CHAPTER vi.
A DISTURBANCE.
This matter being settled at breakfast, Cecilia, having but one day moreto spend in London, knew not how to let it pass without taking leave ofHenrietta, though she chose not again to expose herself to the forwardinsinuations of her mother; she sent her, therefore, a short note,begging to see her at Lady Margaret's, and acquainting her that the nextday 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 be alonefor two or three hours together. And so I shall this morning, if itwas possible my dear Miss Beverley could come. But I don't mean to beteasing, and I would not be impertinent or encroaching for the world;but only the thing is I have a great deal to say to you, and if you wasnot so rich a lady, and so much above me, I am sure I should love youbetter than any body in the whole world, almost; and now I dare say Ishan't see you at all; for it rains very hard, and my mother, I know,will be sadly angry if I ask to go in a coach. O dear! I don't knowwhat I can do! for it will half break my heart, if my dear Miss Beverleyshould go out of town, and I not see her!--I am, Madam, with thegreatest 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 the consolationof sympathy,--mine, alas! fettered by prudence, must fly it!"
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 to askit, though it rains so hard I could not have walked to you, and I don'tknow what I should have done, if you had gone away and quite forgot 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 almost entirelyto 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 to pressthe subject, though she came with no other view: Henrietta, however, tooeager to want solicitation, went on.
"But the question is whether we shall be able to prevail upon my brotherto accept any thing, for he grows more and more unwilling to be obliged,and the reason is, that being poor, he is afraid, I believe, peopleshould think he wants to beg of them: though if they knew him as wellas I do, they would not long think that, for I am sure he would a greatdeal rather be starved to death. But indeed, to say the truth, I amafraid he has been sadly to blame in this affair, and quarrelled whenthere was no need to be affronted; for I have seen a gentleman who knowsa great deal better than my brother what people should do, and he sayshe took every thing wrong that was done, all the time he was at LordVannelt'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 be usedill any more than I should myself, so I am sure I may believe what hesays. But my poor brother, not being a lord himself, thought every bodymeant to be rude to him, and because he knew he was poor, he suspectedthey all behaved disrespectfully to him. But this gentleman gave me hisword that every body liked him and esteemed him, and if he would nothave been so suspicious, they would all have done any thing for him inthe 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 to mentionit, 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 come backto us. Perhaps when he does, he will call."
"Do you wish him to call?"
"Me?" cried she, blushing, "a little;--sometimes I do;--for my brother'ssake."
"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 kissing a 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 no notionhow they strike those that they are new to!--but I who see them seldom,and who live with people so very unlike them--Oh you cannot guess howsweet to _me_ is every thing that belongs to them! whatever has butonce been touched by their hands, I should like to lock up, and keep forever! though if I was used to them, as you are, perhaps I might thinkless 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, and thatis the way I have been doing all this time myself; but I don't blame mypoor brother now for living so with the great as I used to do, for nowI have seen a little more of the world, I don't wonder any longer at hisbehaviour: for I know how it is, and I see that those who have had goodeducations, and kept great company, and mixed with the world,--O itis another thing!--they seem quite a different species!--they are sogentle, so soft-mannered! nothing comes from them but what is meantto oblige! they seem as if they only lived to give pleasure to otherpeople, 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 q
uite 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 but honour:yet indulge it not too far, lest it should wander from your heart toyour 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 my brother,and never think of him at all, but just by way of comparing him,sometimes, to the other people that I see, because he makes me hate themso, that I wish I was never to see them again."
"His acquaintance, then," said Cecilia, "has done you but an ill office,and happy it would be for you could you forget you had ever made it."
"O, I shall never do that! for the more I think of him, the more Iam out 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 I thinkyou must be his sister--once, too, I heard--but that was contradicted."
A deep sigh escaped Cecilia at this speech; she guessed too wellwhat she might have heard, and she knew too well how it might becontradicted.
"Surely, _you_ cannot be unhappy, Miss Beverley!" said Henrietta, with alook 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, arethe happiest person in the world! with every thing at your owndisposal,--with every body in love with you, with all the money that youcan wish for, and so much sweetness that nobody can envy you it! withpower to keep just what company you please, and every body proud to beone of the number!--Oh if I could chuse who I would be, I should soonersay Miss 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, who arejust such another as himself--but then, indeed, you may see so many ofthe same sort, that just this one may not so much strike you: and forthat reason I hope with all my heart that he will never be married aslong as he lives, for as he must take some lady in just such high lifeas his own, I should always be afraid that she would never love him asshe 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 to ingratiatehimself into your favour?"
"No, never! but when treated with so much softness, 'tis hard alwaysto remember 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 who waslow: but now, indeed, I must own I have some times wished myself richer!yet he assumes so little, that at other times, I have almost forgot alldistance 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, I havesometimes thought,--my true affection, my faithful fondness, my gladobedience,--might make him, if he did but know them, happier in me thanin 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 hasten unnoticedout of the house, well knowing that to be seen in it would be regardedas a confirmation of all that he had asserted. She whispered, therefore,to Henrietta, that she must instantly run away, but, upon softly openingthe door leading to the passage, she found Mr Delvile's chairmen, and afootman 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 retreat soprivate was worse than any other risk. A chair was also in waiting forherself, but it was a hackney one, and she could not be known by it;and her footman she had fortunately dismissed, as he had business totransact 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 preventany difficulty 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 as torest satisfied with my assurances, that the person with whom you are nowconversing, 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, and myavocations are too many to suffer my infringing that time. You say youhave a son; I have heard of him, also, s
omewhere before; pray will yougive me leave to enquire--I don't mean to go deep into the matter,--butparticular family occurrences make it essential for me to know,--whetherthere is not a young person of rather a capital fortune, to whom he issupposed 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 no suchyoung 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 own mother!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 interruptedMr Delvile, "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 payno more 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, anew step 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;to find 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 toher seat, 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. But come,suppose we were all to sit down? Sitting's as cheap as standing, andwhat 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 name of.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 knowing thegentleman, being I have been in his company but once; and what I say is,to know a person if one leaves but a quart in a hogshead, it's two pintstoo much. That's my notion. But, Sir, that was but an ungain businessat 'Squire Monckton's t'other morning. Every body was no-how, as one maysay. But, Sir, if I may be so free, pray what is your private opinion ofthat old gentleman that talked so much out of the way?"
"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'sa thing 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, whyits tantamount 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'swhat _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, I shouldnot 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 of gentlemen'sgoing about in that manner, being I never did it myself. But I havenothing to offer against that; let every man have his own way; that'swhat _I_ say. Only just let me ask the lady before I go, what's themeaning of my seeing two chairs in the entry, and only a person for onein the parlour? The gentleman, I suppose, did not come in _both_; ha!ha! ha!"
"Why now you put me in mind," said Mrs Belfield, "I saw a chair assoon as 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 I shallmake 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's dirtenough of one's own, without taking people out of the streets to helpone. 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 of thewindow to avoid being discovered; but all plan of escape was too late;Mrs Belfield called aloud for her daughter, and then, returning to thefront parlour, said, "I'll soon know if there's company come to my housewithout my knowing it!" and opened a door leading to the next room!
Cecilia, who had hitherto sat fixed to her chair, now hastily arose, butin a confusion too cruel for speech: Belfield, wondering even at his ownsituation, and equally concerned and surprised at her evident distress,had himself the feeling of a culprit, though without the least knowledgeof any cause: and Henrietta, terrified at the prospect of her mother'sanger, 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, the realcircumstances--"
"I would by no means occasion you such unnecessary trouble, ma'am,"answered he, with an air at once exulting and pompous, "the situation inwhich I see you abundantly satisfies my curiosity, and saves me from theapprehension 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, butappear marks irrefragable that his charge in his former conversationwas rather mild than over-strained, and that the connection he hadmentioned, for whatever motives denied, was incontestably 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 his character;and it was evident, notwithstanding his parading pretensions of wishingher welfare, that his inordinate pride was inflamed, at the verysupposition 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 disdainedeven to 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, to her,was either her defence or accusation? She had solemnly renounced allfurther intercourse with her, she had declared against writing again,and prohibited her letters: and, therefore, after much fluctuation ofopinion, her delicacy concurred with her judgment, to conclude it wouldbe most proper, in a situation so intricate, to leave the matter tochance, and commit her character to time.
In the evening, while she was at tea with Lady Margaret and Miss Bennet,she was suddenly called out to speak to a young woman; and found, to hergreat 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,to beg 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 to consultother authors, and had very few books at their lodgings: but she wouldnot mention that the room was his, lest Cecilia should object tomaking 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 coun
tenance 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 house inthe 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.