CHAPTER ix.
A SUSPENSE.
Delvile had been gone but a short time, before Henrietta, her eyes stillred, though no longer streaming, opened the parlour door, and asked ifshe might come in?
Cecilia wished to be alone, yet could not refuse her.
"Well, madam," cried she, with a forced smile, and constrained air ofbravery, "did not I guess right?"
"In what?" said Cecilia, unwilling to understand her.
"In what I said would happen?--I am sure you know what I mean."
Cecilia, extremely embarrassed, made no answer; she much regretted thecircumstances which had prevented an earlier communication, and wasuncertain whether, now, it would prove most kind or most cruel toacquaint her with what was in agitation, which, should it terminate innothing, was unnecessarily wounding her delicacy for the openness of herconfidence, and which, however serviceable it might prove to her inthe end, was in the means so rough and piercing she felt the utmostrepugnance to the experiment.
"You think me, madam, too free," said Henrietta, "in asking such aquestion; and indeed your kindness has been so great, it may well makeme forget myself: but if it does, I am sure I deserve you should send mehome directly, and then there is not much fear I shall soon be broughtto my senses!"
"No, my dear Henrietta, I can never think you too free; I have toldyou already every thing I thought you would have pleasure in hearing;whatever I have concealed, I have been fearful would only pain you."
"I have _deserved_, madam," said she, with spirit, "to be pained, forI have behaved with the folly of a baby. I am very angry with myselfindeed! I was old enough to have known better,--and I ought to have beenwise enough."
"You must then be angry with yourself, next," said Cecilia, anxiousto re-encourage her, "for all the love that I bear you; since to youropenness and frankness it was entirely owing."
"But there are some things that people should _not_ be frank in;however, I am only come now to beg you will tell me, madam, when it isto be;--and don't think I ask out of nothing but curiosity, for I have avery great reason for it indeed."
"What be, my dear Henrietta?--you are very rapid in your ideas!"
"I will tell you, madam, what my reason is; I shall go away to myown home,--and so I would if it were ten times a worse home than itis!--just exactly the day before. Because afterwards I shall never liketo look that gentleman in the face,--never, never!--for married ladies Iknow are not to be trusted!"
"Be not apprehensive; you have no occasion. Whatever may be my fate, Iwill never be so treacherous as to betray my beloved Henrietta to _any_body."
"May I ask you, madam, one question?"
"Certainly."
"Why did all this never happen before?"
"Indeed," cried Cecilia, much distressed, "I know not that it willhappen now."
"Why what, dear madam, can hinder it?"
"A thousand, thousand things! nothing can be less secure."
"And then I am still as much puzzled as ever. I heard, a good while ago,and we all heard that it was to be; and I thought that it was no wonder,I am sure, for I used often to think it was just what was most likely;but afterwards we heard it was no such thing, and from that moment Ialways believed there had been nothing at all in it."
"I must speak to you, I find, with sincerity; my affairs have long beenin strange perplexity: I have not known myself what to expect; one dayhas perpetually reversed the prospect of another, and my mind has beenin a state of uncertainty and disorder, that has kept it--that stillkeeps it from comfort and from rest!"
"This surprises me indeed, madam! I thought _you_ were all happiness!but I was sure you deserved it, and I thought you had it for thatreward. And this has been the thing that has made me behave so wrong;for I took it into my head I might tell you every thing, because Iconcluded it could be nothing to you; for if great people loved oneanother, I always supposed they married directly; poor people, indeed,must stay till they are able to settle; but what in the whole world,thought I, if they like one another, should hinder such a rich lady asMiss Beverley from marrying such a rich gentleman at once?"
Cecilia now, finding there was no longer any chance for concealment,thought it better to give the poor Henrietta at least the gratificationof unreserved confidence, which might somewhat sooth her uneasiness byproving her reliance in her faith. She frankly, therefore, confessedto her the whole of her situation. Henrietta wept at the recital withbitterness, thought Mr Delvile a monster, and Mrs Delvile herself scarcehuman; pitied Cecilia with unaffected tenderness, and wondered that theperson could exist who had the heart to give grief to young Delvile! Shethanked her most gratefully for reposing such trust in her; and Ceciliamade use of this opportunity, to enforce the necessity of her strugglingmore seriously to recover her indifferency.
She promised she would not fail; and forbore steadily from that time toname Delvile any more: but the depression of her spirits shewed she hadsuffered a disappointment such as astonished even Cecilia. Though modestand humble, she had conceived hopes the most romantic, and thoughshe denied, even to herself, any expectations from Delvile, sheinvoluntarily nourished them with the most sanguine simplicity. Tocompose and to strengthen her became the whole business of Cecilia; who,during her present suspense, could find no other employment in which shecould take any interest.
Mr Monckton, to whom nothing was unknown that related to Cecilia, wassoon informed of Delvile's visit, and hastened in the utmost alarm,to learn its event. She had now lost all the pleasure she had formerlyderived from confiding in him, but though averse and confused, could notwithstand his enquiries.
Unlike the tender Henrietta's was his disappointment at this relation,and his rage at such repeated trials was almost more than he could curb.He spared neither the Delviles for their insolence of mutability inrejecting or seeking her at their pleasure, nor herself for her easinessof submission in being thus the dupe of their caprices. The subjectwas difficult for Cecilia to dilate upon; she wished to clear, as hedeserved, Delvile himself from any share in the censure, and she felthurt and offended at the charge of her own improper readiness; yet shameand pride united in preventing much vindication of either, and she heardalmost in silence what with pain she bore to hear at all.
He now saw, with inexpressible disturbance, that whatever was hispower to make her uneasy, he had none to make her retract, and that theconditional promise she had given Delvile to be wholly governed by hismother, she was firm in regarding to be as sacred as one made at thealtar.
Perceiving this, he dared trust his temper with no further debate; heassumed a momentary calmness for the purpose of taking leave of her,and with pretended good wishes for her happiness, whatever might be herdetermination, he stifled the reproaches with which his whole heart wasswelling, and precipitately left her.
Cecilia, affected by his earnestness, yet perplexed in all her opinions,was glad to be relieved from useless exhortations, and not sorry, in herpresent uncertainty, that his visit was not repeated.
She neither saw nor heard from Delvile for a week, and augured nothingbut evil from such delay. The following letter then came by the post.
_To Miss Beverley. April 2d_, 1780
I must write without comments, for I dare not trust myself with makingany; I must write without any beginning address, for I know not how youwill permit me to address you.
I have lived a life of tumult since last compelled to leave you, andwhen it may subside, I am still in utter ignorance.
The affecting account of the losses you have suffered through yourbeneficence to the Harrels, and the explanatory one of the calumnies youhave sustained from your kindness to the Belfields, I related with theplainness which alone I thought necessary to make them felt. I then toldthe high honour I had received, in meeting with no other repulse to myproposal, than was owing to an inability to accede to it; and informedmy mother of the condescending powers with which you had invested her.In conclusion I mentioned my new scheme, and firmly, before I wouldlisten
to any opposition, I declared that though wholly to theirdecision I left the relinquishing my own name or your fortune, I was notonly by your generosity more internally yours than ever, but that sinceagain I had ventured, and with permission to apply to you, I should holdmyself hence forward unalterably engaged to you.
And so I do, and so I shall! nor, after a renewal so public, will anyprohibition but yours have force to keep me from throwing myself at yourfeet.
My father's answer I will not mention; I would I could forget it! hisprejudices are irremediable, his resolutions are inflexible. Who or whathas worked him into an animosity so irreclaimable, I cannot conjecture,nor will he tell; but something darkly mysterious has part in his wrathand his injustice.
My mother was much affected by your reference to herself. Words of thesweetest praise broke repeatedly from her; no other such woman, shesaid, existed; no other such instance could be found of fidelityso exalted! her son must have no heart but for low and mercenaryselfishness, if, after a proof of regard so unexampled, he could bearto live without her! Oh how did such a sentence from lips so highlyreverenced, animate, delight, confirm, and oblige me at once!
The displeasure of my father at this declaration was dreadful; hischarges, always as improbable as injurious, now became too horriblefor my ears; he disbelieved you had taken up the money for Harrel, hediscredited that you visited the Belfields for Henrietta: passion notmerely banished his justice, but, clouded his reason, and I soon leftthe room, that at least I might not hear the aspersions he forbid me toanswer.
I left not, however, your fame to a weak champion: my mother defended itwith all the spirit of truth, and all the confidence of similar virtue!yet they parted without conviction, and so mutually irritated with eachother, that they agreed to meet no more.
This was too terrible! and I instantly consolidated my resentment tomy father, and my gratitude to my mother, into concessions andsupplications to both; I could not, however, succeed; my mother wasdeeply offended, my father was sternly inexorable: nor here reststhe evil of their dissention, for the violence of the conflict hasoccasioned a return more alarming than ever of the illness of my mother.
All her faith in her recovery is now built upon going abroad; she isearnest to set off immediately; but Dr Lyster has advised her to makeLondon in her way, and have a consultation of physicians before shedeparts.
To this she has agreed; and we are now upon the road thither.
Such is, at present, the melancholy state of my affairs. My mother_advised_ me to write; forgive me, therefore, that I waited notsomething more decisive to say. I could prevail upon neither partyto meet before the journey; nor could I draw from my father the basefabricator of the calumnies by which he has been thus abused.
Unhappily, I have nothing more to add: and whether intelligence, suchas this, or total suspense, would be least irksome, I know not. If mymother bears her journey tolerably well, I have yet one more effortto make; and of that the success or the failure will be instantlycommunicated to Miss Beverley, by her eternally devoted, but halfdistracted.
Mortimer Delvile.
Scarcely could Cecilia herself decide whether this comfortless letteror none at all were preferable. The implacability of Mr Delvile wasshocking, but his slandering her character was still more intolerable;yet the praises of the mother, and her generous vindication, joined tothe invariable reliance of Delvile upon her innocence, conferred uponher an honour that offered some alleviation.
The mention of a fabricator again brought Mr Monckton to her mind, andnot all her unwillingness to think him capable of such treachery, couldnow root out her suspicions. Delvile's temper, however, she knew was tooimpetuous to be trusted with this conjecture, and her fear of committinginjustice being thus seconded by prudence, she determined to keep toherself doubts that could not without danger be divulged.
She communicated briefly to Henrietta, who looked her earnest curiosity,the continuance of her suspense; and to her own fate Henrietta becamesomewhat more reconciled, when she saw that no station in life renderedhappiness certain or permanent.