CHAPTER i. -- A RENOVATION.
Cecilia was accompanied by her maid in the chaise, and her own servantand one of Mrs Delvile's attended her on horseback.
The quietness of her dejection was soon interrupted by a loud cryamong the men of "home! home! home!" She then looked out of one of thewindows, and perceived Fidel, running after the carriage, and barking atthe servants, who were all endeavouring to send him back.
Touched by this proof of the animal's gratitude for her attention tohim, and conscious she had herself occasioned his master's leaving him,the scheme of Lady Honoria occurred to her, and she almost wished to putit in execution, but this was the thought of a moment, and motioning himwith her hand to go back, she desired Mrs Delvile's man to return withhim immediately, and commit him to the care of somebody in the castle.
This little incident, however trifling, was the most important of herjourney, for she arrived at the house of Mrs Charlton without meetingany other.
The sight of that lady gave her a sensation of pleasure to which shehad long been a stranger, pleasure pure, unmixed, unaffected andunrestrained; it revived all her early affection, and with it, somethingresembling at least her early tranquility; again she was in the housewhere it had once been undisturbed, again she enjoyed the society whichwas once all she had wished, and again saw the same scene, the samefaces, and same prospects she had beheld while her heart was all devotedto her friends.
Mrs Charlton, though old and infirm, preserved an understanding, which,whenever unbiassed by her affections, was sure to direct her unerringly;but the extreme softness of her temper frequently misled her judgment,by making it, at the pleasure either of misfortune or of artifice,always yield to compassion, and pliant to entreaty. Where her counseland opinion were demanded, they were certain to reflect honour on hercapacity and discernment; but where her assistance or her pity weresupplicated, her purse and her tears were immediately bestowed, and inher zeal to alleviate distress she forgot if the object were deservingher solicitude, and stopt not to consider propriety or discretion, ifhappiness, however momentary, were in her power to grant.
This generous foible was, however, kept somewhat in subjection by thewatchfulness of two grand-daughters, who, fearing the injury theymight themselves receive from it, failed not to point out both itsinconvenience and its danger.
These ladies were daughters of a deceased and only son of Mrs Charlton;they were single, and lived with their grand-mother, whose fortune,which was considerable, they expected to share between them, and theywaited with eagerness for the moment of appropriation; narrow-minded andrapacious, they wished to monopolize whatever she possessed, and thoughtthemselves aggrieved by her smallest donations. Their chief employmentwas to keep from her all objects of distress, and in this though theycould not succeed, they at least confined her liberality to such asresembled themselves; since neither the spirited could brook, nor thedelicate support the checks and rebuffs from the granddaughters, whichfollowed the gifts of Mrs Charlton. Cecilia, of all her acquaintance,was the only one whose intimacy they encouraged, for they knew herfortune made her superior to any mercenary views, and they received fromher themselves more civilities than they paid.
Mrs Charlton loved Cecilia with an excess of fondness, that not onlytook place of the love she bore her other friends, but to which even herregard for the Miss Charltons was inferior and feeble. Cecilia when achild had reverenced her as a mother, and, grateful for her tendernessand care, had afterwards cherished her as a friend. The revival of thisearly connection delighted them both, it was balm to the wounded mind ofCecilia, it was renovation to the existence of Mrs Charlton.
Early the next morning she wrote a card to Mr Monckton and LadyMargaret, acquainting them with her return into Suffolk, and desiring toknow when she might pay her respects to her Ladyship. She received fromthe old lady a verbal answer, when she pleased, but Mr Monckton cameinstantly himself to Mrs Charlton's.
His astonishment, his rapture at this unexpected incident were almostboundless; he thought it a sudden turn of fortune in his own favour, andconcluded, now she had escaped the danger of Delvile Castle, the roadwas short and certain that led to his own security.
Her satisfaction in the meeting was as sincere, though not so animatedas his own; but this similarity in their feelings was of short duration,for when he enquired into what had passed at the castle, with thereasons of her quitting it, the pain she felt in giving even a cursoryand evasive account, was opposed on his part by the warmest delight inhearing it; he could not obtain from her the particulars of whathad happened, but the reluctance with which she spoke, the air ofmortification with which she heard his questions, and the evidentdispleasure which was mingled in her chagrin, when he forced her tomention Delvile, were all proofs the most indisputable and satisfactory,that they had either parted without any explanation, or with one bywhich Cecilia had been hurt and offended.
He now readily concluded that since the fiery trial he had mostapprehended was over; and she had quitted in anger the asylum she hadsought in extacy, Delvile himself did not covet the alliance, which,since they were separated, was never likely to take place. He hadtherefore little difficulty in promising all success to himself.
She was once more upon the spot where she had regarded him as thefirst of men, he knew that during her absence no one had settled inthe neighbourhood who had any pretensions to dispute with him thatpre-eminence, he should again have access to her, at pleasure, and sosanguine grew his hopes, that he almost began to rejoice even in thepartiality to Delvile that had hitherto been his terror, from believingit would give her for a time, that sullen distaste of all otherconnections, to which those who at once are delicate and fervent arecommonly led by early disappointment. His whole solicitude thereforenow was to preserve her esteem, to seek her confidence, and to regainwhatever by absence might be lost of the [ascendancy] over her mindwhich her respect for his knowledge and capacity had for many yearsgiven him. Fortune at this time seemed to prosper all his views, and,by a stroke the most sudden and unexpected, to render more rationalhis hopes and his plans than he had himself been able to effect by theutmost craft of worldly wisdom.
The day following Cecilia, in Mrs Charlton's chaise, waited upon LadyMargaret. She was received by Miss Bennet, her companion, with the mostfawning courtesy; but when conducted to the lady of the house, she sawherself so evidently unwelcome, that she even regretted the civilitywhich had prompted her visit.
She found with her nobody but Mr Morrice, who was the only young manthat could persuade himself to endure her company in the absence of herhusband, but who, in common with most young men who are assiduous intheir attendance upon old ladies, doubted not but he ensured himself ahandsome legacy for his trouble.
Almost the first speech which her ladyship made, was "So you are notmarried yet, I find; if Mr Monckton had been a real friend, he wouldhave taken care to have seen for some establishment for you."
"I was by no means," cried Cecilia, with spirit, "either in so muchhaste or distress as to require from Mr Monckton any such exertion ofhis friendship."
"Ma'am," cried Morrice, "what a terrible night we had of it at Vauxhall!poor Harrel! I was really excessively sorry for him. I had not courageto see you or Mrs Harrel after it. But as soon as I heard you were inSt James's-square, I tried to wait upon you; for really going to MrHarrel's again would have been quite too dismal. I would rather have runa mile by the side of a race-horse."
"There is no occasion for any apology," said Cecilia, "for I was verylittle disposed either to see or think of visitors."
"So I thought, ma'am;" answered he, with quickness, "and really thatmade me the less alert in finding you out. However, ma'am, next winterI shall be excessively happy to make up for the deficiency; besides, Ishall be much obliged to you to introduce me to Mr Delvile, for I have agreat desire to be acquainted with him."
Mr Delvile, thought Cecilia, would be but too proud to hear it! However,she merely answered that she had no present prospect
of spending anytime at Mr. Delvile's next winter.
"True, ma'am, true," cried he, "now I recollect, you become your ownmistress between this and then; and so I suppose you will naturallychuse a house of your own, which will be much more eligible."
"I don't think that," said Lady Margaret, "I never saw anything eligiblecome of young women's having houses of their own; she will do a muchbetter thing to marry, and have some proper person to take care of her."
"Nothing more right, ma'am!" returned he; "a young lady in a houseby herself must be subject to a thousand dangers. What sort of place,ma'am, has Mr Delvile got in the country? I hear he has a good deal ofground there, and a large house."
"It is an old castle, Sir, and situated in a park."
"That must be terribly forlorn; I dare say, ma'am, you were very happyto return into Suffolk."
"I did not find it forlorn; I was very well satisfied with it."
"Why, indeed, upon second thoughts, I don't much wonder; an old castlein a large park must make a very romantic appearance; something noble init, I dare say."
"Aye," cried Lady Margaret, "they said you were to become mistress ofit, and marry Mr Delvile's son and I cannot, for my own part, see anyobjection to it."
"I am told of so many strange reports," said Cecilia, "and all, tomyself so unaccountable, that I begin now to hear of them without muchwonder."
"That's a charming young man, I believe," said Morrice; "I had thepleasure once or twice of meeting him at poor Harrel's, and he seemedmighty agreeable. Is not he so, ma'am?"
"Yes,--I believe so."
"Nay, I don't mean to speak of him as any thing very extraordinary,"cried Morrice, imagining her hesitation proceeded from dislike, "Imerely meant as the world goes,--in a common sort of a way."
Here they were joined by Mr Monckton and some gentlemen who were on avisit at his house; for his anxiety was not of a sort to lead him tosolitude, nor his disposition to make him deny himself any kind ofenjoyment which he had power to attain. A general conversation ensued,which lasted till Cecilia ended her visit; Mr Monckton then took herhand to lead her to the chaise, but told her, in their way out, of somealterations in his grounds, which he desired to shew her; his viewof detaining her was to gather what she thought of her reception, andwhether she had yet any suspicions of the jealousy of Lady Margaret;well knowing, from the delicacy of her character, that if once shebecame acquainted with it, she would scrupulously avoid all intercoursewith him, from the fear of encreasing her uneasiness.
He began, therefore, with talking of the pleasure which Lady Margarettook in the plantations, and of his hope that Cecilia would often favourher by visiting them, without waiting to have her visits returned, asshe was entitled by her infirmities to particular indulgencies. He wascontinuing in this strain, receiving from Cecilia hardly any answer,when suddenly from behind a thick laurel bush, jumpt up Mr Morrice; whohad run out of the house by a shorter cut, and planted himself there tosurprise them.
"So ho!" cried he with a loud laugh, "I have caught you! This will be afine anecdote for Lady Margaret; I vow I'll tell her."
Mr Monckton, never off his guard, readily answered "Aye, prithee do,Morrice; but don't omit to relate also what we said of yourself."
"Of me?" cried he, with some eagerness; "why you never mentioned me."
"O that won't pass, I assure you; we shall tell another tale at table byand by; and bring the old proverb of the ill luck of listeners upon youin its full force."
"Well, I'll be hanged if I know what you mean!"
"Why you won't pretend you did not hear Miss Beverley say you were thetruest Ouran Outang, or man-monkey, she ever knew?"
"No, indeed, that I did not!
"No?--Nor how much she admired your dexterity in escaping beinghorse-whipt three times a day for your incurable impudence?"
"Not a word on't! Horse-whipt!--Miss Beverley, pray did you say any suchthing?"
"Ay," cried Monckton, again, "and not only horse-whipt, buthorse-ponded, for she thought when, one had heated, the other might coolyou; and then you might be fitted again for your native woods, forshe insists upon it you was brought from Africa, and are not yet halftamed."
"O Lord!" cried Morrice, amazed, "I should not have suspected MissBeverley would have talked so!"
"And do you suspect she did now?" cried Cecilia.
"Pho, pho," cried Monckton, coolly, "why he heard it himself the wholetime! and so shall all our party by and bye, if I can but remember tomention it."
Cecilia then returned to the chaise, leaving Mr Monckton to settle thematter with his credulous guest as he pleased; for supposing he wasmerely gratifying a love of sport, or taking this method of checking thegeneral forwardness of the young man, she forbore any interferencethat might mar his intention. But Mr Monckton loved not to be ralliedconcerning Cecilia, though he was indifferent to all that could be saidto him of any other woman; he meant, therefore, to intimidate Morricefrom renewing the subject; and he succeeded to his wish; poor Morrice,whose watching and whose speech were the mere blunders of chance,made without the slightest suspicion of Mr Monckton's designs, nowapprehended some scheme to render himself ridiculous, and though hedid not believe Cecilia had made use of such expressions, he fancied MrMonckton meant to turn the laugh against him, and determined, therefore,to say nothing that might remind him of what had passed.
Mr Monckton had at this time admitted him to his house merely from anexpectation of finding more amusement in his blundering and giddiness,than he was capable, during his anxiety concerning Cecilia, of receivingfrom conversation of an higher sort. The character of Morrice was,indeed, particularly adapted for the entertainment of a large house inthe country; eager for sport, and always ready for enterprize; willingto oblige, yet tormented with no delicacy about offending; the first topromote mischief for any other, and the last to be offended when exposedto it himself; gay, thoughtless, and volatile,-a happy composition oflevity and good-humour.
Cecilia, however, to quitting the house, determined not to visit itagain very speedily; for she was extremely disgusted with Lady Margaret,though she suspected no particular motives of enmity, against whichshe was guarded alike by her own unsuspicious innocence, and by an highesteem of Mr Monckton, which she firmly believed he returned with equalhonesty of undesigning friendship.
Her next excursion was to visit Mrs Harrel; she found that unhappy ladya prey to all the misery of unoccupied solitude; torn from whatever had,to her, made existence seem valuable, her mind was as listless as herperson was inactive, and she was at a loss how to employ even a momentof the day; she had now neither a party to form, nor an entertainment toplan, company to arrange, nor dress to consider; and these, with visitsand public places, had filled all her time since her marriage, which,as it had happened very early in her life, had merely taken place ofgirlish amusements, masters and governesses.
This helplessness of insipidity, however, though naturally the effectof a mind devoid of all genuine resources, was dignified by herself withthe appellation of sorrow; nor was this merely a screen to the world;unused to investigate her feelings or examine her heart, the generalcompassion she met for the loss of her husband, persuaded her thatindeed she lamented his destiny; though had no change in her life beencaused by his suicide, she would scarcely, when the first shock wasover, have thought of it again.
She received Cecilia with great pleasure; and with still greater, heardthe renewal of her promises to fit up a room for her in her house, assoon as she came of age; a period which now was hardly a month distant.Far greater, however, as well as infinitely purer, was the joy which herpresence bestowed upon Mr Arnott; she saw it herself with a sensation ofregret, not only at the constant passion which occasioned it, but evenat her own inability to participate in or reward it for with him analliance would meet with no opposition; his character was amiable,his situation in life unexceptionable; he loved her with the tenderestaffection, and no pride, she well knew, would interfere to overpower it;yet, in return, to gra
nt him her love, she felt as utterly impossibleas to refuse him her esteem; and the superior attractions of Delvile, ofwhich neither displeasure nor mortification could rob him, shut up herheart, for the present, more firmly than ever, as Mr Monckton had wellimagined, to all other assailants. Yet she by no means weakly gave wayto repining or regret; her suspence was at an end, her hopes and herfears were subsided into certainty; Delvile, in quitting her, hadacquainted her that he had left her for ever, and even, though not,indeed, with much steadiness, had prayed for her happiness in union withsome other; she held it therefore as essential to her character as toher peace, to manifest equal fortitude in subduing her partiality; sheforbore to hint to Mrs Charlton what had passed, that the subject mightnever be started; allowed herself no time for dangerous recollection;strolled in her old walks, and renewed her old acquaintance, and bya vigorous exertion of active wisdom, doubted not compleating, beforelong, the subjection of her unfortunate tenderness. Nor was her taskso difficult as she had feared; resolution, in such cases, may act theoffice of time, and anticipate by reason and self-denial, what that,much less nobly, effects through forgetfulness and inconstancy.