and but that shebreathed, she might already have passed for being dead. 

When Delvile heard this, he could no longer endure even his post uponthe stairs; he spent his whole time in wandering about the streets, orstopping in Dr Lyster's parlour to enquire if all was over. 

That humane physician, not more alarmed at the danger of Cecilia, thangrieved at the situation of Delvile, thought the present fearful crisisat least offered an opportunity of reconciling him with his father. Hewaited, therefore, upon that gentleman in St James's-square, andopenly informed him of the dangerous state of Cecilia, and the miseryof his son. 

Mr Delvile, though he would gladly, to have annulled an alliance heheld disgraceful to his family, have received intelligence that Ceciliawas no more, was yet extremely disconcerted to hear of sufferings towhich his own refusal of an asylum he was conscious had largelycontributed; and after a haughty struggle between tenderness and wrath, he begged the advice of Dr Lyster how his son might be drawn from sucha scene. 

Dr Lyster, who well knew Delvile was too desperate to be tractable, proposed surprising him into an interview by their returning together:Mr Delvile, however apprehensive and relenting, conceded mostunwillingly to a measure he held beneath him, and, when he came to theshop, could scarce be persuaded to enter it. Mortimer, at that time, was taking a solitary ramble; and Dr Lyster, to complete the work hehad begun of subduing the hard pride of his father, contrived, underpretence of waiting for him, to conduct him to the room of theinvalide. 

Mr Delvile, who knew not whither he was going, at first sight of thebed and the attendants, was hastily retreating; but the changed andlivid face of Cecilia caught his eye, and, struck with suddenconsternation, he involuntarily stopt. 

"Look at the poor young lady!" cried Dr Lyster; "can you wonder a sightsuch as this should make Mr Mortimer forget every thing else?"

She was wholly insensible, but perfectly quiet; she seemed todistinguish nothing, and neither spoke nor moved. 

Mr Delvile regarded her with the utmost horror: the refuge he soimplacably refused her on the night when her intellects weredisordered, he would now gladly have offered at the expence of almostsimilar sufferings, to have relieved himself from those rising pangswhich called him author of this scene of woe. His pride, his pomp, hisancient name, were now sunk in his estimation; and while he consideredhimself the destroyer of this unhappy young creature, he would havesacrificed them all to have called himself her protector. Little is theboast of insolence when it is analysed by the conscience! bitter is theagony of self-reproach, where misery follows hardness of heart! yet, when the first painful astonishment from her situation abated, theremorse she excited being far stronger than the pity, he gave an angryglance at Dr Lyster for betraying him into such a sight, and hastilyleft the room. 

Delvile, who was now impatiently waiting to see Dr Lyster in the littleparlour, alarmed at the sound of a new step upon the stairs, came outto enquire who had been admitted. When he saw his father, he shrunkback; but Mr Delvile, no longer supported by pride, and unable torecover from the shock he had just received, caught him in his arms, and said "Oh come home to me, my son! this is a place to destroy you!"

"Ah, Sir, " cried Delvile, "think not of me now!--you must shew me nokindness; I am not in a state to bear it!" And, forcibly breaking fromhim, he hurried out of the house. 

Mr Delvile, all the father awakened in his bosom, saw his departurewith more dread than anger; and returned himself to St James's-square, tortured with parental fears, and stung by personal remorse, lamentinghis own inflexibility, and pursued by the pale image of Cecilia. 

She was still in this unconscious state, and apparently as free fromsuffering as from enjoyment, when a new voice was suddenly heardwithout, exclaiming, "Oh where is she? where is she? where is my dearMiss Beverley?" and Henrietta Belfield ran wildly into the room. 

The advertisement in the news-papers had at once brought her to town, and directed her to the house: the mention that the lost lady _talkedmuch of a person by the name of Delvile_, struck her instantly to meanCecilia; the description corresponded with this idea, and the accountof the dress confirmed it: Mr Arnott, equally terrified with herself, had therefore lent her his chaise to learn the truth of thisconjecture, and she had travelled all night. 

Flying up to the bedside, "Who is this?" she cried, "this is not MissBeverley?" and then screaming with unrestrained horror, "Oh mercy!mercy!" she called out, "yes, it is indeed! and nobody would know her!--her own mother would not think her her child!"

"You must come away, Miss Belfield, " said Mary, "you must indeed, --thedoctors all say my lady must not be disturbed. "

"Who shall take me away?" cried she, angrily, "nobody Mary! not all thedoctors in the world! Oh sweet Miss Beverley! I will lie down by yourside, --I will never quit you while you live, --and I wish, I wish Icould die to save your precious life!"

Then, leaning over her, and wringing her hands, "Oh I shall break myheart, " she cried, "to see her in this condition! Is this the so happyMiss Beverley, that I thought every body born to give joy to? the MissBeverley that seemed queen of the whole world! yet so good and sogentle, so kind to the meanest person! excusing every body's faults buther own, and telling them how they might mend, and trying to make themas good as herself!--Oh who would know her! who would know her! whathave they done to you, my beloved Miss Beverley? how have they alteredand disfigured you in this wicked and barbarous manner?"

In the midst of this simple yet pathetic testimony, to the worth andvarious excellencies of Cecilia, Dr Lyster came into the room. Thewomen all flocked around him, except Mary, to vindicate themselves fromany share in permitting this new comer's entrance and behaviour; butMary only told him who she was, and said, that if her lady was wellenough to know her, there was nobody she was certain she would havebeen so glad to see. 

"Young lady, " said the doctor, "I would advise you to walk into anotherroom till you are a little more composed. "

"Every body, I find, is for hurrying me away, " cried the sobbingHenrietta, whose honest heart swelled with its own affectionateintegrity; "but they might all save themselves the trouble, for go Iwill not!"

"This is very wrong, " said the doctor, "and must not be suffered: doyou call it friendship to come about a sick person in this manner?"

"Oh my Miss Beverley!" cried Henrietta, "do you hear how they allupbraid me? how they all want to force me away from you, and to hinderme even from looking at you! Speak for me, sweet lady! speak for meyourself! tell them the poor Henrietta will not do you any harm; tellthem she only wishes just to sit by you, and to see you!--I will holdby this dear hand, --I will cling to it till the last minute; and youwill not, I know you will not, give orders to have it taken away fromme!"

Dr Lyster, though his own good nature was much affected by this fondsorrow, now half angrily represented to her the impropriety ofindulging it: but Henrietta, unused to disguise or repress herfeelings, grew only the more violent, the more she was convinced ofCecilia's danger: "Oh look but at her, " she exclaimed, "and take mefrom her if you can! see how her sweet eyes are fixed! look but what achange in her complexion!--She does not see me, she does not know me, --she does not hear me! her hand seems quite lifeless already, her faceis all fallen away!--Oh that I had died twenty deaths before I hadlived to see this sight!--poor wretched Henrietta, thou bast now nofriend left in the world! thou mayst go and lie down in some corner, and no one will come and say to thee a word of comfort!"

"This must not be!" said Dr Lyster, "you must take her away. "

"You shall not!" cried she, desperately, "I will stay with her till shehas breathed her last, and I will stay with her still longer! and ifshe was to speak to you this moment, she would tell you that she choseit. She loved the poor Henrietta, and loved to have her near her; andwhen she was ill, and in much distress, she never once bid me leave herroom. Is it not true, my sweet Miss Beverley? do you not know it to betrue? Oh look not so dreadfully! turn to your unhappy Henrietta;sweetest, best of ladies! will you not speak to her once more? will younot say to her one single word?"

Dr Lyster now grew very angry, and telling her such violence might havefatal consequences, frightened her into more order, and drew her awayhimself. He had then the kindness to go with her into another room, where, when her first vehemence was spent, his remonstrances andreasoning brought her to a sense of the danger she might occasion, andmade her promise not to return to the room till she had gained strengthto behave better. 

When Dr Lyster went again to Delvile, he found him greatly alarmed byhis long stay; he communicated to him briefly what had passed, andcounselled him to avoid encreasing his own grief by the sight of whatwas suffered by this unguarded and ardent girl. Delvile readilyassented, for the weight of his own woe was too heavy to bear anyaddition. 

Henrietta now, kept in order by Dr Lyster, contented herself with onlysitting on the bed, without attempting to speak, and with no otheremployment than alternately looking at her sick friend, and coveringher streaming eyes with her handkerchief; from time to time quittingthe room wholly, for the relief of sobbing at liberty and aloud inanother. 

But, in the evening, while Delvile and Dr Lyster were taking one oftheir melancholy rambles, a new scene was acted in the apartment of thestill senseless Cecilia. Albany suddenly made his entrance into it, accompanied by three children, two girls and one boy, from the ages offour to six, neatly dressed, clean, and healthy. 

"See here!"' cried he, as he came in, "see here what I've brought you!raise, raise your languid head, and look this way! you think me rigid, --an enemy to pleasure, austere, harsh, and a forbidder of joy: look atthis sight, and see the contrary! who shall bring you comfort, joy, pleasure, like this? three innocent children, clothed and fed by yourbounty!"

Henrietta and Mary, who both knew him well, were but little surprisedat anything he said or did, and the nurses presumed not to interferebut by whispers. 

Cecilia, however, observed nothing that passed; and Albany, somewhatastonished, approached nearer to the bed; "Wilt thou not speak?" hecried. 

"She can't, Sir, " said one of the women; "she has been speechless manyhours. "

The air of triumph with which he had entered the room was now changedinto disappointment and consternation. For some minutes he thoughtfullyand sorrowfully contemplated her, and then, with a deep sigh, said, "How will the poor rue this day!" Then, turning to the children, who, awed by this scene, were quiet from terror. "Alas!" he said, "yehelpless babes, ye know not what you have lost: presumptuously we came;unheeded we must return! I brought you to be seen by your benefactress, but she is going where she will find many such. "

He then led them away; but, suddenly coming back, "I may see her, perhaps, no more! shall I not, then, pray for her? Great and aweful isthe change she is making; what are human revolutions, how pitiful, howinsignificant, compared with it!--Come, little babies, come; with giftshas she often blessed _you_, with wishes bless _her_! Come, let uskneel round her bed; let us all pray for her together; lift up yourinnocent hands, and for all of you I will speak. "

He then made the children obey his injunctions, and having knelthimself, while Henrietta and Mary instantly did the same, "Sweetflower!" he cried, "untimely cropt in years, yet in excellence mature!early decayed in misery, yet fragrant in innocence! Gentle be thy exit, for unsullied have been thy days; brief be thy pains, for few have beenthy offences! Look at her sweet babes, and bear her in yourremembrance; often will I visit you and revive the solemn scene. Lookat her ye, also, who are nearer to your end--Ah! will you bear it likeher!"

He paused; and the nurses and Mrs Wyers, struck by this call, and movedby the general example, crept to the bed, and dropt on their knees, almost involuntarily. 

"She departs, " resumed Albany, "the envy of the world! while yet noguilt had seized her soul, and no remorse had marred her peace. She wasthe hand-maid of charity, and pity dwelt in her bosom! her mouth wasnever open but to give comfort; her foot-steps were followed byblessings! Oh happy in purity, be thine the song of triumph!--softlyshalt thou sink to temporary sleep, --sublimely shalt thou rise to lifethat wakes for ever!"

He then got up, took the children by their little hands, and went away. 

CHAPTER x. 

A TERMINATION. 

Dr Lyster and Delvile met them at the entrance into the house. Extremely alarmed lest Cecilia had received any disturbance, they bothhastened up stairs, but Delvile proceeded only to the door. He stoptthere and listened; but all was silent; the prayers of Albany hadstruck an awe into every one; and Dr Lyster soon returned to tell himthere was no alteration in his patient. 

"And he has not disturbed her?" cried Delvile. 

"No, not at all. "

"I think, then, " said he, advancing, though trembling, "I will yet seeher once more. "

"No, no, Mr Mortimer, " cried the doctor, "why should you give yourselfso unnecessary a shock?"

"The shock, " answered he, "is over!--tell me, however, is there anychance I may hurt _her_?"

"I believe not; I do not think, just now, she will perceive you. "

"Well, then, --I may grieve, perhaps, hereafter, that once more--thatone glance!"--He stopt, irresolute the doctor would again havedissuaded him, but, after a little hesitation, he assured him he wasprepared for the worst, and forced himself into the room. 

When again, however, he beheld Cecilia, --senseless, speechless, motionless, her features void of all expression, her cheeks withoutcolour, her eyes without meaning, --he shrunk from the sight, he leantupon Dr Lyster, and almost groaned aloud. 

The doctor would have conducted him out of the apartment; but, recovering from this first agony, he turned again to view her, andcasting up his eyes, fervently ejaculated, "Oh merciful powers! Take, or destroy her! let her not linger thus, rather let me lose her forever!--O far rather would I see her dead, glad in this dreadfulcondition!"

Then, advancing to the bed side, and yet more earnestly looking at her, "I pray not now, " he cried, "for thy life! inhumanly as I have treatedthee, I am not yet so hardened as to wish thy misery lengthened no;quick be thy restoration, or short as pure thy passage to eternity!--Ohmy Cecilia! lovely, however altered! sweet even in the arms of deathand insanity! and dearer to my tortured heart in this calamitous state, than in all thy pride of health and beauty!"--

He stopt, and turned from her, yet could not tear himself away; he cameback, he again looked at her, he hung over her in anguish unutterable;he kissed each burning hand, he folded to his bosom her feeble form, and, recovering his speech, though almost bursting with sorrow, faintlyarticulated, "Is all over? no ray of reason left? no knowledge of thywretched Delvile?--no, none! the hand of death is on her, and she isutterly gone!--sweet suffering excellence! loved, lost, expiringCecilia!--but I will not repine! peace and kindred angels are watchingto receive thee, and if thou art parted from thyself, it were impiousto lament thou shouldst be parted from me. --Yet in thy tomb will bedeposited all that to me could render existence supportable, everyfrail chance of happiness, every sustaining hope, and all alleviationof sorrow!"--

Dr Lyster now again approaching, thought he perceived some change inhis patient, and peremptorily forced him away from her: then returninghimself, he found that her eyes were shut, and she was dropt asleep. 

This was an omen the most favourable he could hope. He now seatedhimself by the bedside, and determined not to quit her till theexpected crisis was past. He gave the strictest orders for the wholehouse to be kept quiet, and suffered no one in the room either to speakor move. 

Her sleep was long and heavy; yet, when she awoke, her sensibility wasevidently returned. She started, suddenly raised her head from thepillow, looked round her, and called out, "where am I now?"

"Thank Heaven!" cried Henrietta, and was rushing forward, when DrLyster, by a stern and angry look, compelled her again to take herseat. 

He then spoke to her himself, enquired how she did, and found her quiterational. 

Henrietta, who now doubted not her perfect recovery, wept as violentlyfor joy as she had before wept for grief; and Mary, in the same belief, ran instantly to Delvile, eager to carry to him the first tidings thather mistress had recovered her reason. 

Delvile, in the utmost emotion, then returned to the chamber; but stoodat some distance from the bed, waiting Dr Lyster's permission toapproach it. 

Cecilia was quiet and composed, her recollection seemed restored, andher intellects sound: hut she was faint and weak, and contentedlysilent, to avoid the effort of speaking. 

Dr Lyster encouraged this stillness, and suffered not anyone, not evenDelvile, to advance to her. After a short time, however, she again, andvery calmly, began to talk to him. She now first knew him, and seemedmuch surprised by his attendance. She could not tell, she said, what oflate had happened to her, nor could guess where she was, or by whatmeans she came into such a place. Dr Lyster desired her at present notto think upon the subject, and promised her a full account ofeverything, when she was stronger, and more fit for conversing. 

This for a while silenced her. But, after a short pause, "Tell me, " shesaid, "Dr Lyster, have I no friend in this place but you?"

"Yes, yes, you have several friends here, " answered the Doctor, "only Ikeep them in order, lest they should hurry or disturb you. "

She seemed much pleased by this speech; but soon after said, "You mustnot, Doctor, keep them in order much longer, for the sight of them, Ithink, would much revive me. "

"Ah, Miss Beverley!" cried Henrietta, who could not now restrainherself, "may not _I_, among the rest, come and speak to you?"

"Who is that?" said Cecilia, in a voice of pleasure, though veryfeeble; "is it my ever-dear Henrietta?"

"Oh this is joy indeed!" cried she, fervently kissing her cheeks andforehead, "joy that I never, never expected to have more!"

"Come, come, " cried Dr Lyster, "here's enough of this; did I not dowell to keep such people off?"

"I believe you did, " said Cecilia, faintly smiling; "my too kindHenrietta, you must be more tranquil!"

"I will, I will indeed, madam!--my dear, dear Miss Beverley, I willindeed!--now once you have owned me, and once again I hear your sweetvoice, I will do any thing, and every thing, for I am made happy for mywhole life!"

"Ah, sweet Henrietta!" cried Cecilia, giving her her hand, "you mustsuppress these feelings, or our Doctor here will soon part us. But tellme, Doctor, is there no one else that you can let me see?"

Delvile, who had listened to this scene in the unspeakable perturbationof that hope which is kindled from the very ashes of despair, was nowspringing forward; but Dr Lyster, fearful of the consequences, hastilyarose, and with a look and air not to be disputed, took hold of hisarm, and led him out of the room. He then represented to him stronglythe danger of agitating or disturbing her, and charged him to keep fromher sight till better able to bear it; assuring him at the same timethat he might now reasonably hope her recovery. 

Delvile, lost in transport, could make no answer, but flew into hisarms, and almost madly embraced him; he then hastened out of sight topour forth fervent thanks, and hurrying back with equal speed, againembraced the Doctor, and while his manly cheeks were burnt with tearsof joy, he could not yet articulate the glad tumult of his soul. 

The worthy Dr Lyster, who heartily partook of his happiness, againurged him to be discreet; and Delvile, no longer intractable anddesperate, gratefully concurred in whatever he commanded. Dr Lysterthen returned to Cecilia, and to relieve her mind from any uneasysuspense, talked to her openly of Delvile, gave her to understand hewas acquainted with her marriage, and told her he had prohibited theirmeeting till each was better able to support it. 

Cecilia by this delay seemed half gratified, and half disappointed; butthe rest of the physicians, who had been summoned upon this happychange, now appearing, the orders were yet more strictly enforced forkeeping her quiet. 

She submitted, therefore, peaceably; and Delvile, whose gladdened heartstill throbbed with speechless rapture, contentedly watched at herchamber door, and obeyed implicitly whatever was said to him. 

She now visibly, and almost hourly grew better; and, in a short time, her anxiety to know all that was passed, and by what means she becameso ill, and confined in a house of which she had not any knowledge, obliged Dr Lyster to make himself master of these particulars, that hemight communicate them to her with a calmness that Delvile could notattain. 

Delvile himself, happy to be spared the bitter task of such a relation, informed him all he knew of the story, and then entreated him tonarrate to her also the motives of his own strange, and he fearedunpardonable conduct, and the scenes which had followed their parting. 

He came, he said, to England, ignorant of all that had past in hisabsence, intending merely to wait upon his father, and communicate hismarriage, before he gave directions to his lawyer for the settlementsand preparations which were to precede its further publication. Hemeant, also, to satisfy himself, of the real situation of Mr Monckton, and then, after an interview with Cecilia, to have returned to hismother, and waited at Nice till he might publicly claim his wife. 

To this purpose he had written in his letter, which he meant to haveput in the Post-office in London himself; and he had but just alightedfrom his chaise, when he met Ralph, Cecilia's servant, in the street. 

Hastily stopping him, he enquired if he had left his place? "No, "answered Ralph, "I am only come up to town with my lady. "

"With your lady?" cried the astonished Delvile, is your lady then intown?"

"Yes, sir, she is at Mrs Belfield's. "

"At Mrs Belfield's?--is her daughter returned home?

"No, sir, we left her in the country. "

He was then going on with a further account, but, in too much confusionof mind to hear him Delvile abruptly wished him good night, and marchedon himself towards Belfield's. 

The pleasure with which he would have heard that Cecilia was so near tohim, was totally lost in his perplexity to account for her journey. Herletters had never hinted at such a purpose, --the news reached him onlyby accident, --it was ten o'clock at night, --yet she was at Belfield's--though the sister was away, --though the mother was professedly odiousto her!--In an instant, all he had formerly heard, all he had formerlydisregarded, rushed suddenly upon his memory, and he began to believehe had been deluded, that his father was right, and that Belfield hadsome strange and improper influence over her heart. 

The suspicion was death to him; he drove it from him, he concluded thewhole was some error: his reason as powerfully as his tendernessvindicated her innocence; and though he arrived at the house in muchdisorder, he yet arrived with a firm persuasion of an honourableexplanation. 

The door was open, --a chaise was at it in waiting, --Mrs Belfield waslistening in the passage; these appearances were strange, and encreasedhis agitation. He asked for her son in a voice scarce audible, --shetold him he was engaged with a lady, and must not be disturbed. 

That fatal answer, at a moment so big with the most horrible surmises, was decisive: furiously, therefore, he forced himself past her, andopened the door:--but when he saw them together, --the rest of thefamily confessedly excluded, his rage turned to horror, and he couldhardly support himself. 

"O Dr Lyster!" he continued, "ask of the sweet creature if thesecircumstances offer any extenuation for the fatal jealousy which seizedme? never by myself while I live will it be forgiven, but she, perhaps, who is all softness, all compassion, and all peace, may some time hencethink my sufferings almost equal to my offence. "

He then proceeded in his narration. 

When he had so peremptorily ordered her chaise to St James's-square, hewent back to the house, and desired Belfield to walk out with him. Hecomplied, and they were both silent till they came to a Coffee-house, where they asked for a private room. The whole way they went, hisheart, secretly satisfied of the purity of Cecilia, smote him for thesituation in which he had left her; yet, having unfortunately gone sofar as to make his suspicions apparent, he thought it necessary to hischaracter that their abolition should be equally public. 

When they were alone, "Belfield, " he said, "to obviate any imputationof impertinence in my enquiries, I deny not, what I presume you havebeen told by herself, that I have the nearest interest in whateverconcerns the lady from whom we are just now parted: I must beg, therefore, an explicit account of the purpose of your privateconversation with her. "

"Mr Delvile, " answered Belfield, with mingled candour and spirit, "I amnot commonly much disposed to answer enquiries thus cavalierly put tome; yet here, as I find myself not the principal person concerned, Ithink I am bound in justice to speak for the absent who is. I assureyou, therefore, most solemnly, that your interest in Miss Beverley Inever heard but by common report, that our being alone together was byboth of us undesigned and undesired, that the honour she did our housein calling at it, was merely to acquaint my mother with my sister'sremoval to Mrs Harrel's, and that the part which I had myself in hercondescension, was simply to be consulted upon a journey which she hasin contemplation to the South of France. And now, sir, having given youthis peaceable satisfaction, you will find me extremely at your serviceto offer any other. "

Delvile instantly held out his hand to him; "What you assert, " he said, "upon your honour, requires no other testimony. Your gallantry and yourprobity are equally well known to me; with either, therefore, I amcontent, and by no means require the intervention of both. "

They then parted; and now, his doubts removed, and his punctiliosatisfied, he flew to St James's-square, to entreat the forgiveness ofCecilia for the alarm he had occasioned her, and to hear the reason ofher sudden journey, and change of measures. But when he came there, tofind that his father, whom he had concluded was at Delvile Castle, wasin the house, while Cecilia had not even enquired for him at the door, --"Oh let me not, " he continued, "even to myself, let me not trace theagony of that moment!--where to seek her I knew not, why she was inLondon I could not divine, for what purpose she had given the postiliona new direction I could form no idea. Yet it appeared that she wishedto avoid me, and once more, in the frenzy of my disappointment, Isupposed Belfield a party in her concealment. Again, therefore, Isought him, --at his own house, --at the coffee-house where I had lefthim, --in vain, wherever I came, I just missed him, for, hearing of mysearch, he went with equal restlessness, from place to place to meetme. I rejoice we both failed; a repetition of my enquiries in my thenirritable state, must inevitably have provoked the most fatalresentment. 

"I will not dwell upon the scenes that followed, --my laborious search, my fruitless wanderings, the distraction of my suspense, the excess ofmy despair!--even Belfield, the fiery Belfield, when I met with him thenext day, was so much touched by my wretchedness, that he bore with allmy injustice; feeling, noble young man! never will I lose theremembrance of his high-souled patience. 

"And now, Dr Lyster, go to my Cecilia; tell her this tale, and try, foryou have skill sufficient, to soften, yet not wound her with mysufferings. If then she can bear to see me, to bless me with the soundof her sweet voice, no longer at war with her intellects, to hold outto me her loved hand, in token of peace and forgiveness. --Oh, DrLyster! preserver of _my_ life in hers! give to me but that exquisitemoment, and every past evil will be for ever obliterated!"

"You must be calmer, Sir, " said the Doctor, "before I make the attempt. These heroicks are mighty well for sound health, and strong nerves, butthey will not do for an invalide. "

He went, however, to Cecilia, and gave her this narration, suppressingwhatever he feared would most affect her, and judiciously enliveningthe whole by his strictures. Cecilia was much easier for this removalof her perplexities, and, as her anguish and her terror had beenunmixed with resentment, she had now no desire but to reconcile Delvilewith himself. 

Dr Lyster, however, by his friendly authority, obliged her for sometime to be content with this relation; but when she grew better, herimpatience became stronger, and he feared opposition would be ashurtful as compliance. 

Delvile, therefore, was now admitted; yet slowly and with trepidationhe advanced, terrified for her, and fearful of himself, filled withremorse for the injuries she had sustained, and impressed with griefand horror to behold her so ill and altered. 

Supported by pillows, she sat almost upright. The moment she saw him, she attempted to bend forward and welcome him, calling out in a tone ofpleasure, though faintly, "Ah! dearest Delvile! is it you?" but tooweak for the effort she had made, she sunk back upon her pillow, pale, trembling, and disordered. 

Dr Lyster would then have interfered to postpone their furtherconversation; but Delvile was no longer master of himself or hispassions: he darted forward, and kneeling at the bed side, "Sweetinjured excellence!" he cried, "wife of my heart! sole object of mychosen affection! dost thou yet live? do I hear thy loved voice?--do Isee thee again?--art thou my Cecilia? and have I indeed not lost thee?"then regarding her more fixedly, "Alas, " he cried, "art thou indeed myCecilia! so pale, so emaciated!--Oh suffering angel! and couldst thouthen call upon Delvile, the guilty, but heart-broken Delvile, thydestroyer, thy murderer, and yet not call to execrate him?"

Cecilia, extremely affected, could not utter a word; she held out tohim her hand, she looked at him with gentleness and kindness, but tearsstarted into her eyes, and trickled in large drops down her colourlesscheeks. 

"Angelic creature!" cried Delvile, his own tears overflowing, while hepressed to his lips the kind token of her pardon, "can you give to meagain a hand so ill deserved? can you look with such compassion on theauthor of your woes? on the wretch, who for an instant could doubt thepurity of a mind so seraphic!"

"Ah, Delvile!" cried she, a little reviving, "think no more of what ispast!--to see you, --to be yours, --drives all evil from my remembrance!"

"I am not worthy this joy!" cried he, rising, kneeling, and risingagain; "I know not how to sustain it! a forgiveness such as this, --when I believed You must hate me for ever! when repulse and aversionwere all I dared expect, --when my own inhumanity had bereft thee of thyreason, --when the grave, the pitiless grave, was already open toreceive thee. "--

"Too kind, too feeling Delvile!" cried the penetrated Cecilia, "relieveyour loaded heart from these bitter recollections; mine is lightenedalready, --lightened, I think, of every thing but its affection for_you_!" "Oh words of transport and extacy!" cried the enrapturedDelvile, "oh partner of my life! friend, solace, darling of my bosom!that so lately I thought expiring! that I folded to my bleeding heartin the agony of eternal separation!"--

"Come away, Sir, come away, " cried Dr Lyster, who now saw that Ceciliawas greatly agitated, "I will not be answerable for the continuation ofthis scene;" and taking him by the arm, he awakened him from hisfrantic rapture, by assuring him she would faint, and forced him awayfrom her. 

Soon after he was gone, and Cecilia became more tranquil, Henrietta, who had wept with bitterness in a corner of the room during this scene, approached her, and, with an attempted smile, though in a voice hardlyaudible, said, "Ah, Miss Beverley, you will, at last, then be happy!happy as all your goodness deserves. And I am sure I should rejoice init if I was to die to make you happier!"

Cecilia, who but too well knew her full meaning, tenderly embraced her, but was prevented by Dr Lyster from entering into any discourse withher. 

The first meeting, however, with Delvile being over, the second was farmore quiet, and in a very short time, he would scarcely quit her amoment, Cecilia herself receiving from his sight a pleasure too greatfor denial, yet too serene for danger. 

The worthy Dr Lyster, finding her prospect of recovery thus fair, prepared for leaving London: but, equally desirous to do good out ofhis profession as in it, he first, at the request of Delvile, waitedupon his father, to acquaint him with his present situation, solicithis directions for his future proceedings, and endeavour to negociate ageneral reconciliation. 

Mr Delvile, to whose proud heart social joy could find no avenue, wasyet touched most sensibly by the restoration of Cecilia. Neither hisdignity nor his displeasure had been able to repress remorse, a feelingto which, with all his foibles, he had not been accustomed. The view ofher distraction had dwelt upon his imagination, the despondency of hisson had struck him with fear and horror. He had been haunted by selfreproach, and pursued by vain regret; and those concessions he hadrefused to tenderness and entreaty, he now willingly accorded to changerepentance for tranquility. He sent instantly for his son, whom evenwith tears he embraced, and felt his own peace restored as hepronounced his forgiveness. 

New, however, to kindness, he retained it not long, and a stranger togenerosity, he knew not how to make her welcome: the extinction of hisremorse abated his compassion for Cecilia, and when solicited toreceive her, he revived the charges of Mr Monckton. 

Cecilia, informed of this, determined to write to that gentlemanherself, whose long and painful illness, joined to his irrecoverableloss of her, she now hoped might prevail with him to make reparationfor the injuries he had done her. 

_To Mr Monckton_. 

I write not, Sir, to upbraid you; the woes which have followed your illoffices, and which you may some time hear, will render my reproachessuperfluous. I write but to beseech that what is past may content you;and that, however, while I was single, you chose to misrepresent me tothe Delvile family, you will have so much honour, since I am now becomeone of it, as to acknowledge my innocence of the crimes laid to mycharge. 

In remembrance of my former long friendship, I send you my good wishes;and in consideration of my hopes from your recantation, I send you, Sir, if you think it worth acceptance, my forgiveness. 

CECILIA DELVILE. 

Mr Monckton, after many long and painful struggles between uselessrage, and involuntary remorse, at length sent the following answer. 

_To Mrs Mortimer Delvile_. 

Those who could ever believe you guilty, must have been eager to thinkyou so. I meant but your welfare at all times, and to have saved youfrom a connection I never thought equal to your merit. I am grieved, but not surprised, to hear of your injuries; from the alliance you haveformed, nothing else could be expected: if my testimony to yourinnocence can, however, serve to mitigate them, I scruple not todeclare I believe it without taint. 

* * * * *

Delvile sent by Dr Lyster this letter to his father, whose rage at thedetection of the perfidy which had deceived him, was yet inferior towhat he felt that his family was mentioned so injuriously. 

His conference with Dr Lyster was long and painful, but decisive: thatsagacious and friendly man knew well how to work upon, his passions, and so effectually awakened them by representing the disgrace of hisown family from the present situation of Cecilia, that before hequitted his house he was authorised to invite her to remove to it. 

When he returned from his embassy, he found Delvile in her room, andeach waiting with impatience the event of his negociation. 

The Doctor with much alacrity gave Cecilia the invitation with which hehad been charged; but Delvile, jealous for her dignity, was angry anddissatisfied his father brought it not himself, and exclaimed with muchmortification, "Is this all the grace accorded me?"

"Patience, patience, Sir, " answered the Doctor; "when you have thwartedany body in their first hope and ambition, do you expect they will sendyou their compliments and many thanks for the disappointment? Pray letthe good gentleman have his way in some little matters, since you havetaken such effectual care to put out of his reach the power of havingit in greater. "

"O far from starting obstacles, " cried Cecilia, "let us solicit areconciliation with whatever concessions he may require. The misery ofDISOBEDIENCE we have but too fatally experienced; and thinking as wethink of filial ties and parental claims, how can we ever hopehappiness till forgiven and taken into favour?"

"True, my Cecilia, " answered Delvile, "and generous and condescendingas true; and if _you_ can thus sweetly comply, I will gratefullyforbear making any opposition. Too much already have you suffered fromthe impetuosity of my temper, but I will try to curb it in future bythe remembrance of your injuries. "

"The whole of this unfortunate business, " said Dr Lyster, "has been theresult of PRIDE and PREJUDICE. Your uncle, the Dean, began it, by hisarbitrary will, as if an ordinance of his own could arrest the courseof nature! and as if _he_ had power to keep alive, by the loan of aname, a family in the male branch already extinct. Your father, MrMortimer, continued it with the same self-partiality, preferring thewretched gratification of tickling his ear with a favourite sound, tothe solid happiness of his son with a rich and deserving wife. Yetthis, however, remember; if to PRIDE and PREJUDICE you owe yourmiseries, so wonderfully is good and evil balanced, that to PRIDE andPREJUDICE you will also owe their termination: for all that I could sayto Mr Delvile, either of reasoning or entreaty, --and I said all I couldsuggest, and I suggested all a man need wish to hear, --was totallythrown away, till I pointed out to him his _own_ disgrace, in having a_daughter-in-law_ immured in these mean lodgings!

"Thus, my dear young lady, the terror which drove you to this house, and the sufferings which have confined you in it, will prove, in theevent, the source of your future peace: for when all my best rhetorickfailed to melt Mr Delvile, I instantly brought him to terms by couplinghis name with a pawnbroker's! And he could not with more disgust hearhis son called Mr Beverley, than think of his son's wife when he hearsof the _Three Blue Balls_! Thus the same passions, taking but differentdirections, _do_ mischief and _cure_ it alternately. 

"Such, my good young friends, is the MORAL of your calamities. You haveall, in my opinion, been strangely at cross purposes, and trifled, noone knows why, with the first blessings of life. My only hope is thatnow, having among you thrown away its luxuries, you will have knownenough of misery to be glad to keep its necessaries. "

This excellent man was yet prevailed upon by Delvile to stay and assistin removing the feeble Cecilia to St James's-square. 

Henrietta, for whom Mr Arnott's equipage and servants had stillremained in town, was then, though with much difficulty, persuaded togo back to Suffolk: but Cecilia, however fond of her society, was toosensible of the danger and impropriety of her present situation, toreceive from it any pleasure. 

Mr Delvile's reception of Cecilia was formal and cold: yet, as she nowappeared publicly in the character of his son's wife, the bestapartment in his house had been prepared for her use, his domesticswere instructed to wait upon her with the utmost respect, and LadyHonoria Pemberton, who was accidentally in town, offered fromcuriosity, what Mr Delvile accepted from parade, to be herself in StJames's-square, in order to do honour to his daughter-in-law's firstentrance. 

When Cecilia was a little recovered from the shock of the firstinterview, and the fatigue of her removal, the anxious Mortimer wouldinstantly have had her conveyed to her own apartment; but, willing toexert herself, and hoping to oblige Mr Delvile, she declared she waswell able to remain some time longer in the drawing-room. 

"My good friends, " said Dr Lyster, "in the course of my long practice, I have found it impossible to study the human frame, without a littlestudying the human mind; and from all that I have yet been able to makeout, either by observation, reflection, or comparison, it appears to meat this moment, that Mr Mortimer Delvile has got the best wife, andthat you, Sir, have here the most faultless daughter-in-law, that anyhusband or any father in the three kingdoms belonging to his Majestycan either have or desire. "

Cecilia smiled; Mortimer looked his delighted concurrence; Mr Delvileforced himself to make a stiff inclination of the head; and LadyHonoria gaily exclaimed, "Dr Lyster, when you say the _best_ and themost _faultless_, you should always add the rest of the companyexcepted. "

"Upon my word, " cried the Doctor, "I beg your ladyship's pardon; butthere is a certain unguarded warmth comes across a man now and then, that drives _etiquette_ out of his head, and makes him speak truthbefore he well knows where he is. "

"O terrible!" cried she, "this is sinking deeper and deeper. I hadhoped the town air would have taught you better things; but I find youhave visited at Delvile Castle till you are fit for no other place. "

"Whoever, Lady Honoria, " said Mr Delvile, much offended, "is fit forDelvile Castle, must be fit for every other place; though every otherplace may by no means be fit for him. "

"O yes, Sir, " cried she, giddily, "every possible place will be fit forhim, if he can once bear with that. Don't you think so, Dr Lyster?"

"Why, when a man has the honour to see your ladyship, " answered he, good-humouredly, "he is apt to think too much of the person, to careabout the place. "

"Come, I begin to have some hopes of you, " cried she, "for I see, for aDoctor, you have really a very pretty notion of a compliment: only youhave one great fault still; you look the whole time as if you said itfor a joke. "

"Why, in fact, madam, when a man has been a plain dealer both in wordand look for upwards of fifty years, 'tis expecting too quick areformation to demand ductility of voice and eye from him at a blow. However, give me but a little time and a little encouragement, and, with such a tutress, 'twill be hard if I do not, in a very few lessons, learn the right method of seasoning a simper, and the newest fashion oftwisting words from meaning. "

"But pray, " cried she, "upon those occasions, always remember to lookserious. Nothing sets off a compliment so much as a long face. If youare tempted to an unseasonable laugh, think of Delvile Castle; 'tis anexpedient I commonly make use of myself when I am afraid of being toofrisky: and it always succeeds, for the very recollection of it givesme the head-ache in a moment. Upon my word, Mr Delvile, you must havethe constitution of five men, to have kept such good health, afterliving so long at that horrible place. You can't imagine how you'vesurprised me, for I have regularly expected to hear of your death atthe end of every summer: and, I assure you, once, I was very nearbuying mourning. "

"The estate which descends to a man from his own ancestors, LadyHonoria, " answered Mr Delvile, "will seldom be apt to injure hishealth, if he is conscious of committing no misdemeanour which hasdegraded their memory. "

"How vastly odious this new father of yours is!" said Lady Honoria, ina whisper to Cecilia; "what could ever induce you to give up yourcharming estate for the sake of coming into this fusty old family! Iwould really advise you to have your marriage annulled. You have only, you know, to take an oath that you were forcibly run away with; and asyou are an Heiress, and the Delviles are all so violent, it will easilybe credited. And then, as soon as you are at liberty, I would adviseyou to marry my little Lord Derford. "

"Would you only, then, " said Cecilia, "have me regain my freedom inorder to part with it?"

"Certainly, " answered Lady Honoria, "for you can do nothing at allwithout being married; a single woman is a thousand times more shackledthan a wife; for she is accountable to every body; and a wife, youknow, has nothing to do but just to manage her husband. "

"And that, " said Cecilia, smiling, "you consider as a trifle?"

"Yes, if you do but marry a man you don't care for. "

"You are right, then, indeed, to recommend to me my Lord Derford!"

"O yes, he will make the prettiest husband in the world; you may flyabout yourself as wild as a lark, and keep him the whole time as tameas a jack-daw: and though he may complain of you to your friends, hewill never have the courage to find fault to your face. But as toMortimer, you will not be able to govern him as long as you live; forthe moment you have put him upon the fret, you'll fall into the dumpsyourself, hold out your hand to him, and, losing the opportunity ofgaining some material point, make up at the first soft word. "

"You think, then, the quarrel more amusing than the reconciliation?"

"O, a thousand times! for while you are quarrelling, you may say anything, and demand any thing, but when you are reconciled, you ought tobehave pretty, and seem contented. "

"Those who presume to have any pretensions to your ladyship, " saidCecilia, "would be made happy indeed should they hear your principles!"

"O, it would not signify at all, " answered she, "for one's fathers, anduncles, and those sort of people, always make connexions for one, andnot a creature thinks of our principles, till they find them out by ourconduct: and nobody can possibly do that till we are married, for theygive us no power beforehand. The men know nothing of us in the worldwhile we are single, but how we can dance a minuet, or play a lessonupon the harpsichord. "

"And what else, " said Mr Delvile, who advanced, and heard this lastspeech, "need a young lady of rank desire to be known for? yourladyship surely would not have her degrade herself by studying like anartist or professor?"

"O no, Sir, I would not have her study at all; it's mighty well forchildren, but really after sixteen, and when one is come out, one hasquite fatigue enough in dressing, and going to public places, andordering new things, without all that torment of first and secondposition, and E upon the first line, and F upon the first, space!"

"Your ladyship must, however, pardon me for hinting, " said Mr Delvile, "that a young lady of condition, who has a proper sense of her dignity, cannot be seen too rarely, or known too little. "

"O but I hate dignity!" cried she carelessly, "for it's the dullestthing in the world. I always thought it was owing to that you were solittle amusing;--really I beg your pardon, Sir, I meant to say solittle talkative. "

"I can easily credit that your ladyship spoke hastily, " answered he, highly piqued, "for I believe, indeed, a person of a family such asmine, will hardly be supposed to have come into the world for theoffice of amusing it!"

"O no, Sir, " cried she, with pretended innocence, "nobody, I am sure, ever saw you with such a thought. " Then, turning to Cecilia, she addedin a whisper, "You cannot imagine, my dear Mrs Mortimer, how I detestthis old cousin of mine! Now pray tell me honestly if you don't hatehim yourself?"

"I hope, " said Cecilia, "to have no reason. "

"Lord, how you are always upon your guard! If I were half as cautious, I should die of the vapours in a month; the only thing that keeps me atall alive, is now and then making people angry; for the folks at ourhouse let me go out so seldom, and then send me with such stupid oldchaperons, that giving them a little torment is really the onlyentertainment I can procure myself. O--but I had almost forgot to tellyou a most delightful thing!"

"What is it?"

"Why you must know I have the greatest hopes in the world that myfather will quarrel with old Mr Delvile!"

"And is that such a delightful thing!"

"O yes; I have lived upon the very idea this fortnight; for then, youknow, they'll both be in a passion, and I shall see which of them looksfrightfullest. "

"When Lady Honoria whispers, " cried Mortimer, "I always suspect somemischief. "

"No indeed, " answered her ladyship, "I was merely congratulating MrsMortimer about her marriage. Though really, upon second thoughts, Idon't know whether I should not rather condole with her, for I havelong been convinced she has a prodigious antipathy to you. I saw it thewhole time I was at Delvile Castle, where she used to change colour atthe very sound of your name; a symptom I never perceived when I talkedto her of my Lord Derford, who would certainly have made her a thousandtimes a better husband. "

"If you mean on account of his title, Lady Honoria, " said Mr Delvile;"your ladyship must be strangely forgetful of the connections of yourfamily, not to remember that Mortimer, after the death of his uncle andmyself, must inevitably inherit one far more honourable than a new-sprung-up family, like my Lord Ernolf's, could offer. "

"Yes, Sir; but then, you know, she would have kept her estate, whichwould have been a vastly better thing than an old pedigree of newrelations. Besides, I don't find that any body cares for the nobleblood of the Delviles but themselves; and if she had kept her fortune, every body, I fancy, would have cared for _that_. "

"Every body, then, " said Mr Delvile, "must be highly mercenary andignoble, or the blood of an ancient and honourable house, would bethought contaminated by the most distant hint of so degrading acomparison. "

"Dear Sir, what should we all do with birth if it was not for wealth?it would neither take us to Ranelagh nor the Opera; nor buy us caps norwigs, nor supply us with dinners nor bouquets. "

"Caps and wigs, dinners and bouquets!" interrupted Mr Delvile; "yourladyship's estimate of wealth is really extremely minute. "

"Why, you know, Sir, as to caps and wigs, they are very serious things, for we should look mighty droll figures to go about bare-headed; andas to dinners, how would the Delviles have lasted all these thousandcenturies if they had disdained eating them?"

"Whatever may be your ladyship's satisfaction, " said Mr Delvile, angrily, "in depreciating a house that has the honour of being nearlyallied with your own, you will not, I hope at least, instruct thislady, " turning to Cecilia, "to adopt a similar contempt of itsantiquity and dignity. "

"This lady, " cried Mortimer, "will at least, by condescending to becomeone of it, secure us from any danger that such contempt may spreadfurther. "

"Let me but, " said Cecilia, looking gratefully at him, "be as securefrom exciting as I am from feeling contempt, and what can I have towish?"

"Good and excellent young lady!" said Dr Lyster, "the first ofblessings indeed is yours in the temperance of your own mind. When youbegan your career in life, you appeared to us short-sighted mortals, topossess more than your share of the good things of this world; such aunion of riches, beauty, independence, talents, education and virtue, seemed a monopoly to raise general envy and discontent; but mark withwhat scrupulous exactness the good and bad is ever balanced! You havehad a thousand sorrows to which those who have looked up to you havebeen strangers, and for which not all the advantages you possess havebeen equivalent. There is evidently throughout this world, in things aswell as persons, a levelling principle, at war with pre-eminence, anddestructive of perfection. "

"Ah!" cried Mortimer, in a low voice to Cecilia, "how much higher mustwe all rise, or how much lower must you fall, ere any levellingprinciple will approximate us with YOU!"

He then entreated her to spare her strength and spirits by returning toher own apartment, and the conversation was broken up. 

"Pray permit me, Mrs Mortimer, " cried Lady Honoria, in taking leave, "to beg that the first guest you invite to Delvile Castle may be me. You know my partiality to it already. I shall be particularly happy inwaiting upon you in tempestuous weather! We can all stroll outtogether, you know, very sociably; and I sha'n't be much in your way, for if there should happen to be a storm, you can easily lodge me undersome great tree, and while you amuse yourselves with a _tete-a-tete_, give me the indulgence of my own reflections. I am vastly fond ofthinking, and being alone, you know, --especially in thunder andlightning!"

She then ran away; and they all separated: Cecilia was conveyed upstairs, and the worthy Dr Lyster, loaded with acknowledgments of everykind, set out for the country. 

Cecilia, still weak, and much emaciated, for some time lived almostwholly in her own room, where the grateful and solicitous attendance ofMortimer, alleviated the pain both of her illness and confinement: butas soon as her health permitted travelling, he hastened with herabroad. 

Here tranquility once more made its abode the heart of Cecilia; thatheart so long torn with anguish, suspense and horrour! Mrs Delvilereceived her with the most rapturous fondness, and the impression ofher sorrows gradually wore away, from her kind and maternal cares, andfrom the watchful affection and delighted tenderness of her son. 

The Egglestons now took entire possession of her estate, and Delvile, at her entreaty, forbore shewing any personal resentment of theirconduct, and put into the hands of a lawyer the arrangement of theaffair. 

They continued abroad some months, and the health of Mrs Delvile wastolerably re-established. They were then summoned home by the death ofLord Delvile, who bequeathed to his nephew Mortimer his town house, andwhatever of his estate was not annexed to his title, which necessarilydevolved to his brother. 

The sister of Mrs Delvile, a woman of high spirit and strong passions, lived not long after him; but having, in her latter days, intimatelyconnected herself with Cecilia, she was so much charmed with hercharacter, and so much dazzled by her admiration of the extraordinarysacrifice she had made, that, in a fit of sudden enthusiasm, shealtered her will, to leave to her, and to her sole disposal, thefortune which, almost from his infancy, she had destined for hernephew. Cecilia, astonished and penetrated, opposed the alteration; buteven her sister, now Lady Delvile, to whom she daily became dearer, earnestly supported it; while Mortimer, delighted to restore to herthrough his own family, any part of that power and independence ofwhich her generous and pure regard for himself had deprived her, wasabsolute in refusing that the deed should be revoked. 

Cecilia, from this flattering transaction, received a furtherconviction of the malignant falsehood of Mr Monckton, who had alwaysrepresented to her the whole of the Delvile family as equally poor intheir circumstances, and illiberal in their minds. The strong spirit ofactive benevolence which had ever marked her character, was now againdisplayed, though no longer, as hitherto, unbounded. She had learnt theerror of profusion, even in charity and beneficence; and she had amotive for oeconomy, in her animated affection for Mortimer. 

She soon sent for Albany, whose surprise that she still existed, andwhose rapture at her recovered prosperity, now threatened his sensesfrom the tumult of his joy, with nearly the same danger they had latelybeen menaced by terror. But though her donations were circumscribed byprudence, and their objects were selected with discrimination, she gaveto herself all her former benevolent pleasure, in solacing hisafflictions, while she softened his asperity, by restoring to him hisfavourite office of being her almoner and monitor. 

She next sent to her own pensioners, relieved those distresses whichher sudden absence had occasioned, and renewed and continued thesalaries she had allowed them. All who had nourished reasonableexpectations from her bounty she remembered, though she raised no newclaimants but with oeconomy and circumspection. But neither Albany northe old pensioners felt the satisfaction of Mortimer, who saw with newwonder the virtues of her mind, and whose admiration of herexcellencies, made his gratitude perpetual for the happiness of hislot. 

The tender-hearted Henrietta, in returning to her new friends, gaveway, with artless openness, to the violence of untamed grief; butfinding Mr Arnott as wretched as herself, the sympathy Cecilia hadforeseen soon endeared them to each other, while the little interesttaken in either by Mrs Harrel, made them almost inseparable companions. 

Mrs Harrel, wearied by their melancholy, and sick of retirement, tookthe earliest opportunity that was offered her of changing hersituation; she married very soon a man of fortune in the neighbourhood, and, quickly forgetting all the past, thoughtlessly began the worldagain, with new hopes, new connections, --new equipages and newengagements!

Henrietta was then obliged to go again to her mother, where, thoughdeprived of all the indulgencies to which she was now become familiar, she was not more hurt by the separation than Mr Arnott. So sad and sosolitary his house seemed in her absence, that he soon followed her totown, and returned not till he carried her back its mistress. And therethe gentle gratitude of her soft and feeling heart, engaged from theworthy Mr Arnott the tenderest affection, and, in time, healed thewound of his early and hopeless passion. 

The injudicious, the volatile, yet noble-minded Belfield, to whosemutable and enterprising disposition life seemed always ratherbeginning than progressive, roved from employment to employment, andfrom public life to retirement, soured with the world, and discontentedwith himself, till vanquished, at length, by the constant friendship ofDelvile, he consented to accept his good offices in again entering thearmy; and, being fortunately ordered out upon foreign service, hishopes were revived by ambition, and his prospects were brightened by aview of future honour. 

The wretched Monckton, dupe of his own cunning and artifices, stilllived in lingering misery, doubtful which was most acute, the pain ofhis wound and confinement, or of his defeat and disappointment. Led onby a vain belief that he had parts to conquer all difficulties, he hadindulged without restraint a passion in which interest was seconded byinclination. Allured by such fascinating powers, he shortly sufferednothing to stop his course; and though when he began his career hewould have started at the mention of actual dishonour, long before itwas concluded, neither treachery nor perjury were regarded by him asstumbling blocks. 

All fear of failing was lost in vanity, all sense of probity was sunkin interest, all scruples of conscience were left behind by the heat ofthe chace. Yet the unforeseen and melancholy catastrophe of his longarts, illustrated in his despite what his principles had obscured, thateven in worldly pursuits where fraud out-runs integrity, failure joinsdishonour to loss, and disappointment excites triumph instead of pity. 

The upright mind of Cecilia, her purity, her virtue, and the moderationof her wishes, gave to her in the warm affection of Lady Delvile, andthe unremitting fondness of Mortimer, all the happiness human lifeseems capable of receiving:--yet human it was, and as such imperfect!she knew that, at times, the whole family must murmur at her loss offortune, and at times she murmured herself to be thus portionless, tho'an HEIRESS. Rationally, however, she surveyed the world at large, andfinding that of the few who had any happiness, there were none withoutsome misery, she checked the rising sigh of repining mortality, and, grateful with general felicity, bore partial evil with chearfullestresignation.