CHAPTER ix.
A TRIBUTE.
Mean while Cecilia went through very severe discipline, sometimesstrongly opposing it, at other times scarce sensible what was done toher.
The whole of the next day passed in much the same manner, neither didthe next night bring any visible alteration. She had now nurses andattendants even more than sufficient, for Delvile had no relief but fromcalling in more help. His terror of again seeing her encreased with hisforbearance; the interview which had already past had almost torn himasunder, and losing all courage for attempting to enter her room, he nowspent almost all his time upon the stairs which led to it. Whenever shewas still, he seated himself at her chamber door, where, if he couldhear her breathe or move, a sudden hope of her recovery gave to him amomentary extasy that recompensed all his sufferings. But the instantshe spoke, unable to bear the sound of so loved a voice uttering nothingbut the incoherent ravings of lightheadedness, he hastened down stairs,and flying out of the house, walked in the neighbouring streets, till hecould again gather courage to enquire or to listen how she went on.
The following morning, however, Dr Lyster came, and every hope revived.He flew to embrace him, told him instantly his marriage with Cecilia,and besought him by some superior effort of his extraordinary abilitiesto save him the distraction of her loss.
"My good friend," cried the worthy Doctor, "what is this you ask of me?and how can this poor young lady herself want advice more than you do?Do you think these able physicians actually upon the spot, with allthe experience of full practice in London to assist their skill, want apetty Doctor out of the country to come and teach them what is right?"
"I have more reliance upon you," cried Delvile, than upon the wholefaculty; come, therefore, and prescribe for her,--take some new course"--
"Impossible, my good Sir, impossible! I must not lose my wits fromvanity, because you have lost yours from affliction. I could not refuseto come to you when you wrote to me with such urgency, and I will now goand see the young lady, as a _friend_, with all my heart. I am sorry foryou at my soul, Mr Mortimer! She is a lovely young creature, and has anunderstanding, for her years and sex, unequalled."
"Never mention her to me!" cried the impatient Delvile, "I cannot bearit! Go up to her, dear Doctor, and if you want a consultation, send, ifyou please, for every physician in town."
Dr Lyster desired only that those who had already attended mightbe summoned; and then, giving up to his entreaties the accustomedceremonial of waiting for them, he went to Cecilia.
Delvile did not dare accompany him; and so well was he acquainted withhis plainness and sincerity, that though he expected his return witheagerness, he no sooner heard him upon the stairs, than fearing to knowhis opinion, he hastily snatched up his hat, and rushed vehemently outof the house to avoid him.
He continued to walk about the streets, till even the dread of illnews was less horrible to him than this voluntary suspense, and then hereturned to the house.
He found Dr Lyster in a small back parlour, which Mrs Wyers, finding sheshould now be well paid, had appropriated for Delvile's use.
Delvile, putting his hand upon the Doctor's shoulder, said, "Well, mydear Dr Lyster, _you_, still, I hope"--
"I would I could make you easy!" interrupted the Doctor; "yet, if youare rational, one comfort, at all events, I can give you; the crisisseems approaching, and either she will recover, or before to-morrowmorning"---
"Don't go on, Sir!" cried Delvile, with mingled rage and horror, "Iwill not have her days limited! I sent not for you to give me such anaccount!"
And again he flew out of the house, leaving Dr Lyster unaffectedlyconcerned for him, and too kind-hearted and too wise to be offended atthe injustice of immoderate sorrow.
In a few minutes, however, from the effect rather of despair thanphilosophy, Delvile grew more composed, and waited upon Dr Lyster toapologize for his behaviour. He received his hearty forgiveness, andprevailed upon him to continue in town till the whole was decided.
About noon, Cecilia, from the wildest rambling and most perpetualagitation, sunk suddenly into a state of such utter insensibility,that she appeared unconscious even of her existence; and but that shebreathed, she might already have passed for being dead.
When Delvile heard this, he could no longer endure even his post uponthe stairs; he spent his whole time in wandering about the streets, orstopping in Dr Lyster's parlour to enquire if all was over.
That humane physician, not more alarmed at the danger of Cecilia, thangrieved at the situation of Delvile, thought the present fearful crisisat least offered an opportunity of reconciling him with his father. Hewaited, therefore, upon that gentleman in St James's-square, and openlyinformed him of the dangerous state of Cecilia, and the misery of hisson.
Mr Delvile, though he would gladly, to have annulled an alliance he helddisgraceful to his family, have received intelligence that Cecilia wasno more, was yet extremely disconcerted to hear of sufferings to whichhis own refusal of an asylum he was conscious had largely contributed;and after a haughty struggle between tenderness and wrath, he begged theadvice of Dr Lyster how his son might be drawn from such a scene.
Dr Lyster, who well knew Delvile was too desperate to be tractable,proposed surprising him into an interview by their returning together:Mr Delvile, however apprehensive and relenting, conceded mostunwillingly to a measure he held beneath him, and, when he came to theshop, could scarce be persuaded to enter it. Mortimer, at that time,was taking a solitary ramble; and Dr Lyster, to complete the work hehad begun of subduing the hard pride of his father, contrived, underpretence of waiting for him, to conduct him to the room of the invalide.
Mr Delvile, who knew not whither he was going, at first sight of the bedand the attendants, was hastily retreating; but the changed and lividface of Cecilia caught his eye, and, struck with sudden consternation,he involuntarily stopt.
"Look at the poor young lady!" cried Dr Lyster; "can you wonder a sightsuch as this should make Mr Mortimer forget every thing else?"
She was wholly insensible, but perfectly quiet; she seemed todistinguish nothing, and neither spoke nor moved.
Mr Delvile regarded her with the utmost horror: the refuge he soimplacably refused her on the night when her intellects were disordered,he would now gladly have offered at the expence of almost similarsufferings, to have relieved himself from those rising pangs whichcalled him author of this scene of woe. His pride, his pomp, his ancientname, were now sunk in his estimation; and while he considered himselfthe destroyer of this unhappy young creature, he would have sacrificedthem all to have called himself her protector. Little is the boast ofinsolence when it is analysed by the conscience! bitter is the agonyof self-reproach, where misery follows hardness of heart! yet, when thefirst painful astonishment from her situation abated, the remorse sheexcited being far stronger than the pity, he gave an angry glance at DrLyster for betraying him into such a sight, and hastily left the room.
Delvile, who was now impatiently waiting to see Dr Lyster in the littleparlour, alarmed at the sound of a new step upon the stairs, came out toenquire who had been admitted. When he saw his father, he shrunk back;but Mr Delvile, no longer supported by pride, and unable to recover fromthe shock he had just received, caught him in his arms, and said "Ohcome home to me, my son! this is a place to destroy you!"
"Ah, Sir," cried Delvile, "think not of me now!--you must shew me nokindness; I am not in a state to bear it!" And, forcibly breaking fromhim, he hurried out of the house.
Mr Delvile, all the father awakened in his bosom, saw his departurewith more dread than anger; and returned himself to St James's-square,tortured with parental fears, and stung by personal remorse, lamentinghis own inflexibility, and pursued by the pale image of Cecilia.
She was still in this unconscious state, and apparently as free fromsuffering as from enjoyment, when a new voice was suddenly heardwithout, exclaiming, "Oh where is she? where is she? where is my dearMiss Beverley?" and Henrietta Belfield
ran wildly into the room.
The advertisement in the news-papers had at once brought her to town,and directed her to the house: the mention that the lost lady _talkedmuch of a person by the name of Delvile_, struck her instantly to meanCecilia; the description corresponded with this idea, and the account ofthe dress confirmed it: Mr Arnott, equally terrified with herself, hadtherefore lent her his chaise to learn the truth of this conjecture, andshe had travelled all night.
Flying up to the bedside, "Who is this?" she cried, "this is not MissBeverley?" and then screaming with unrestrained horror, "Oh mercy!mercy!" she called out, "yes, it is indeed! and nobody would knowher!--her own mother would not think her her child!"
"You must come away, Miss Belfield," said Mary, "you must indeed,--thedoctors all say my lady must not be disturbed."
"Who shall take me away?" cried she, angrily, "nobody Mary! not all thedoctors in the world! Oh sweet Miss Beverley! I will lie down by yourside,--I will never quit you while you live,--and I wish, I wish I coulddie to save your precious life!"
Then, leaning over her, and wringing her hands, "Oh I shall break myheart," she cried, "to see her in this condition! Is this the so happyMiss Beverley, that I thought every body born to give joy to? theMiss Beverley that seemed queen of the whole world! yet so good and sogentle, so kind to the meanest person! excusing every body's faults buther own, and telling them how they might mend, and trying to make themas good as herself!--Oh who would know her! who would know her! whathave they done to you, my beloved Miss Beverley? how have they alteredand disfigured you in this wicked and barbarous manner?"
In the midst of this simple yet pathetic testimony, to the worth andvarious excellencies of Cecilia, Dr Lyster came into the room. The womenall flocked around him, except Mary, to vindicate themselves from anyshare in permitting this new comer's entrance and behaviour; but Maryonly told him who she was, and said, that if her lady was well enough toknow her, there was nobody she was certain she would have been so gladto see.
"Young lady," said the doctor, "I would advise you to walk into anotherroom till you are a little more composed."
"Every body, I find, is for hurrying me away," cried the sobbingHenrietta, whose honest heart swelled with its own affectionateintegrity; "but they might all save themselves the trouble, for go Iwill not!"
"This is very wrong," said the doctor, "and must not be suffered: do youcall it friendship to come about a sick person in this manner?"
"Oh my Miss Beverley!" cried Henrietta, "do you hear how they allupbraid me? how they all want to force me away from you, and to hinderme even from looking at you! Speak for me, sweet lady! speak for meyourself! tell them the poor Henrietta will not do you any harm; tellthem she only wishes just to sit by you, and to see you!--I will hold bythis dear hand,--I will cling to it till the last minute; and you willnot, I know you will not, give orders to have it taken away from me!"
Dr Lyster, though his own good nature was much affected by this fondsorrow, now half angrily represented to her the impropriety of indulgingit: but Henrietta, unused to disguise or repress her feelings, grew onlythe more violent, the more she was convinced of Cecilia's danger: "Ohlook but at her," she exclaimed, "and take me from her if you can!see how her sweet eyes are fixed! look but what a change in hercomplexion!--She does not see me, she does not know me,--she does nothear me! her hand seems quite lifeless already, her face is all fallenaway!--Oh that I had died twenty deaths before I had lived to see thissight!--poor wretched Henrietta, thou bast now no friend left in theworld! thou mayst go and lie down in some corner, and no one will comeand say to thee a word of comfort!"
"This must not be!" said Dr Lyster, "you must take her away."
"You shall not!" cried she, desperately, "I will stay with her till shehas breathed her last, and I will stay with her still longer! and if shewas to speak to you this moment, she would tell you that she chose it.She loved the poor Henrietta, and loved to have her near her; and whenshe was ill, and in much distress, she never once bid me leave her room.Is it not true, my sweet Miss Beverley? do you not know it to be true?Oh look not so dreadfully! turn to your unhappy Henrietta; sweetest,best of ladies! will you not speak to her once more? will you not say toher one single word?"
Dr Lyster now grew very angry, and telling her such violence might havefatal consequences, frightened her into more order, and drew her awayhimself. He had then the kindness to go with her into another room,where, when her first vehemence was spent, his remonstrances andreasoning brought her to a sense of the danger she might occasion, andmade her promise not to return to the room till she had gained strengthto behave better.
When Dr Lyster went again to Delvile, he found him greatly alarmedby his long stay; he communicated to him briefly what had passed, andcounselled him to avoid encreasing his own grief by the sight ofwhat was suffered by this unguarded and ardent girl. Delvile readilyassented, for the weight of his own woe was too heavy to bear anyaddition.
Henrietta now, kept in order by Dr Lyster, contented herself with onlysitting on the bed, without attempting to speak, and with no otheremployment than alternately looking at her sick friend, and coveringher streaming eyes with her handkerchief; from time to time quitting theroom wholly, for the relief of sobbing at liberty and aloud in another.
But, in the evening, while Delvile and Dr Lyster were taking one oftheir melancholy rambles, a new scene was acted in the apartment ofthe still senseless Cecilia. Albany suddenly made his entrance into it,accompanied by three children, two girls and one boy, from the ages offour to six, neatly dressed, clean, and healthy.
"See here!"' cried he, as he came in, "see here what I've broughtyou! raise, raise your languid head, and look this way! you think merigid,--an enemy to pleasure, austere, harsh, and a forbidder of joy:look at this sight, and see the contrary! who shall bring you comfort,joy, pleasure, like this? three innocent children, clothed and fed byyour bounty!"
Henrietta and Mary, who both knew him well, were but little surprised atanything he said or did, and the nurses presumed not to interfere but bywhispers.
Cecilia, however, observed nothing that passed; and Albany, somewhatastonished, approached nearer to the bed; "Wilt thou not speak?" hecried.
"She can't, Sir," said one of the women; "she has been speechless manyhours."
The air of triumph with which he had entered the room was now changedinto disappointment and consternation. For some minutes he thoughtfullyand sorrowfully contemplated her, and then, with a deep sigh, said, "Howwill the poor rue this day!" Then, turning to the children, who, awed bythis scene, were quiet from terror. "Alas!" he said, "ye helpless babes,ye know not what you have lost: presumptuously we came; unheeded we mustreturn! I brought you to be seen by your benefactress, but she is goingwhere she will find many such."
He then led them away; but, suddenly coming back, "I may see her,perhaps, no more! shall I not, then, pray for her? Great and aweful isthe change she is making; what are human revolutions, how pitiful, howinsignificant, compared with it!--Come, little babies, come; with giftshas she often blessed _you_, with wishes bless _her_! Come, let us kneelround her bed; let us all pray for her together; lift up your innocenthands, and for all of you I will speak."
He then made the children obey his injunctions, and having knelthimself, while Henrietta and Mary instantly did the same, "Sweetflower!" he cried, "untimely cropt in years, yet in excellence mature!early decayed in misery, yet fragrant in innocence! Gentle be thy exit,for unsullied have been thy days; brief be thy pains, for few have beenthy offences! Look at her sweet babes, and bear her in your remembrance;often will I visit you and revive the solemn scene. Look at her ye,also, who are nearer to your end--Ah! will you bear it like her!"
He paused; and the nurses and Mrs Wyers, struck by this call, and movedby the general example, crept to the bed, and dropt on their knees,almost involuntarily.
"She departs," resumed Albany, "the envy of the world! while yet noguilt had seized her soul, and no remorse had marred her pe
ace. She wasthe hand-maid of charity, and pity dwelt in her bosom! her mouthwas never open but to give comfort; her foot-steps were followed byblessings! Oh happy in purity, be thine the song of triumph!--softlyshalt thou sink to temporary sleep,--sublimely shalt thou rise to lifethat wakes for ever!"
He then got up, took the children by their little hands, and went away.