CHAPTER ix
A SUPPLICATION.
The next morning Cecilia, at the repeated remonstrances of Mrs Harrel,consented to call upon Miss Larolles. She felt the impracticabilityof beginning at present the alteration in her way of life she hadprojected, and therefore thought it most expedient to assume nosingularity till her independency should enable her to support it withconsistency; yet greater than ever was her internal eagerness to bettersatisfy her inclination and her conscience in the disposition of hertime, and the distribution of her wealth, since she had heard theemphatic charge of her unknown Mentor.
Mrs Harrel declined accompanying her in this visit, because she hadappointed a surveyor to bring a plan for the inspection of Mr Harrel andherself, of a small temporary building, to be erected at Violet-Bank,for the purpose of performing plays in private the ensuing Easter.
When the street door was opened for her to get into the carriage, shewas struck with the appearance of an elderly woman who was standing atsome distance, and seemed shivering with cold, and who, as she descendedthe steps, joined her hands in an act of supplication, and advancednearer to the carriage.
Cecilia stopt to look at her: her dress, though parsimonious, was tooneat for a beggar, and she considered a moment what she could offer her.The poor woman continued to move forward, but with a slowness of pacethat indicated extreme weakness; and, as she approached and raisedher head, she exhibited a countenance so wretched, and a complexion sosickly, that Cecilia was impressed with horror at the sight.
With her hands still joined, and a voice that seemed fearful of its ownsound, "Oh madam," she cried, "that you would but hear me!"
"Hear you!" repeated Cecilia, hastily feeling for her purse; "mostcertainly, and tell me how I shall assist you."
"Heaven bless you for speaking so kindly, madam!" cried the woman, witha voice more assured; "I was sadly afraid you would be angry, but I sawthe carriage at the door, and I thought I would try; for I could be noworse; and distress, madam, makes very bold."
"Angry!" said Cecilia, taking a crown from her purse; "no, indeed!--whocould see such wretchedness, and feel any thing but pity?"
"Oh madam," returned the poor woman, "I could almost cry to hear youtalk so, though I never thought to cry again, since I left it off for mypoor Billy!"
"Have you, then, lost a son?"
"Yes, madam; but he was a great deal too good to live, so I have quiteleft off grieving for him now."
"Come in, good woman," said Cecilia, "it is too cold to stand here, andyou seem half-starved already: come in, and let me have some talk withyou."
She then gave orders that the carriage should be driven round the squaretill she was ready, and making the woman follow her into a parlour,desired to know what she should do for her; changing, while she spoke,from a movement of encreasing compassion, the crown which she held inher hand for double that sum.
"You can do everything, madam," she answered, "if you will but plead forus to his honour: he little thinks of our distress, because he has beenafflicted with none himself, and I would not be so troublesome to him,but indeed, indeed, madam, we are quite pinched for want!"
Cecilia, struck with the words, _he little thinks of our distress,because he has been afflicted with none himself_, felt again ashamedof the smallness of her intended donation, and taking from her purseanother half guinea, said, "Will this assist you? Will a guinea besufficient to you for the present?"
"I humbly thank you, madam," said the woman, curtsying low, "shall Igive you a receipt?"
"A receipt?" cried Cecilia, with emotion, "for what? Alas, our accountsare by no means balanced! but I shall do more for you if I find you asdeserving an object as you seem to be."
"You are very good, madam; but I only meant a receipt in part ofpayment."
"Payment for what? I don't understand you."
"Did his honour never tell you, madam, of our account?"
"What account?"
"Our bill, madam, for work done to the new Temple at Violet-Bank: it wasthe last great work my poor husband was able to do, for it was there hemet with his misfortune."
"What bill? What misfortune?" cried Cecilia; "what had your husband todo at Violet-Bank?"
"He was the carpenter, madam. I thought you might have seen poor Hillthe carpenter there."
"No, I never was there myself. Perhaps you mistake me for Mrs Harrel."
"Why, sure, madam, a'n't you his honour's lady?"
"No. But tell me, what is this bill?"
"'Tis a bill, madam, for very hard work, for work, madam, which I amsure will cost my husband his life; and though I have been after hishonour night and day to get it, and sent him letters and petitionswith an account of our misfortunes, I have never received so much asa shilling! and now the servants won't even let me wait in the hall tospeak to him. Oh, madam! you who seem so good, plead to his honour inour behalf! tell him my poor husband cannot live! tell him my childrenare starving! and tell him my poor Billy, that used to help to keepus, is dead, and that all the work I can do by myself is not enough tomaintain us!"
"Good heaven!" cried Cecilia, extremely moved, "is it then your ownmoney for which you sue thus humbly?"
"Yes, madam, for my own just and honest money, as his honour knows, andwill tell you himself."
"Impossible!" cried Cecilia, "he cannot know it; but I will take care heshall soon be informed of it. How much is the bill?"
"Two-and-twenty pounds, madam."
"What, no more?"
"Ah, madam, you gentlefolks little think how much that is to poorpeople! A hard working family, like mine, madam, with the help of 20pounds will go on for a long while quite in paradise."
"Poor worthy woman!" cried Cecilia, whose eyes were filled with tears ofcompassion, "if 20 pounds will place you in paradise, and that 20pounds only your just right, it is hard, indeed, that you should be keptwithout it; especially when your debtors are too affluent to miss it.Stay here a few moments, and I will bring you the money immediately."
Away she flew, and returned to the breakfast room, but found there onlyMr Arnott, who told her that Mr Harrel was in the library, with hissister and some gentlemen. Cecilia briefly related her business, andbegged he would inform Mr Harrel she wished to speak to him directly. MrArnott shook his head, but obeyed.
They returned together, and immediately.
"Miss Beverley," cried Mr Harrel, gaily, "I am glad you are not gone,for we want much to consult with you. Will you come up stairs?"
"Presently," answered she; "but first I must speak to you about a poorwoman with whom I have accidentally been talking, who has begged meto intercede with you to pay a little debt that she thinks you haveforgotten, but that probably you have never heard mentioned."
"A debt?" cried he, with an immediate change of countenance, "to whom?"
"Her name, I think, is Hill; she is wife to the carpenter you employedabout a new temple at Violet-Bank."
"O, what--what, that woman?--Well, well, I'll see she shall be paid.Come, let us go to the library."
"What, with my commission so ill executed? I promised to petition forher to have the money directly."
"Pho, pho, there's no such hurry; I don't know what I have done with herbill."
"I'll run and get another."
"O upon no account! She may send another in two or three days. Shedeserves to wait a twelvemonth for her impertinence in troubling you atall about it."
"That was entirely accidental: but indeed you must give me leave toperform my promise and plead for her. It must be almost the same to youwhether you pay such a trifle as 20 pounds now or a month hence, and tothis poor woman the difference seems little short of life or death, forshe tells me her husband is dying, and her children are half-famished;and though she looks an object of the cruellest want and distressherself, she appears to be their only support."
"O," cried Mr Harrel, laughing, "what a dismal tale has she been tellingyou! no doubt she saw you were fresh from the country! But if you givecredi
t to all the farragos of these trumpery impostors, you will neverhave a moment to yourself, nor a guinea in your purse."
"This woman,"' answered Cecilia, "cannot be an impostor, she carriesmarks but too evident and too dreadful in her countenance of thesufferings which she relates."
"O," returned he, "when you know the town better you will soon seethrough tricks of this sort; a sick husband and five small children arecomplaints so stale now, that they serve no other purpose in the worldbut to make a joke."
"Those, however, who can laugh at them must have notions of merrimentvery different to mine. And this poor woman, whose cause I have venturedto undertake, had she no family at all, must still and indisputably bean object of pity herself, for she is so weak she can hardly crawl, andso pallid that she seems already half dead."
"All imposition, depend upon it! The moment she is out of your sight hercomplaints will vanish."
"Nay, sir," cried Cecilia, a little impatiently, "there is no reason tosuspect such deceit, since she does not come hither as a beggar, howeverwell the state of beggary may accord with her poverty: she only solicitsthe payment of a bill, and if in that there is any fraud, nothing can beso easy as detection."
Mr Harrel bit his lips at this speech, and for some instants looked muchdisturbed; but soon recovering himself, he negligently said, "Pray, howdid she get at you?"
"I met her at the street door. But tell me, is not her bill a just one?"
"I cannot say; I have never had time to look at it."
"But you know who the woman is, and that her husband worked for you, andtherefore that in all probability it is right,--do you not?"
"Yes, yes, I know who the woman is well enough; she has taken care ofthat, for she has pestered me every day these nine months."
Cecilia was struck dumb by this speech: hitherto she had supposed thatthe dissipation of his life kept him ignorant of his own injustice;but when she found he was so well informed of it, yet, with such totalindifference, could suffer a poor woman to claim a just debt every dayfor nine months together, she was shocked and astonished beyond measure.They were both some time silent, and then Mr Harrel, yawning andstretching out his arms, indolently asked, "Pray, why does not the mancome himself?"
"Did I not tell you," answered Cecilia, staring at so absent a question,"that he was very ill, and unable even to work?"
"Well, when he is better," added he, moving towards the door, "he maycall, and I will talk to him."
Cecilia, all amazement at this unfeeling behaviour, turned involuntarilyto Mr Arnott, with a countenance that appealed for his assistance; butMr Arnott hung his head, ashamed to meet her eyes, and abruptly left theroom.
Meantime Mr Harrel, half-turning back, though without looking Cecilia inthe face, carelessly said, "Well, won't you come?"
"No, sir," answered she, coldly.
He then returned to the library, leaving her equally displeased,surprised, and disconcerted at the conversation which had just passedbetween them. "Good heaven," cried she to herself, "what strange, whatcruel insensibility! to suffer a wretched family to starve, from anobstinate determination to assert that they can live! to distress thepoor by retaining the recompense for which alone they labour, andwhich at last they must have, merely from indolence, forgetfulness, orinsolence! Oh how little did my uncle know, how little did I imagine towhat a guardian I was entrusted!" She now felt ashamed even to return tothe poor woman, though she resolved to do all in her power to soften herdisappointment and relieve her distress.
But before she had quitted the room one of the servants came to tell herthat his master begged the honor of her company up stairs. "Perhaps herelents!" thought she; and pleased with the hope, readily obeyed thesummons.
She found him, his lady, Sir Robert Floyer, and two other gentlemen, allearnestly engaged in an argument over a large table, which was coveredwith plans and elevations of small buildings.
Mr Harrel immediately addressed her with an air of vivacity, and said,"You are very good for coming; we can settle nothing without youradvice: pray look at these different plans for our theatre, and tell uswhich is the best."
Cecilia advanced not a step: the sight of plans for new edifices whenthe workmen were yet unpaid for old ones; the cruel wantonness ofraising fresh fabrics of expensive luxury, while those so lately builthad brought their neglected labourers to ruin, excited an indignationshe scarce thought right to repress: while the easy sprightliness ofthe director of these revels, to whom but the moment before she hadrepresented the oppression of which they made him guilty, filled herwith aversion and disgust: and, recollecting the charge given her by thestranger at the Opera rehearsal, she resolved to speed her departureto another house, internally repeating, "Yes, I _will_ save myself from_the impending destruction of unfeeling prosperity_!"
Mrs Harrel, surprised at her silence and extreme gravity, enquired ifshe was not well, and why she had put off her visit to Miss Larolles?And Sir Robert Floyer, turning suddenly to look at her, said, "Do youbegin to feel the London air already?"
Cecilia endeavoured to recover her serenity, and answer these questionsin her usual manner; but she persisted in declining to give any opinionat all about the plans, and, after slightly looking at them, left theroom.
Mr Harrel, who knew better how to account for her behaviour than hethought proper to declare, saw with concern that she was more seriouslydispleased than he had believed an occurrence which he had regarded aswholly unimportant could have made her: and, therefore, desirous thatshe should be appeased, he followed her out of the library, and said,"Miss Beverley, will to-morrow be soon enough for your _protegee_?"
"O yes, no doubt!" answered she, most agreeably surprised by thequestion.
"Well, then, will you take the trouble to bid her come to me in themorning?"
Delighted at this unexpected commission, she thanked him with smiles forthe office; and as she hastened down stairs to chear the poor expectantwith the welcome intelligence, she framed a thousand excuses for thepart he had hitherto acted, and without any difficulty, persuadedherself he began to see the faults of his conduct, and to meditate areformation.
She was received by the poor creature she so warmly wished to serve witha countenance already so much enlivened, that she fancied Mr Harrel hadhimself anticipated her intended information: this, however, she foundwas not the case, for as soon as she heard his message, she shook herhead, and said, "Ah, madam, his honour always says to-morrow! but I canbetter bear to be disappointed now, so I'll grumble no more; for indeed,madam, I have been blessed enough to-day to comfort me for every thingin the world, if I could but keep from thinking of poor Billy! I couldbear all the rest, madam, but whenever my other troubles go off, thatcomes back to me so much the harder!"
"There, indeed, I can afford you no relief," said Cecilia, "but you musttry to think less of him, and more of your husband and children who arenow alive. To-morrow you will receive your money, and that, I hope, willraise your spirits. And pray let your husband have a physician, to tellyou how to nurse and manage him; I will give you one fee for him now,and if he should want further advice, don't fear to let me know."
Cecilia had again taken out her purse, but Mrs Hill, clasping her hands,called out, "Oh madam no! I don't come here to fleece such goodness! butblessed be the hour that brought me here to-day, and if my poor Billywas alive, he should help me to thank you!"
She then told her that she was now quite rich, for while she was gone, agentleman had come into the room, who had given her five guineas.
Cecilia, by her description, soon found this gentleman was Mr Arnott,and a charity so sympathetic with her own, failed not to raise himgreatly in her favour. But as her benevolence was a stranger to thatparade which is only liberal from emulation, when she found more moneynot immediately wanted, she put up her purse, and charging Mrs Hillto enquire for her the next morning when she came to be paid, bid herhasten back to her sick husband.
And then, again ordering the carriage to the door, she set of
f upon hervisit to Miss Larolles, with a heart happy in the good already done, andhappier still in the hope of doing more.
Miss Larolles was out, and she returned home; for she was too sanguinein her expectations from Mr Harrel, to have any desire of seeking herother guardians. The rest of the day she was more than usually civil tohim, with a view to mark her approbation of his good intentions: whileMr Arnott, gratified by meeting the smiles he so much valued, thoughthis five guineas amply repaid, independently of the real pleasure whichhe took in doing good.