CHAPTER iv. -- A RATTLE.
At this time, the house was much enlivened by a visit from Lady HonoriaPemberton, who came to spend a month with Mrs Delvile.
Cecilia had now but little leisure, for Lady Honoria would hardly resta moment away from her; she insisted upon walking with her, sitting withher, working with her, and singing with her; whatever she did, she choseto do also; wherever she went, she was bent upon accompanying her; andMrs Delvile, who wished her well, though she had no patience with herfoibles, encouraged this intimacy from the hope it might do her service.
It was not, however, that Lady Honoria had conceived any regard forCecilia; on the contrary, had she been told she should see her no more,she would have heard it with the same composure as if she had been toldshe should meet with her daily; she had no motive for pursuing her butthat she had nothing else to do, and no fondness for her society but,what resulted from aversion to solitude.
Lady Honoria had received a fashionable education, in which herproficiency had been equal to what fashion made requisite; she sunga little; played the harpsichord a little, painted a little, worked alittle, and danced a great deal. She had quick parts and high spirits,though her mind was uncultivated, and she was totally void of judgmentor discretion; she was careless of giving offence, and indifferentto all that was thought of her; the delight of her life was to createwonder by her rattle, and whether that wonder was to her advantage ordiscredit, she did not for a moment trouble herself to consider.
A character of so much levity with so little heart had no great chanceof raising esteem or regard in Cecilia, who at almost any other periodof her life would have been wearied of her importunate attendance; butat present, the unsettled state of her own mind made her glad to give itany employment, and the sprightliness of Lady Honoria served thereforeto amuse her. Yet she could not forbear being hurt by finding that thebehaviour of Delvile was so exactly the same to them both, thatany common observer would with difficulty have pronounced which hepreferred.
One morning about a week after her ladyship's arrival at the castle, shecame running into Cecilia's room, saying she had very good news for her.
"A charming opening!" cried Cecilia, "pray tell it me."
"Why my Lord Derford is coming!"
"O what a melancholy dearth of incident," cried Cecilia, "if this isyour best intelligence!"
"Why it's better than nothing; better than going to sleep over a familyparty; and I vow I have sometimes such difficulty to keep awake, thatI am frightened to death lest I should be taken with a sudden nap, andaffront them all. Now pray speak the truth without squeamishness, don'tyou find it very terrible?"
"No, I find nothing very terrible with Mrs Delvile."
"O, I like Mrs Delvile, too, of all things, for I believe she's thecleverest woman in the world; but then I know she does not like me, sothere's no being very fond of her. Besides, really, if I admired her asmuch again, I should be, dreadfully tired of seeing nothing else. Shenever stirs out, you know, and has no company at home, which is anextremely tiresome plan, for it only serves to make us all doubly sickof one another; though you must know it's one great reason why my fatherlikes I should come; for he has some very old-fashioned notions, thoughI take a great deal of pains to make him get the better of them. But Iam always excessively rejoiced when the visit has been paid, for I amobliged to come every year. I don't mean now, indeed, because your beinghere makes it vastly more tolerable."
"You do me much honour," cried Cecilia, laughing.
"But really, when my Lord Derford comes, it can't possibly be quite sobad, for at least there will be something else to look at; and you mustknow my eyes tire extremely of always seeing the same objects. And wecan ask him, too, for a little news, and that will put Mrs Delvile ina passion, which will help to give us a little spirit; though I know weshall not get the smallest intelligence from him, for he knows nothingin the world that's going forward. And, indeed, that's no great matter,for if he did, he would not know how to tell it, he's so excessivelysilly. However, I shall ask him all sort of things, for the less hecan answer, the more it will plague him; and I like to plague a foolamazingly, because he can never plague one again.--Though really I oughtto beg your pardon, for he is one of your admirers."
"Oh pray make no stranger of me! you have my free consent to saywhatever you please of him."
"I assure you, then, I like my old Lord Ernolf the best of the two,for he has a thousand times more sense than his son, and upon my word Idon't think he is much uglier. But I wonder vastly you would not marryhim, for all that, for you might have done exactly what you pleased withhim, which, altogether, would have been no inconvenient circumstance."
"When I want a pupil," answered Cecilia, "I shall think that anadmirable recommendation; but were I to marry, I would rather find atutor, of the two."
"I am sure I should not," cried Lady Honoria, carelessly, "for onehas enough to do with tutors before hand, and the best thing I know ofmarrying is to get rid of them. I fancy you think so too, only it's apretty speech to make. Oh how my sister Euphrasia would adore you!--Prayare you always as grave as you are now?"
"No,--yes,--indeed I hardly know."
"I fancy it's this dismal place that hurts your spirits. I remember whenI saw you in St James's-square I thought you very lively. But reallythese thick walls are enough to inspire the vapours if one never hadthem before."
"I don't think they have had a very bad effect upon your ladyship!"
"O yes they have; if Euphrasia was here she would hardly know me. Andthe extreme want of taste and entertainment in all the family is quitemelancholy; for even if by chance one has the good fortune to hear anyintelligence, Mrs Delvile will hardly let it be repeated, for fear itshould happen to be untrue, as if that could possibly signify! I am sureI had as lieve the things were false as not, for they tell as well oneway as the other, if she would but have patience to hear them. But she'sextremely severe, you know, as almost all those very clever women are;so that she keeps a kind of restraint upon me whether I will or no.However, that's nothing compared to her caro sposo, for he is utterlyinsufferable; so solemn, and so dull! so stately and so tiresome!Mortimer, too, gets worse and worse; O 'tis a sad tribe! I dare say hewill soon grow quite as horrible as his father. Don't you think so?"
"Why indeed,--no,--I don't think there's much resemblance," saidCecilia, with some hesitation.
"He is the most altered creature," continued her ladyship, "I eversaw in my life. Once I thought him the most agreeable young man in theworld; but if you observe, that's all over now, and he is getting justas stupid and dismal as the rest of them. I wish you had been here lastsummer; I assure you, you would quite have fallen in love with him."
"Should I?" said Cecilia, with a conscious smile.
"Yes, for he was quite delightful; all spirit and gaiety, but now, ifit was not for you, I really think I should pretend to lose my way, andinstead of going over that old draw-bridge, throw myself into the moat.I wish Euphrasia was here. It's just the right place for her. She'llfancy herself in a monastery as soon as she comes, and nothing will makeher half so happy, for she is always wishing to be a Nun, poor littlesimpleton.
"Is there any chance that Lady Euphrasia may come?"
"O no, she can't at present, because it would not be proper; but I meanif ever she is married to Mortimer."
"Married to him!" repeated Cecilia, in the utmost consternation.
"I believe, my dear," cried Lady Honoria, looking at her very archly,"you intend to be married to him yourself?"
"Me? no, indeed!"
"You look very guilty, though," cried she laughing, "and indeed when youcame hither, every body said that the whole affair was arranged."
"For shame, Lady Honoria!" said Cecilia, again changing colour, "I amsure this must be your own fancy,--invention,--"
"No, I assure you; I heard it at several places; and every body said howcharmingly your fortune would build up all these old fortifications;but some people said
they knew Mr Harrel had sold you to Mr Marriot, andthat if you married Mortimer, there would be a lawsuit that would takeaway half your estate; and others said you had promised your hand to SirRobert Floyer, and repented when you heard of his mortgages, and he gaveit out every where that he would fight any man that pretended to you;and then again some said that you were all the time privately married toMr Arnott, but did not dare own it, because he was so afraid of fightingwith Sir Robert."
"O Lady Honoria!" cried Cecilia, half laughing, "what wild inventionsare these! and all I hope, your own?"
"No, indeed, they were current over the whole town. But don't take anynotice of what I told you about Euphrasia, for perhaps, it may neverhappen."
"Perhaps," said Cecilia, reviving by believing it all fiction, "it hasnever been in agitation?"
"O yes; it is negociating at this very moment, I believe, among thehigher powers; only Mr Delvile does not yet know whether Euphrasia hasfortune enough for what he wants."
Ah, thought Cecilia, how do I rejoice that my independent situationexempts me from being disposed of for life, by thus being set up tosale!
"They thought of me, once, for Mortimer," continued Lady Honoria, "butI'm vastly glad that's over, for I never should have survived being shutup in this place; it's much fitter for Euphrasia. To tell you the truth,I believe they could not make out money enough; but Euphrasia has afortune of her own, besides what we shall have together, for Grandmamaleft her every thing that was in her own power."
"Is Lady Euphrasia your elder sister?"
"O no, poor little thing, she's two years younger. Grandmama broughther up, and` she has seen nothing at all of the world, for she has neverbeen presented yet, so she is not come out, you know; but she's to comeout next year. However, she once saw Mortimer, but she did not like himat all."
"Not like him!" cried Cecilia, greatly surprised.
"No, she thought him too gay,--Oh dear, I wish she could see him now!I am sure I hope she would find him sad enough! she is the most formallittle grave thing you ever beheld; she'll preach to you sometimes forhalf an hour together. Grandmama taught her nothing in the world but tosay her prayers, so that almost every other word you say, she thinks isquite wicked."
The conversation was now interrupted by their separating to dress fordinner. It left Cecilia in much perplexity; she knew not what wholly tocredit, or wholly to disbelieve; but her chief concern arose from theunfortunate change of countenance which Lady Honoria had been so quickin observing.
The next time she was alone with Mrs Delvile, "Miss Beverley," she said,"has your little rattling tormentor acquainted you who is coming?"
"Lord Derford, do you mean, ma'am?"
"Yes, with his father; shall you dislike to see them?"
"Not if, as I hope, they come merely to wait upon you and Mr Delvile."
"Mr Delvile and myself," answered she smiling, "will certainly have thehonour of receiving them."
"Lord Ernolf," said Cecilia, "can never suppose his visit will make anychange in me; I have been very explicit with him, and he seemed equallyrational and well bred in forbearing any importunity upon the subject."
"It has however been much believed in town," said Mrs Delvile, "thatyou were strangely shackled by Mr Harrel, and therefore his lordshipmay probably hope that a change in your situation may be followed by achange in his favour."
"I shall be sorry if he does," said Cecilia, "for he will then findhimself much deceived."
"You are right, very right," cried Mrs Delvile, "to be difficult in yourchoice, and to take time for looking around you before you make any. Ihave forborn all questions upon this subject, lest you should find anyreluctance in answering them; but I am now too deeply interested in yourwelfare to be contented in total ignorance of your designs; will you,then, suffer me to make a few enquiries?"
Cecilia gave a ready, but blushing assent.
"Tell me, then, of the many admirers who have graced your train,which there is you have distinguished with any intention of futurepreference?"
"Not one, madam!"
"And, out of so many, is there not one that, hereafter, you mean todistinguish?"
"Ah madam!" cried Cecilia, shaking her head, "many as they may seem, Ihave little reason to be proud of them; there is one only who, had myfortune been smaller, would, I believe, ever have thought of me, andthere is one only, who, were it now diminished, would ever think of memore."
"This sincerity," cried Mrs Delvile, "is just what I expected from you.There is, then, one?"
"I believe there is,--and the worthy Mr Arnott is the man; I am muchindeed deceived, if his partiality for me is not truly disinterested,and I almost wish"--
"What, my love?"
"That I could return it more gratefully!"
"And do you not?"
"No!--I cannot! I esteem him, I have the truest regard for hischaracter, and were I now by any fatal necessity, compelled to belongto any one of those who have been pleased to address me, I should nothesitate a moment in shewing him my gratitude; but yet, for some time atleast, such a proof of it would render me very miserable."
"You may perhaps think so now," returned Mrs Delvile; "but withsentiments so strongly in his favour, you will probably be led hereafterto pity--and accept him."
"No, indeed, madam; I pretend not, I own, to open my whole heart toyou;--I know not that you would have patience, for so uninteresting adetail; but though there are some things I venture not to mention, thereis nothing, believe me, in which I will deceive you."
"I do believe you," cried Mrs Delvile, embracing her; "and the morereadily because, not merely among your avowed admirers, but among thewhole race of men, I scarce know one to whom I should think you worthilyconsigned!"
Ah! thought Cecilia, that scarce! who may it mean to except?
"To shew you," she continued, "that I will deserve your confidence infuture, I will refrain from distressing you by any further questions atpresent; you will not, I think, act materially without consulting me,and for your thoughts--it were tyranny, not friendship, to investigatethem more narrowly."
Cecilia's gratitude for this delicacy, would instantly have inducedher to tell every secret of her soul, had she not apprehended such aconfession would have seemed soliciting her interest and assistance, inthe only affair in which she would have disdained even to receive them.
She thanked her, therefore, for her kindness, and the conversation wasdropt; she much wished to have known whether these enquiries sprungsimply from friendly curiosity, or whether she was desirous fromany nearer motive to be satisfied with respect to her freedom orengagements. This, however, she had no method of discovering, and wastherefore compelled to wait quietly till time should make it clear.