CHAPTER iv
AN AFFRAY.
The next morning, during breakfast, Cecilia was informed that agentleman desired to speak with her. She begged permission of Mrs Harrelto have him asked upstairs, and was not a little surprized when heproved to be the same old gentleman whose singular exclamations had somuch struck her at Mr Monckton's, and at the rehearsal of Artaserse.
Abruptly and with a stern aspect advancing to her, "You are rich," hecried; "are you therefore worthless?"
"I hope not," answered she, in some consternation; while Mrs Harrel,believing his intention was to rob them, ran precipitately to the bell,which she rang without ceasing till two or three servants hastened intothe room; by which time, being less alarmed, she only made signs to themto stay, and stood quietly herself to wait what would follow.
The old man, without attending to her, continued his dialogue withCecilia.
"Know you then," he said, "a blameless use of riches? such a use asnot only in the broad glare of day shall shine resplendent, but inthe darkness of midnight, and stillness of repose, shall give youreflections unembittered, and slumbers unbroken? tell me, know you thisuse?"
"Not so well, perhaps," answered she, "as I ought; but I am very willingto learn better."
"Begin, then, while yet youth and inexperience, new to the callousnessof power and affluence, leave something good to work upon: yesterday yousaw the extravagance of luxury and folly; to-day look deeper, and see,and learn to pity, the misery of disease and penury."
He then put into her hand a paper which contained a most affectingaccount of the misery to which a poor and wretched family had beenreduced, by sickness and various other misfortunes.
Cecilia, "open as day to melting charity," having hastily perused it,took out her purse, and offering to him three guineas, said, "You mustdirect me, sir, what to give if this is insufficient."
"Hast thou so much heart?" cried he, with emotion, "and has fortune,though it has cursed thee with the temptation of prosperity, not yetrooted from thy mind its native benevolence? I return in partthy liberal contribution; this," taking one guinea, "doubles myexpectations; I will not, by making thy charity distress thee,accelerate the fatal hour of hardness and degeneracy."
He was then going; but Cecilia, following him, said "No, take it all!Who should assist the poor if I will not? Rich, without connections;powerful, without wants; upon whom have they any claim if not upon me?"
"True," cried he, receiving the rest, "and wise as true. Give,therefore, whilst yet thou hast the heart to give, and make, in thy daysof innocence and kindness, some interest with Heaven and the poor!"
And then he disappeared.
"Why, my dear," cried Mrs Harrel, "what could induce you to give the manso much money? Don't you see he is crazy? I dare say he would have beenjust as well contented with sixpence."
"I know not what he is," said Cecilia, "but his manners are not moresingular than his sentiments are affecting; and if he is actuated bycharity to raise subscriptions for the indigent, he can surely apply tono one who ought so readily to contribute as myself."
Mr Harrel then came in, and his lady most eagerly told him thetransaction.
"Scandalous!" he exclaimed; "why, this is no better than being ahousebreaker! Pray give orders never to admit him again. Three guineas!I never heard so impudent a thing in my life! Indeed, Miss Beverley, youmust be more discreet in future, you will else be ruined before you knowwhere you are."
"Thus it is," said Cecilia, half smiling, "that we can all lecture oneanother! to-day you recommend economy to me; yesterday I with difficultyforbore recommending it to you."
"Nay," answered he, "that was quite another matter; expence incurred inthe common way of a man's living is quite another thing to an extortionof this sort."
"It is another thing indeed," said she, "but I know not that it istherefore a better."
Mr Harrel made no answer: and Cecilia, privately moralizing upon thedifferent estimates of expence and economy made by the dissipated andthe charitable, soon retired to her own apartment, determined firmly toadhere to her lately adopted plan, and hoping, by the assistance of hernew and very singular monitor, to extend her practice of doing good, byenlarging her knowledge of distress.
Objects are, however, never wanting for the exercise of benevolence;report soon published her liberality, and those who wished to believeit, failed not to enquire into its truth. She was soon at the head of alittle band of pensioners, and, never satisfied with the generosity ofher donations, found in a very short time that the common allowance ofher guardians was scarce adequate to the calls of her munificence.
And thus, in acts of goodness and charity, passed undisturbed anotherweek of the life of Cecilia: but when the fervour of self-approbationlost its novelty, the pleasure with which her new plan was begun firstsubsided into tranquillity, and then sunk into languor. To a heartformed for friendship and affection the charms of solitude are veryshort-lived; and though she had sickened of the turbulence of perpetualcompany, she now wearied of passing all her time by herself, and sighedfor the comfort of society and the relief of communication. But she sawwith astonishment the difficulty with which this was to be obtained: theendless succession of diversions, the continual rotation of assemblies,the numerousness of splendid engagements, of which, while every onecomplained, every one was proud to boast, so effectually impeded privatemeetings and friendly intercourse, that, whichever way she turnedherself, all commerce seemed impracticable, but such as either led todissipation, or accidentally flowed from it.
Yet, finding the error into which her ardour of reformation had hurriedher, and that a rigid seclusion from company was productive of alassitude as little favourable to active virtue as dissipation itself,she resolved to soften her plan, and by mingling amusement withbenevolence, to try, at least, to approach that golden mean, which, likethe philosopher's stone, always eludes our grasp, yet always invites ourwishes.
For this purpose she desired to attend Mrs Harrel to the next Opera thatshould be represented.
The following Saturday, therefore, she accompanied that lady and MrsMears to the Haymarket, escorted by Mr Arnott.
They were very late; the Opera was begun, and even in the lobby thecrowd was so great that their passage was obstructed. Here they werepresently accosted by Miss Larolles, who, running up to Cecilia andtaking her hand, said, "Lord, you can't conceive how glad I am to seeyou! why, my dear creature, where have you hid yourself these twentyages? You are quite in luck in coming to-night, I assure you; it'sthe best Opera we have had this season: there's such a monstrous crowdthere's no stirring. We shan't get in this half hour. The coffee-room isquite full; only come and see; is it not delightful?"
This intimation was sufficient for Mrs Harrel, whose love of the Operawas merely a love of company, fashion, and shew; and therefore to thecoffee-room she readily led the way.
And here Cecilia found rather the appearance of a brilliant assemblyof ladies and gentlemen, collected merely to see and to entertainone another, than of distinct and casual parties, mixing solely fromnecessity, and waiting only for room to enter a theatre.
The first person that addressed them was Captain Aresby, who, with hisusual delicate languishment, smiled upon Cecilia, and softly whispering,"How divinely you look to-night!" proceeded to pay his compliments tosome other ladies.
"Do, pray, now," cried Miss Larolles, "observe Mr Meadows! only justsee where he has fixed himself! in the very best place in the room, andkeeping the fire from every body! I do assure you that's always his way,and it's monstrous provoking, for if one's ever so cold, he lollops so,that one's quite starved. But you must know there's another thing hedoes that is quite as bad, for if he gets a seat, he never offersto move, if he sees one sinking with fatigue. And besides, if one iswaiting for one's carriage two hours together, he makes it a rule neverto stir a step to see for it. Only think how monstrous!"
"These are heavy complaints, indeed," said Cecilia, looking at himattentively; "I should
have expected from his appearance a verydifferent account of his gallantry, for he seems dressed with morestudied elegance than anybody here."
"O yes," cried Miss Larolles, "he is the sweetest dresser in the world;he has the most delightful taste you can conceive, nobody has half sogood a fancy. I assure you it's a great thing to be spoke to by him: weare all of us quite angry when he won't take any notice of us."
"Is your anger," said Cecilia, laughing, "in honour of himself or of hiscoat?"
"Why, Lord, don't you know all this time that he is an _ennuye_?
"I know, at least," answered Cecilia, "that he would soon make one ofme."
"O, but one is never affronted with an _ennuye_, if he is ever soprovoking, because one always knows what it means."
"Is he agreeable?"
"Why, to tell you the truth,--but pray now, don't mention it,--I thinkhim most excessive disagreeable! He yawns in one's face every timeone looks at him. I assure you sometimes I expect to see him fall fastasleep while I am talking to him, for he is so immensely absent he don'thear one half that one says; only conceive how horrid!"
"But why, then, do you encourage him? why do you take any notice ofhim?"
"O, every body does, I assure you, else I would not for the world; buthe is so courted you have no idea. However, of all things let me adviseyou never to dance with him; I did once myself, and I declare I wasquite distressed to death the whole time, for he was taken with sucha fit of absence he knew nothing he was about, sometimes skipping andjumping with all the violence in the world, just as if he only dancedfor exercise, and sometimes standing quite still, or lolling againstthe wainscoat and gaping, and taking no more notice of me than if he hadnever seen me in his life!"
The Captain now, again advancing to Cecilia, said, "So you would not dous the honour to try the masquerade at the Pantheon? however, I hearyou had a very brilliant spectacle at Mr Harrel's. I was quite _audesespoir_ that I could not get there. I did _mon possible_, but it wasquite beyond me."
"We should have been very happy," said Mrs Harrel, "to have seen you; Iassure you we had some excellent masks."
"So I have heard _partout_, and I am reduced to despair that I could nothave the honour of sliding in. But I was _accable_ with affairs all day.Nothing could be so mortifying."
Cecilia now, growing very impatient to hear the Opera, begged to know ifthey might not make a trial to get into the pit?
"I fear," said the Captain, smiling as they passed him, without offeringany assistance, "you will find it extreme petrifying; for my part, Iconfess I am not upon the principle of crowding."
The ladies, however, accompanied by Mr Arnott, made the attempt, andsoon found, according to the custom of report, that the difficulty, forthe pleasure of talking of it, had been considerably exaggerated. Theywere separated, indeed, but their accommodation was tolerably good.
Cecilia was much vexed to find the first act of the Opera almost over;but she was soon still more dissatisfied when she discovered that shehad no chance of hearing the little which remained: the place she hadhappened to find vacant was next to a party of young ladies, who wereso earnestly engaged in their own discourse, that they listened not to anote of the Opera, and so infinitely diverted with their own witticisms,that their tittering and loquacity allowed no one in their vicinityto hear better than themselves. Cecilia tried in vain to confine herattention to the singers; she was distant from the stage, and to themshe was near, and her fruitless attempts all ended in chagrin andimpatience.
At length she resolved to make an effort for entertainment in anotherway, and since the expectations which brought her to the Opera weredestroyed, to try by listening to her fair neighbours, whether those whooccasioned her disappointment could make her any amends.
For this purpose she turned to them wholly; yet was at first in nolittle perplexity to understand what was going forward, since souniversal was the eagerness for talking, and so insurmountable theantipathy to listening, that every one seemed to have her wishes boundedby a continual utterance of words, without waiting for any answer, orscarce even desiring to be heard.
But when, somewhat more used to their dialect and manner, she beganbetter to comprehend their discourse, wretchedly indeed did it supplyto her the loss of the Opera. She heard nothing but descriptions oftrimmings, and complaints of hair-dressers, hints of conquest thatteemed with vanity, and histories of engagements which were inflatedwith exultation.
At the end of the act, by the crowding forward of the gentlemen tosee the dance, Mrs Harrel had an opportunity of making room for her byherself, and she had then some reason to expect hearing the rest of theOpera in peace, for the company before her, consisting entirely of youngmen, seemed, even during the dance, fearful of speaking, lest theirattention should be drawn for a moment from the stage.
But to her infinite surprize, no sooner was the second act begun, thantheir attention ended! they turned from the performers to each other,and entered into a whispering but gay conversation, which, though notloud enough to disturb the audience in general, kept in the ears oftheir neighbours a buzzing which interrupted all pleasure from therepresentation. Of this effect of their gaiety it seemed uncertainwhether they were conscious, but very evident that they were totallycareless.
The desperate resource which she had tried during the first act, ofseeking entertainment from the very conversation which prevented herenjoying it, was not now even in her power: for these gentlemen, thoughas negligent as the young ladies had been whom they disturbed, were muchmore cautious whom they instructed: their language was ambiguous, andtheir terms, to Cecilia, were unintelligible: their subjects,indeed, required some discretion, being nothing less than a ludicrouscalculation of the age and duration of jointured widows, and of thechances and expectations of unmarried young ladies.
But what more even than their talking provoked her, was finding that themoment the act was over, when she cared not if their vociferation hadbeen incessant, one of them called out, "Come, be quiet, the dance isbegun;" and then they were again all silent attention!
In the third act, however, she was more fortunate; the gentlemen againchanged their places, and they were succeeded by others who came to theOpera not to hear themselves but the performers: and as soon as she waspermitted to listen, the voice of Pacchierotti took from her all desireto hear any thing but itself.
During the last dance she was discovered by Sir Robert Floyer, who,sauntering down fop's alley, stationed himself by her side, and wheneverthe _figurante_ relieved the principal dancers, turned his eyes from thestage to her face, as better worth his notice, and equally destined forhis amusement.
Mr Monckton, too, who for some time had seen and watched her, nowapproached; he had observed with much satisfaction that her whole mindhad been intent upon the performance, yet still the familiarity of SirRobert Floyer's admiration disturbed and perplexed him; he determined,therefore, to make an effort to satisfy his doubts by examining intohis intentions: and, taking him apart, before the dance was quite over,"Well," he said, "who is so handsome here as Harrel's ward?"
"Yes," answered he, calmly, "she is handsome, but I don't like herexpression."
"No? why, what is the fault of it?"
"Proud, cursed proud. It is not the sort of woman I like. If one says acivil thing to her, she only wishes one at the devil for one's pains."
"O, you have tried her, then, have you? why, you are not, in general,much given to say civil things."
"Yes, you know, I said something of that sort to her once about Juliet,at the rehearsal. Was not you by?"
"What, then, was that all? and did you imagine one compliment would doyour business with her?"
"O, hang it, who ever dreams of complimenting the women now? that's allat an end."
"You won't find she thinks so, though; for, as you well say, her prideis insufferable, and I, who have long known her, can assure you it doesnot diminish upon intimacy."
"Perhaps not,--but there's very pretty picking in 3000 pounds per
annum!one would not think much of a little encumbrance upon such an estate."
"Are you quite sure the estate is so considerable? Report is mightilygiven to magnify."
"O, I have pretty good intelligence: though, after all, I don't know butI may be off; she'll take a confounded deal of time and trouble."
Monckton, too much a man of interest and of the world to cherishthat delicacy which covets universal admiration for the object ofits fondness, then artfully enlarged upon the obstacles he alreadyapprehended, and insinuated such others as he believed would bemost likely to intimidate him. But his subtlety was lost upon theimpenetrable Baronet, who possessed that hard insensibility whichobstinately pursues its own course, deaf to what is said, andindifferent to what is thought.
Meanwhile the ladies were now making way to the coffee-room, though veryslowly on account of the crowd; and just as they got near the lobby,Cecilia perceived Mr Belfield, who, immediately making himself knownto her, was offering his service to hand her out of the pit, when SirRobert Floyer, not seeing or not heeding him, pressed forward, and said,"Will you let me have the honour, Miss Beverley, of taking care of you?"
Cecilia, to whom he grew daily more disagreeable, coldly declined hisassistance, while she readily accepted that which had first been offeredher by Mr Belfield.
The haughty Baronet, extremely nettled, forced his way on, and rudelystalking up to Mr Belfield, motioned with his hand for room to pass him,and said, "Make way, sir!"
"Make way for _me_, Sir!" cried Belfield, opposing him with one hand,while with the other he held Cecilia.
"You, Sir? and who are you, Sir?" demanded the Baronet, disdainfully.
"Of that, Sir, I shall give you an account whenever you please,"answered Belfield, with equal scorn.
"What the devil do you mean, Sir?"
"Nothing very difficult to be understood," replied Belfield, andattempted to draw on Cecilia, who, much alarmed, was shrinking back.
Sir Robert then, swelling with rage, reproachfully turned to her,and said, "Will you suffer such an impertinent fellow as that, MissBeverley, to have the honour of taking your hand?"
Belfield, with great indignation, demanded what he meant by the termimpertinent fellow; and Sir Robert yet more insolently repeated it:Cecilia, extremely shocked, earnestly besought them both to be quiet;but Belfield, at the repetition of this insult, hastily let go her handand put his own upon his sword, whilst Sir Robert, taking advantageof his situation in being a step higher than his antagonist, fiercelypushed him back, and descended into the lobby.
Belfield, enraged beyond endurance, instantly drew his sword, and SirRobert was preparing to follow his example, when Cecilia, in an agonyof fright, called out, "Good Heaven! will nobody interfere?" And then ayoung man, forcing his way through the crowd, exclaimed, "For shame, forshame, gentlemen! is this a place for such violence?"
Belfield, endeavouring to recover himself, put up his sword, and, thoughin a voice half choaked with passion, said, "I thank you, Sir! I was offmy guard. I beg pardon of the whole company."
Then, walking up to Sir Robert, he put into his hand a card with hisname and direction, saying, "With you, Sir, I shall be happy to settlewhat apologies are necessary at your first leisure;" and hurried away.
Sir Robert, exclaiming aloud that he should soon teach him to whom hehad been so impertinent, was immediately going to follow him, when theaffrighted Cecilia again called out aloud, "Oh, stop him!--good God!will nobody stop him!"
The rapidity with which this angry scene had passed had filled her withamazement, and the evident resentment of the Baronet upon her refusinghis assistance, gave her an immediate consciousness that she washerself the real cause of the quarrel; while the manner in which he waspreparing to follow Mr Belfield convinced her of the desperate scenewhich was likely to succeed; fear, therefore, overcoming every otherfeeling, forced from her this exclamation before she knew what she said.
The moment she had spoken, the young man who had already interposedagain rushed forward, and seizing Sir Robert by the arm, warmlyremonstrated against the violence of his proceedings, and beingpresently seconded by other gentlemen, almost compelled him to give uphis design.
Then, hastening to Cecilia, "Be not alarmed, madam," he cried, "all isover, and every body is safe."
Cecilia, finding herself thus addressed by a gentleman she had neverbefore seen, felt extremely ashamed of having rendered her interestin the debate so apparent; she courtsied to him in some confusion, andtaking hold of Mrs Harrel's arm, hurried her back into the pit, in orderto quit a crowd, of which she now found herself the principal object.
Curiosity, however, was universally excited, and her retreat servedbut to inflame it: some of the ladies, and most of the gentlemen, uponvarious pretences, returned into the pit merely to look at her, and in afew minutes the report was current that the young lady who had been theoccasion of the quarrel, was dying with love for Sir Robert Floyer.
Mr Monckton, who had kept by her side during the whole affair, feltthunderstruck by the emotion she had shewn; Mr Arnott too, who had neverquitted her, wished himself exposed to the same danger as Sir Robert, sothat he might be honoured with the same concern: but they were both toomuch the dupes of their own apprehensions and jealousy, to perceive thatwhat they instantly imputed to fondness, proceeded simply from generalhumanity, accidentally united with the consciousness of being accessaryto the quarrel.
The young stranger who had officiated as mediator between thedisputants, in a few moments followed her with a glass of water, whichhe had brought from the coffee-room, begging her to drink it and composeherself.
Cecilia, though she declined his civility with more vexation thangratitude, perceived, as she raised her eyes to thank him, that hernew friend was a young man very strikingly elegant in his address andappearance.
Miss Larolles next, who, with her party, came back into the pit, ranup to Cecilia, crying, "O my dear creature, what a monstrous shockingthing! You've no Idea how I am frightened; do you know I happened to bequite at the further end of the coffee-room when it began, and I couldnot get out to see what was the matter for ten ages; only conceive whata situation!"
"Would your fright, then, have been less," said Cecilia, "had you beennearer the danger?"
"O Lord no, for when I came within sight I was fifty times worse! I gavesuch a monstrous scream, that it quite made Mr Meadows start. I dare sayhe'll tell me of it these hundred years: but really when I saw them drawtheir swords I thought I should have died; I was so amazingly surprizedyou've no notion."
Here she was interrupted by the re-appearance of the active stranger,who again advancing to Cecilia, said, "I am in doubt whether the effortsI make to revive will please or irritate you, but though you rejectedthe last cordial I ventured to present you, perhaps you will look with amore favourable eye towards that of which I am now the herald."
Cecilia then, casting her eyes around, saw that he was followed by SirRobert Floyer. Full of displeasure both at this introduction and at hispresence, she turned hastily to Mr Arnott, and entreated him to enquireif the carriage was not yet ready.
Sir Robert, looking at her with all the exultation of new-raised vanity,said, with more softness than he had ever before addressed her, "Haveyou been frightened?"
"Every body, I believe was frightened," answered Cecilia, with an air ofdignity intended to check his rising expectations.
"There was no sort of cause," answered he; "the fellow did not know whomhe spoke [to], that was all."
"Lord, Sir Robert," cried Miss Larolles, "how could you be so shockingas to draw your sword? you can't conceive how horrid it looked."
"Why I did not draw my sword," cried he, "I only had my hand on thehilt."
"Lord, did not you, indeed! well, every body said you did, and I'm sureI thought I saw five-and-twenty swords all at once. I thought one of youwould be killed every moment. It was horrid disagreeable, I assure you."
Sir Robert was now called away by some gentlemen; and
Mr Monckton,earnest to be better informed of Cecilia's real sentiments, said, withaffected concern, "At present this matter is merely ridiculous; I amsorry to think in how short a time it may become more important."
"Surely," cried Cecilia with quickness, "some of their friends willinterfere! surely upon so trifling a subject they will not be so mad, soinexcusable, as to proceed to more serious resentment!"
"Whichever of them," said the stranger, "is most honoured by thisanxiety, will be mad indeed to risk a life so valued!"
"Cannot you, Mr Monckton," continued Cecilia, too much alarmed to regardthis insinuation, "speak with Mr Belfield? You are acquainted with him,I know; is it impossible you can follow him?"
"I will with pleasure do whatever you wish; but still if Sir Robert--"
"O, as to Sir Robert, Mr Harrel, I am very sure, will undertake him; Iwill try to see him to-night myself, and entreat him to exert all hisinfluence."
"Ah, madam," cried the stranger, archly, and lowering his voice, "those_French beads_ and _Bristol stones_ have not, I find, shone in vain!"
At these words Cecilia recognised her white domino acquaintance atthe masquerade; she had before recollected his voice, but was too muchperturbed to consider where or when she had heard it.
"If Mr Briggs," continued he, "does not speedily come forth with hisplum friend, before the glittering of swords and spears is joined tothat of jewels, the glare will be so resplendent, that he will fearto come within the influence of its rays. Though, perhaps, he may onlythink the stronger the light, the better he shall see to count hisguineas: for as
'---in ten thousand pounds Ten thousand charms are centred,'
in an hundred thousand, the charms may have such magic power, that hemay defy the united efforts of tinsel and knight-errantry to deliver youfrom the golden spell."
Here the Captain, advancing to Cecilia, said, "I have been lookingfor you in vain _partout_, but the crowd has been so _accablant_ I wasalmost reduced to despair. Give me leave to hope you are now recoveredfrom the _horreur_ of this little _fracas_?"
Mr Arnott then brought intelligence that the carriage was ready.Cecilia, glad to be gone, instantly hastened to it; and, as she wasconducted by Mr Monckton, most earnestly entreated him to take an activepart, in endeavouring to prevent the fatal consequences with which thequarrel seemed likely to terminate.