CHAPTER iii.
A CONSTERNATION.
The journey was melancholy and tedious: Mrs Charlton, extremely fatiguedby the unusual hurry and exercise both of mind and body which she hadlately gone through, was obliged to travel very slowly, and to lie uponthe road. Cecilia, however, was in no haste to proceed: she was going tono one she wished to see, she was wholly without expectation of meetingwith any thing that could give her pleasure. The unfortunate expeditionin which she had been engaged, left her now nothing but regret, and onlypromised her in future sorrow and mortification.
Mrs Charlton, after her return home, still continued ill, and Cecilia,who constantly attended her, had the additional affliction of imputingher indisposition to herself. Every thing she thought conspired topunish the error she had committed; her proceedings were discovered,though her motives were unknown; the Delvile family could not fail tohear of her enterprize, and while they attributed it to her temerity,they would exult in its failure: but chiefly hung upon her mind theunaccountable prohibition of her marriage. Whence that could proceedshe was wholly without ability to divine, yet her surmizes were not morefruitless than various. At one moment she imagined it some frolic ofMorrice, at another some perfidy of Monckton, and at another an idleand unmeaning trick of some stranger to them all. But none of thesesuppositions carried with them any air of probability; Morrice, even ifhe had watched their motions and pursued them to the church, which hisinquisitive impertinence made by no means impossible, could yet hardlyhave either time or opportunity to engage any woman in so extraordinaryan undertaking; Mr Monckton, however averse to the connection, sheconsidered as a man of too much honour to break it off in a manner soalarming and disgraceful; and mischief so wanton in any stranger, seemedto require a share of unfeeling effrontery, which could fall to the lotof so few as to make this suggestion unnatural and incredible.
Sometimes she imagined that Delvile might formerly have been affiancedto some woman, who having accidentally discovered his intentions,took this desperate method of rendering them abortive: but this was ashort-lived thought, and speedily gave way to her esteem for his generalcharacter, and her confidence in the firmness of his probity.
All, therefore, was dark and mysterious; conjecture was baffled, andmeditation was useless. Her opinions were unfixed, and her heart wasmiserable; she could only be steady in believing Delvile as unhappy asherself, and only find consolation in believing him, also, as blameless.
Three days passed thus, without incident or intelligence; her timewholly occupied in attending Mrs Charlton; her thoughts all engrossedupon her own situation: but upon the fourth day she was informed that alady was in the parlour, who desired to speak with her.
She presently went down stairs,--and, upon entering the room, perceivedMrs Delvile!
Seized with astonishment and fear, she stopt short, and, looking aghast,held by the door, robbed of all power to receive so unexpected andunwelcome a visitor, by an internal sensation of guilt, mingled with adread of discovery and reproach.
Mrs Delvile, addressing her with the coldest politeness, said, "I fearI have surprised you; I am sorry I had not time to acquaint you of myintention to wait upon you."
Cecilia then, moving from the door, faintly answered, "I cannot, madam,but be honoured by your notice, whenever you are pleased to confer it."
They then sat down; Mrs Delvile preserving an air the most formal anddistant, and Cecilia half sinking with apprehensive dismay.
After a short and ill-boding silence, "I mean not," said Mrs Delvile,"to embarrass or distress you; I will not, therefore, keep you insuspense of the purport of my visit. I come not to make enquiries,I come not to put your sincerity to any trial, nor to torture yourdelicacy; I dispense with all explanation, for I have not one doubt tosolve: I _know_ what has passed, I _know_ that my son loves you."
Not all her secret alarm, nor all the perturbation of her fears, hadtaught Cecilia to expect so direct an attack, nor enabled her to bearthe shock of it with any composure: she could not speak, she couldnot look at Mrs Delvile; she arose, and walked to the window, withoutknowing what she was doing.
Here, however, her distress was not likely to diminish; for the firstsight she saw was Fidel, who barked, and jumped up at the window to lickher hands.
"Good God! Fidel here!" exclaimed Mrs Delvile, amazed.
Cecilia, totally overpowered, covered her glowing face with both herhands, and sunk into a chair.
Mrs Delvile for a few minutes was silent; and then, following her, said,"Imagine not I am making any discovery, nor suspect me of any designto develop your sentiments. That Mortimer could love in vain I never,believed; that Miss Beverley, possessing so much merit, could be blindto it in another, I never thought possible. I mean not, therefore, tosolicit any account or explanation, but merely to beg your patiencewhile I talk to you myself, and your permission to speak to you withopenness and truth."
Cecilia, though relieved by this calmness from all apprehension ofreproach, found in her manner a coldness that convinced her of the lossof her affection, and in the introduction to her business a solemnitythat assured her what she should decree would be unalterable. Sheuncovered her face to shew her respectful attention, but she could notraise it up, and could not utter a word.
Mrs Delvile then seated herself next her, and gravely continued herdiscourse.
"Miss Beverley, however little acquainted with the state of our familyaffairs, can scarcely have been uninformed that a fortune such as hersseems almost all that family can desire; nor can she have failed toobserve, that her merit and accomplishments have no where been more feltand admired: the choice therefore of Mortimer she could not doubt wouldhave our sanction, and when she honoured his proposals with her favour,she might naturally conclude she gave happiness and pleasure to all hisfriends."
Cecilia, superior to accepting a palliation of which she felt herselfundeserving, now lifted up her head, and forcing herself to speak,said "No, madam, I will not deceive you, for I have never been deceivedmyself: I presumed not to expect your approbation,--though in missing itI have for ever lost my own!"
"Has Mortimer, then," cried she with eagerness, "been strictlyhonourable? has he neither beguiled nor betrayed you?"
"No, madam," said she, blushing, "I have nothing to reproach him with."
"Then he is indeed my son!" cried Mrs Delvile, with emotion; "had hebeen treacherous to you, while disobedient to us, I had indisputablyrenounced him."
Cecilia, who now seemed the only culprit, felt herself in a state ofhumiliation not to be borne; she collected, therefore, all her courage,and said, "I have cleared Mr Delvile; permit me, madam, now, to saysomething for myself."
"Certainly; you cannot oblige me more than by speaking withoutdisguise."
"It is not in the hope of regaining your good opinion,--that, I see, islost!--but merely--"
"No, not lost," said Mrs Delvile, "but if once it was yet higher, thefault was my own, in indulging an expectation of perfection to whichhuman nature is perhaps unequal."
Ah, then, thought Cecilia, all is over! the contempt I so much feared isincurred, and though it may be softened, it can never be removed!
"Speak, then, and with sincerity," she continued, "all you wish me tohear, and then grant me your attention in return to the purpose of mypresent journey."
"I have little, madam," answered the depressed Cecilia, "to say; youtell me you already know all that has past; I will not, therefore,pretend to take any merit from revealing it: I will only add, that myconsent to this transaction has made me miserable almost from the momentI gave it; that I meant and wished to retract as soon as reflectionpointed out to me my error, and that circumstances the most perverse,not blindness to propriety, nor stubbornness in wrong, led me to make,at last, that fatal attempt, of which the recollection, to my last hour,must fill me with regret and shame."
"I wonder not," said Mrs Delvile, "that in a situation where delicacywas so much less requisite than courage, Miss Beverley should feel
herself distressed and unhappy. A mind such as hers could never errwith impunity; and it is solely from a certainty of her innate sense ofright, that I venture to wait upon her now, and that I have any hopeto influence _her_ upon whose influence alone our whole family must infuture depend. Shall I now proceed, or is there any thing you wish tosay first?"
"No, madam, nothing."
"Hear me, then, I beg of you, with no predetermination to disregard me,but with an equitable resolution to attend to reason, and a candour thatleaves an opening to conviction. Not easy, indeed, is such a task, toa mind pre-occupied with an intention to be guided by the dictates ofinclination,---"
"You wrong me, indeed, madam!" interrupted Cecilia, greatly hurt, "mymind harbours no such intention, it has no desire but to be guided byduty, it is wretched with a consciousness of having failed in it! Ipine, I sicken to recover my own good opinion; I should then no longerfeel unworthy of yours; and whether or not I might be able to regain it,I should at least lose this cruel depression that now sinks me in yourpresence!"
"To regain it," said Mrs Delvile, "were to exercise but half your power,which at this moment enables you, if such is your wish, to make me thinkof you more highly than one human being ever thought of another. Do youcondescend to hold this worth your while?"
Cecilia started at the question; her heart beat quick with strugglingpassions; she saw the sacrifice which was to be required, and her pride,her affronted pride, arose high to anticipate the rejection; but thedesign was combated by her affections, which opposed the indignantrashness, and told her that one hasty speech might separate her fromDelvile for ever. When this painful conflict was over, of which MrsDelvile patiently waited the issue, she answered, with much hesitation,"To regain your good opinion, madam, greatly, truly as I value it,--iswhat I now scarcely dare hope."
"Say not so," cried she, "since, if you hope, you cannot miss it. Ipurpose to point out to you the means to recover it, and to tell youhow greatly I shall think myself your debtor if you refuse not to employthem."
She stopt; but Cecilia hung back; fearful of her own strength, she daredventure at no professions; yet, how either to support, or dispute hercompliance, she dreaded to think.
"I come to you, then," Mrs Delvile solemnly resumed, "in the name of MrDelvile, and in the name of our whole family; a family as ancient asit is honourable, as honourable as it is ancient. Consider me as itsrepresentative, and hear in me its common voice, common opinion, andcommon address.
"My son, the supporter of our house, the sole guardian of its name, andthe heir of our united fortunes, has selected you, we know, for the ladyof his choice, and so fondly has, fixed upon you his affections, thathe is ready to relinquish us all in preference to subduing them. Toyourself alone, then, can we apply, and I come to you--"
"O hold, madam, hold!" interrupted Cecilia, whose courage now revivedfrom resentment, "I know, what you would say; you come to tell me ofyour disdain; you come to reproach my presumption, and to kill me withyour contempt! There is little occasion for such a step; I am depressed,I am self-condemned already; spare me, therefore, this insupportablehumiliation, wound me not with your scorn, oppress me not with yoursuperiority! I aim at no competition, I attempt no vindication, Iacknowledge my own littleness as readily as you can despise it, andnothing but indignity could urge me to defend it!"
"Believe me," said Mrs Delvile, "I meant not to hurt or offend you, andI am sorry if I have appeared to you either arrogant or assuming. Thepeculiar and perilous situation of my family has perhaps betrayed meinto offensive expressions, and made me guilty myself of an ostentationwhich in others has often disgusted me. Ill, indeed, can we any of usbear the test of experiment, when tried upon those subjects which callforth our particular propensities. We may strive to be disinterested,we may struggle to be impartial, but self will still predominate, stillshew us the imperfection of our natures, and the narrowness of oursouls. Yet acquit me, I beg, of any intentional insolence, and imaginenot that in speaking highly of my own family, I, mean to depreciateyours: on the contrary, I know it to be respectable, I know, too, thatwere it the lowest in the kingdom, the first might envy it that it gavebirth to such a daughter."
Cecilia, somewhat soothed by this speech, begged her pardon for havinginterrupted her, and she proceeded.
"To your family, then, I assure you, whatever may be the pride of ourown, _you_ being its offspring, we would not object. With your merit weare all well acquainted, your character has our highest esteem, andyour fortune exceeds even our most sanguine desires. Strange at onceand afflicting! that not all these requisites for the satisfaction ofprudence, nor all these allurements for the gratification of happiness,can suffice to fulfil or to silence the claims of either! There are yetother demands to which we must attend, demands which ancestry and bloodcall upon us aloud to ratify! Such claimants are not to be neglectedwith impunity; they assert their rights with the authority ofprescription, they forbid us alike either to bend to inclination, orstoop to interest, and from generation to generation their injurieswill call out for redress, should their noble and long unsullied name bevoluntarily consigned to oblivion!"
Cecilia, extremely struck by these words, scarce wondered, since sostrong and so established were her opinions, that the obstacle to hermarriage, though but one, should be considered as insuperable.
"Not, therefore, to _your_ name are we averse," she continued, "butsimply to our own more partial. To sink that, indeed, in _any_other, were base and unworthy:--what, then, must be the shock of mydisappointment, should Mortimer Delvile, the darling of my hopes, thelast survivor of his house, in whose birth I rejoiced as the promise ofits support, in whose accomplishments I gloried, as the revival of itslustre,--should _he_, should, _my_ son be the first to abandon it! togive up the name he seemed born to make live, and to cause in effect itsutter annihilation!--Oh how should I know my son when an alien to hisfamily! how bear to think I had cherished in my bosom the betrayer ofits dearest interests, the destroyer of its very existence!"
Cecilia, scarce more afflicted than offended, now hastily answered, "Notfor me, madam, shall he commit this crime, not on _my_ account shall hebe reprobated by his family! Think of him, therefore, no more, with anyreference to me, for I would not be the cause of unworthiness or guiltin him to be mistress of the universe!"
"Nobly said!" cried Mrs Delvile, her eyes sparkling with joy, and hercheeks glowing with pleasure, "now again do I know Miss Beverley! nowagain see the refined, the excellent young woman, whose virtues taughtme to expect the renunciation even of her own happiness, when found tobe incompatible with her duty!"
Cecilia now trembled and turned pale; she scarce knew herself what shehad said, but, she found by Mrs Delvile's construction of her words,they had been regarded as her final relinquishing of her son. Sheardently wished to quit the room before she was called upon to confirmthe sentence, but, she had not courage to make the effort, nor to rise,speak, or move.
"I grieve, indeed," continued Mrs Delvile, whose coldness and austeritywere changed into mildness and compassion, "at the necessity I have beenunder to draw from you a concurrence so painful: but no other resourcewas in my power. My influence with Mortimer, whatever it may be, I havenot any right to try, without obtaining your previous consent, since Iregard him myself as bound to you in honour, and only to be released byyour own virtuous desire. I will leave you, however, for my presence,I see, is oppressive to you. Farewell; and when you _can_ forgive me, Ithink you _will_."
"I have nothing, madam," said Cecilia, coldly, "to forgive; you haveonly asserted your own dignity, and I have nobody to blame but myself,for having given you occasion."
"Alas," cried Mrs Delvile, "if worth and nobleness of soul on your part,if esteem and tenderest affection on mine, were all which that dignitywhich offends you requires, how should I crave the blessing of such adaughter! how rejoice in joining my son to excellence so like his own,and ensuring his happiness while I stimulated his virtue!"
"Do not talk to me of affe
ction, madam," said Cecilia, turning away fromher; "whatever you had for me is past,--even your esteem is gone,--youmay pity me, indeed, but your pity is mixed with contempt, and I am notso abject as to find comfort from exciting it."
"O little," cried Mrs Delvile, looking at her with the utmosttenderness, "little do you see the state of my heart, for never have youappeared to me so worthy as at this moment! In tearing you from my son,I partake all the wretchedness I give, but your own sense of duty mustsomething plead for the strictness with which I act up to mine."
She then moved towards the door.
"Is your carriage, madam," said Cecilia, struggling to disguise herinward anguish under an appearance of sullenness, "in waiting?"
Mrs Delvile then came back, and holding out her hand, while her eyesglistened with tears, said, "To part from you thus frigidly, whilemy heart so warmly admires you, is almost more than I can endure. Ohgentlest Cecilia! condemn not a mother who is impelled to this severity,who performing what she holds to be her duty, thinks the office herbitterest misfortune, who forsees in the rage of her husband, and theresistance of her son, all the misery of domestic contention, and whocan only secure the honour of her family by destroying its peace!--Youwill not, then, give me your hand?--"
Cecilia, who had affected not to see that she waited for it, nowcoldly put it out, distantly [courtseying], and seeking to preserveher steadiness by avoiding to speak. Mrs Delvile took it, and as sherepeated her adieu, affectionately pressed it to her lips; Cecilia,starting, and breathing short, from encreasing yet smothered agitation,called out "Why, why this condescension?--pray,--I entreat you,madam!--"
"Heaven bless you, my love!" said Mrs Delvile, dropping a tear upon thehand she still held, "heaven bless you, and restore the tranquillity youso nobly deserve!"
"Ah madam!" cried Cecilia, vainly striving to repress any longer thetears which now forced their way down her cheeks, "why will you breakmy heart with this kindness! why will you still compel me to love!--whennow I almost wish to hate you!"--
"No, hate me not," said Mrs Delvile, kissing from her cheeks the tearsthat watered them, "hate me not, sweetest Cecilia, though in woundingyour gentle bosom, I am almost detestable to myself. Even the cruelscene which awaits me with my son will not more deeply afflict me. Butadieu,--I must now prepare for him!"
She then left the room: but Cecilia, whose pride had no power to resistthis tenderness, ran hastily after her, saying "Shall I not see youagain, madam?"
"You shall yourself decide," answered she; "if my coming will not giveyou more pain than pleasure, I will wait upon you whenever you please."
Cecilia sighed and paused; she knew not what to desire, yet ratherwished any thing to be done, than quietly to sit down to uninterruptedreflection.
"Shall I postpone quitting this place," continued Mrs Delvile, "tillto-morrow morning, and will you admit me this afternoon, should I callupon you again?"
"I should be sorry," said she, still hesitating, "to detain you,"--
"You will rejoice me," cried Mrs Delvile, "by bearing me in your sight."
And she then went into her carriage.
Cecilia, unfitted to attend her old friend, and unequal to the task ofexplaining to her the cruel scene in which she had just been engaged,then hastened to her own apartment. Her hitherto stifled emotions brokeforth in tears and repinings: her fate was finally determined, and itsdetermination was not more unhappy than humiliating; she was openlyrejected by the family whose alliance she was known to wish; shewas compelled to refuse the man of her choice, though satisfied hisaffections were her own. A misery so peculiar she found hard to support,and almost bursting with conflicting passions, her heart alternatelyswelled from offended pride, and sunk from disappointed tenderness.