LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OP 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN 01 EGO
 
 BO EN'S NOVELISTS LIBRARY, 
 CECILIA.
 
 CECILIA 
 
 OR 
 MEMOIRS OF AN HEIRESS 
 
 BY FRANCES BURNEY 
 
 WITH A PREFACE AND NOTES 
 
 BY ANNIE RAINE ELLIS 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' SYLVESTRA,' ' MARIE,' AND ' MARIETTB ' 
 
 VOL. I 
 
 LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS 
 
 YORK STREET, COVENT GAEDEN 
 
 1890
 
 CHISWICK PKtSS : C. WHITTIXGHAM AND CO.. TOOKS COURT 
 CHAXCKRY LANK.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. A Journey ......... 1 
 
 II. An Argument ........& 
 
 III. An Arrival 16 
 
 IV. A Sketch of High Life 24 
 
 V. An Assembly . ...... 32 
 
 VI. A Breakfast 42" 
 
 VII. A Project 48 
 
 VIII. An Opera Rehearsal 56- 
 
 IX. A Supplication ........ 68- 
 
 X. A Provocation 76 
 
 XI. A Narration . . . . . . . . .81 
 
 BOOK U. 
 
 I. A Man of Wealth 89> 
 
 II. A Man of Family 9* 
 
 III. A Masquerade 99 
 
 IV. An Affray 124 
 
 V. A Fashionable Friend . . . . . . .137 
 
 VI. A Family Party 146 
 
 VII. An Examination ........ -155 
 
 VIII. A Tete a Tele 162 
 
 IX. An Application ........ 166 
 
 X. A Perplexity 175- 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 I. An Admonition 
 II. An Evasion . 
 III. An Adventure 
 IV. A Man of Genius 
 V. An Expedient 
 VI. A Remonstrance 
 VII. A Victory . 
 VIII. A Complaint . 
 IX. A Sympathy . 
 
 182 
 19-2 
 197 
 206 
 219 
 223 
 2-29 
 238 
 242 
 
 X. A Conflict 246 
 
 XI. An Expectation 251 
 
 I. A 2
 
 IV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I.- 
 
 II.- 
 
 III.- 
 
 IV.- 
 
 V.- 
 
 VI.- 
 
 VII.- 
 
 VIII.- 
 
 IX.- 
 
 X.- 
 
 XI.- 
 
 XII.- 
 
 -An Agitation 
 
 -A Man of the Ton . 
 
 -A Reproof . 
 
 A Mistake . . 
 
 An Explanation 
 
 -A Murmuring 
 
 -A Rmt 
 
 -A Broad Hint 
 
 -An Accommodation 
 
 -A Detection . 
 
 A Sarcasm . 
 
 -A Surmise 
 
 PAGE 
 256 
 
 266 
 287 
 294 
 
 298 
 
 305 
 
 312 
 329 
 334 
 339 
 344 
 350 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 I. A Bold Stroke 
 II. A Miser's Mansion 
 III. A Declaration 
 IV. A Gamester's Conscience 
 V. A Persecution 
 VI. A Man of Business 
 VII. A Solution . 
 VIII. A Debate . 
 IX. A Railing . 
 
 354 
 362 
 365 
 370 
 377 
 388 
 413 
 428 
 440
 
 A PREFACE. 
 
 " T T was not ' hard fagging ' that produced such a work 
 -L as ' Evelina ' ! It was the ebullition of true, sterling 
 genius. You wrote it because you could not help it it came, 
 and you put it doivn on paper." 
 
 These words of Mr. Crisp, the fatherlike friend of Miss 
 Burney, bear true witness to the joyous and spontaneous 
 impulse which produced ' Evelina.' That novel has a 
 girlish, artless story. The only contrivance in it, that of 
 a letter going astray, is almost clumsy ; and the incidents 
 of a deserted wife, a disowned marriage, and a change of 
 babies by a nurse, must have been nearly as well-worn in 
 1778, as a fever, a raving scene, and an absence in tiie 
 West Indies on the part of a husband, or a father, when he 
 was most needed at home, were to become in the fifty years 
 following. 
 
 ' Evelina ' has an affecting situation, which stands in stead 
 of a good plot. ' Cecilia ' has both an elaborate plot, and a 
 striking situation. 
 
 The stage-word, situation, is not inapt for use towards a 
 book composed so much after the manner of the theatre 
 that Mrs. Siddons told Miss Burney there was no part 
 which she had ever so much wished to act as that of 
 ' Cecilia.' 
 
 It is probable that reading and seeing plays had much 
 more influence upon Miss Burney's method of construction 
 than reading novels. We are not sure that she had read 
 those of Richardson all through ; and we know that she 
 only picked her way among pages of Fielding. Playbooks 
 were then much more numerous than novels ; and, for the 
 most part, much more interesting and diverting. Those 
 who have inherited libraries formed in the last century, 
 know how large a share in them is held by the dramatists. 
 A hundred years ago, the new plays were as our new 
 novels ; and more than they are.
 
 VI A PREFACE. 
 
 ' Evelina ' contains characters so lively, and scenes so 
 diverting, that both Sheridan and Murphy thought Miss 
 Bnrney sure to succeed in a comedy. She wrote one, but 
 her father and Mr. Crisp withheld it from the stage. 
 From it, she took the name of her next heroine, " Cecilia," 
 and the incident of a loss of fortune. 
 
 It ha s been said that in Art, the time best employed is 
 that which is lost. The four years and a half between 
 the bringing out of 'Evelina ' and that of ' Cecilia ' were 
 spent by Miss Burney " at school, the great school of the 
 world, where swarms of new ideas and characters con- 
 tinually presented themselves before her." ] The " blue 
 parties," the " ton parties," the " company at Bath, Bright- 
 helmstone, and Tunbridge- Wells ;" the "good talk " 2 in 
 the library at Streatham ; all ministered to the enlarging 
 and ripening of her faculties. 
 
 ' Cecilia ' is plainly the work of mature power, used to 
 maintain and increase a reputation already so high that a 
 weight is on the writer to be worthy of it. ' Evelina ' 
 stole into print, and if no one had praised it, little would 
 have been suffered, but " a thousand million of fears for her 
 book " troubled Frances Burney when she thought of the 
 hundreds waiting for the publication of ' Cecilia.' 
 
 ' Cecilia ' was written partly in the house of Mr. Crisp, 
 at Chesington, 3 partly in that of Dr. Burney in St. Martin's 
 Street, but always as if in the presence of Dr. Johnson. 
 Though he never saw the manuscript, he prevails through- 
 out the book. Not merely his balance of words, and of the 
 clauses of sentences, but his way of balancing thoughts, is 
 
 1 Mr. Crisp. 
 
 2 " Sir, we had good talk " Dr. Johnson to Bosu-ell. 
 
 3 The picturesque manor-house of Chesington is. we are told, de- 
 stroyed ; some notice of it may be found in the ' Life of Dr. Burney.' 
 Dr. Burney lived in what his daughter called " the vulgarly-peopled 
 St. Martin's Street." " Xext door" (writes J. T. Smith, author of 
 'No'lekens and his Times ')" to Orange Street Chapel, where I have 
 frequently heard Mr. Toplady preach ; and in the very house now 
 standing, No. 36, in which Sir Isaac Newton lived, whose observatory 
 still remains above the attics." This was written in 1829. We are 
 told that two rooms, at least, of this house, namely, the study and the 
 library of Sir Isaac Newton, are now parts of Bertolini's Hotel, at the 
 eorner of Orange Street.
 
 A PREFACE. Vll 
 
 often imitated. Characters from the Rambler sometimes 
 seem to be put in action, and there is an even too obvious 
 desire to be of moral use. 
 
 The novel of ' Cecilia ' has far more expanse than that 
 of ' Evelina.' It presents, not unworthily, some scenes of 
 the great Comedie Humaine. Her fertility of invention 
 drew Miss Buraey into a redundance, which may be blamed, 
 of characters, incidents, and " situations ; " yet we know 
 that the original manuscript was compressed in the copying. 
 
 The pivot on which the story turns is the clause in her 
 uncle's will, by which the future husband of Cecilia must 
 take her name, or forfeit her fortune. When the book 
 came out, there was hot debate as to whether, or not, this 
 change from a noble, to a respectable, name, was enough to 
 provoke such proud resistance. One Bishop, at least, grew 
 warm while discussing this point, though Deans might 
 have felt more concern in it, since the uncle of ' Cecilia ' 
 was a Dean. 1 Miss Burn ey was proud to hear that a noble- 
 man, who had given proof of the goodness of his heart by 
 weeping over the troubles of Delvile and Cecilia, had de- 
 clared that the change of an old name for a great fortune 
 was a thing not to be done. She turned this opinion into 
 a weapon of argument against her father and Mr. Crisp, 
 who had thought it unlikely that any one would prefer a 
 family-name to three thousand a year. As Lord de Ferrars 
 was not merely an expert, but shared with Mr. Delvile the 
 noble name of Compton, we may leave this nodus of the 
 drama as he left it. 
 
 It is probable that some instance of this kind of restraint 
 of marriage was fresh in the mind of Miss Burney when 
 she wrote ' Cecilia.' She wished to express her dislike of 
 what, with an unconscious Hellenism, she called " these 
 name-compelling wills." 
 
 1 When 'Alton Locke' was published, there was a humorous debate 
 between the Deans of Ely (Peacock), and of Peterborough (Butler), as 
 to which of them was the Dean in that novel. This was in spite of 
 
 .Kingsley's having made special provision against his fen-town of D 
 
 being taken for Lincoln, Ely, or Peterborough. Cecilia's uncle must 
 have been Dean of Norwich, or of Ely ; if we are to take things in so 
 prosaic a manner as to insist upon the places and people in works o<" 
 fancy having: more than a nominal existence.
 
 Viii A PREFACE. 
 
 She has told us, in telling Mr. Crisp, that " the conflict- 
 scene between mother and son " was the point in her book 
 to which all previous lines tended, the chapter for which all 
 the rest were written. She defends it against her kind 
 critic. If it must be expunged, she would rather there 
 were no book at all. 
 
 This scene is an ambitious effort. A hundred years ago 
 it was harrowing, now it is teasing. It will shatter no 
 nerves now, nor mar the night's rest of even the most 
 tender of readers. There could not have been more ado, 
 nor finer phrases used, if it had been an eighteenth century 
 recital of the great struggle of feeling and honour in the 
 hearts of Donna Ximena and the Cid. Mrs. Delvile 
 flings fine words about at random. " Rectitude," " duty," 
 "honour," "fame," " wronged ancestors," "shame and 
 reproach," "insulted dignity," are all employed about the 
 mere change of name from Delvile to Beverley. Her son 
 is menaced with " the censure of mankind, the renunciation 
 of his family, and the curses of his father." If Miss 
 Burney meant to draw a violent, unreasonable woman, 
 with a confused mind, she succeeded. She herself seems 
 to have had confused notions concerning the right of parents 
 to control, or forbid, the marriages of their children. 
 
 Richardson, before her, had magnified the rights of 
 parents to an outrageous excess. " There wanders over the 
 world," wrote Dr. Johnson, " a wild notion, which extends 
 < > marriage mpre than over any other transaction. The 
 parent's moral right can arise only from his kindness, and 
 his civil right only from his money." 
 
 Cecilia ow r nothing but courtesy to ?/f rs. Delvile ; no- 
 thing but a t . more months of deferent > to her guardian, 
 Mr. Delvile. She is not only treated lil .3 a culprit by both 
 of them, but she feels and admits herseii' to be a criminal, 
 because she has disobeyed parents who are not her own. 
 Fifteen years later, Miss Austen, in that delightful book, the 
 name of which is taken from some words in ' Cecilia,' l 
 described an interview between a sensible and spirited 
 heroine, Elizabeth Bennet, and an angry woman, bent on 
 
 " The whole of this unfortunate b ~ss," said Dr. Ljster, " has 
 been the result of PRIDE and PKEJUD ,
 
 A PREFACE. IX 
 
 breaking off her nephew's supposed engagement with 
 Elizabeth. Lady Catherine de Burgh is more openly inso- 
 lent than Mrs. Delvile, and without her direct claim to 
 authority, but there are so many analogies between the 
 scene in ' Pride and Prejudice,' and that in ' Cecilia,' 
 that as we read one, we think of the other. 1 Miss Austen, 
 whose first manner it was to make gay mockery of what 
 she saw to be high-flown in other writers, set herself, we 
 think with intention, to show how a Mrs. Delvile, or a 
 Lady Catherine, would have wheedled, or scolded, to no 
 purpose ; got into her carriage, and gone away in a rage ; 
 forwarding, instead of hindering, the happy marriage, which 
 it is the aim of three, as it used to be of five, volumes to 
 delay. Miss Burney wrote from herself. Cecilia, like 
 Miss Burney, is sensitive. She shrinks from the blame of 
 others. She fears the reproaches of her own tender con- 
 science. Her self-respect, and the esteem of the esteemed, 
 make up what is called her " dignity." We are told too 
 much of her " dignity." Very subordinate ,to that is any 
 sense on the part of Miss Burney of what is due to Delvile. 
 Dr. Johnson said of his own wife, " she had read the old 
 romances, and thought a woman of spirit should use her 
 lover like a dog ! " There is some faint reflection of this 
 old manner of treatment in the contrast between the highly 
 wrought feelings of Delvile, and the slight regard paid to 
 them by his mother and Cecilia. 
 
 It is often the case that characters of which the author 
 thinks he has firm hold, are made less life-like to the reader 
 than others of which the author feels he has a slighter 
 grasp* What is palpable to himself must be palpable to all. 
 Thus smaller pains are taken, and the reader sees only a 
 flat outline, or colour without form. 
 
 1 " During this preparatory period her mind seems to have been work- 
 ing in a very different direction from that into which it ultimately settled. 
 Instead of presenting faithful copies of Nature, her tales were generally 
 burlesques, ridiculing the improbable events and exaggerated sentiments 
 which she had met with in sundry silly romances. Something of this 
 fancy is to be found in ' Northanger Abbey,' but she soon left it far be- 
 hind in her subsequent cour.-e. It would seem ns if she were first taking 
 note of all the faults to be avoided, and curiously considering how she 
 ought not to write before she attempted to put forth her strength in the 
 right direction." A Memoir of Jane Austen, by the Rev. J. A. Liigh. 
 
 b
 
 X A PREFACE- 
 
 To Miss Burner, Mr. Delvile was a man she hated ; Mrs. 
 Delvile a -woman whom she loved and excused. 
 
 Some traits of the Delvile pride may have been gleaned 
 from the character of Fulke Grreville, an exacting patron of 
 Dr. Burney, and grandfather of that Grreville who has left 
 us a diary, written as if to show how much the standard of 
 English gentlemen has been lowered since Fulke Grreville 
 and Philip Sidney were boys together at Shrewsbury School. 
 
 We are often told that Mrs. Delvile is noble, dignified, 
 and elegant, 1 in feeling and manner. Mrs. Thrale, looking 
 up from the pages of ' Cecilia ' to the portrait of her own 
 mother, a Cotton of Combermere, who had wrangled much 
 with Dr. Johnson, saw a strong likeness between her 
 mother's character and that of Mrs. Delvile. Therefore, to 
 Mrs. Thrale, Mrs. Delvile was not so vapourous and ill- 
 defined as she may seem to many. 
 
 We began this preface under the impression that Miss 
 Burney was too timid by nature, and too " cautious by 
 habit," 2 to copy characters from life. It was true that we 
 had found her making use of some traits of Dr. Johnson's 
 abstraction when engrossed by a book, to give colour to 
 the character of a pedant, in ' Camilla.' She had most 
 likely been told of those traits by Mrs. Thrale, as they are 
 among the 'Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson,' in the " Bozzy 
 and Piozzi " book. It was true that Thomas Lowndes. 
 who published ' Evelina,' was supposed to have been drawn 
 as Briggs, but this seemed unlikely, as Miss Burney 
 never saw him but once, when she went incognita to 
 his shop to hear what he had to say 011 ' Evelina.' It 
 appeared more probable that when she described the versa- 
 tile and impulsive Belfield, she had in her mind the 
 poetaster, Percival Stockdale, who fills thirteen pages 
 of small print in Nichols' 'Literary Anecdotes of the 
 
 1 Dr. Johnson thus explains " ELEGANCY, the beauty of propriety, not 
 of greatness." " ELEGANT, 1. Pleasing by miuuter beauties. 2. Nice, 
 not coarse, or gross." We think that Miss Burney uses the word 
 " elegant," to express refinement, especially of manner. In her Diary, 
 she writes that " the King and Queen addressed Mr. Delany even with 
 elegance." " Spirit," which is ascribed to young Delvile, seems to be 
 used for animation. He is contrasted with the languid youths of 
 fashion. 
 
 2 Mrs. Thrale wrote thus of Dr. Burney.
 
 A PREFACE. XI 
 
 Eighteenth Century,' but has no place in man's memory. 
 Belfield is endowed with " spirit," and with " genius " his 
 many changes of the way in which he earns, or does not 
 earn, his bread, do not lower him in the opinion of the 
 generous Cecilia, or of the warm-hearted Delvile, who 
 divide between them nearly all the virtue in this novel 
 which is united with perfect sanity of mind. She may be 
 said to have ennobled the character and conduct of the 
 " Stocky " of Dr. Johnson, so that even his egregious 
 vanity could not well be wor.nded. But on opening, with- 
 out a thought of her, that most diverting book, Smith's 
 ' Nollekens and his Times,' it was forced on us that she 
 meant to draw, or, as "little Nolly" would himself have 
 s-iid, " to sculpt" Nollekens as Briggs. Trait for trait he 
 is here with his good-humour, his simplicity, his utter 
 want of respect for persons of rank, with his open mean- 
 ness, the candour of his stinginess, and his elaborate and 
 minute plans to save and amass money. It was a daring 
 deed Did Dr. Burney connive at it ? Was Dr. Johnson 
 mischievous enough to suggest it ? Both knew " Nolly " 
 well. His wife's father was one of Dr. Johnson's best 
 friends, and Mrs. Nollekens a greater miser than even her 
 husband is said to have been Pekuah in ' Rasselas.' 
 
 Briggs is no caricature of Nollekens, but to take a miser, 
 barely English, the son of an Antwerp miser, and make him 
 out to be a "warm man" in the City of London, was 
 enough to make readers in 1782 consider Briggs a cari- 
 cature, and to leave in the mind of a reader in 1882 a 
 strong sense of unfitness, which is explained if we believe 
 Briggs to have been lifted out of one set of circumstaces, 
 and pushed into another set, to suit the plan of this novel. 
 
 There was a time in her life when Miss Burney seems to 
 have put some trust in the elegant addresses of a sentimental 
 widower, a grandson of Sir Stephen Fox, and a brother of 
 that Dean of Durham l who had been of Selwyn's breakfast 
 parties to see unhappy men hanged by the neck until they 
 were dead. 
 
 Colonel Digby, 2 with that delicate desire to be trusted 
 
 1 This was before his promotion. George Selwyn called him his 
 (Newgate) " Ordinary." 
 
 2 See note 1, p. 169, vol. ii. We think that we have found, in Madame
 
 Ill A PREFACE. 
 
 which often marks the untrustworthy, censured Cecilia's 
 want of confidence in her lover, and her abrupt withdrawal 
 from him after the interruption of their marriage. Miss 
 Burney assured him that she herself would have acted as 
 she had made Cecilia act. Many a timid maiden might 
 agree with her, yet there is something harsh in the conduct 
 of Cecilia. It may also be doubted whether any clergyman 
 would have heeded the unsupported objection of an unknown 
 woman who escaped as she spoke. 
 
 Mr. Windham hinted blame of the redundance of trials 
 and troubles which afflict the hero and heroine, after readers 
 have become thoroughly interested in their fate. Burke 
 told Miss Burney that he wished the end to have been 
 " either more happy, or more miserable ; for that in a work 
 of imagination there was no medium." l 
 
 Every one, we think, must feel that the aftermath 
 of misery in the last book of ' Cecilia,' might as well 
 have been spared the tender and " elegant " readers of 
 1782, from Mrs. Chapone, whose nerves were shattered 
 even to the loss of sleep for a week, to the Duchess of 
 Portland and Mrs. Delany, who thrice wept their way 
 through the five volumes. The readers of 1882, are a less 
 simple folk, and need no shelter for their nerves. Those 
 who are critics may observe that these very last troubles 
 were probably made to crop up that Miss Bnrney might 
 describe the language and actions of a delirious person. 
 She repeated this ambitious effort towards the end of her 
 third novel, ' Camilla.' 
 
 Burke did not like what Miss Burney calls " Mprrice's 
 part in the Pantheon." Most likely he thought that the 
 upsetting of a commonplace tea-pot by an impertinent 
 
 D'Arblay's ' Camilla,' one shaft aimed at this Colonel Digby. " If you 
 would avoid deceit and treachery, look at a man as at a picture, which 
 tells you only the present moment .' Rely upon nothing of time to come ! 
 They are not like us, and they think themselves free, if they have made 
 no verbal profession ; though they may have pledged themselves by 
 looks, by actions, by attentions, a thousand and a thousand times ! " 
 
 ' " I was not easy enough to answer him, or I have much, though 
 perhaps not good for much, to say in defence of following life and nature 
 as much in the conclusion as in the progress of a tale ; and when is life 
 and nature completely happy or miserable ?" Diary of M"**- IfArblay, 
 p. 195, vol. ii.
 
 A PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 meddler, too mean a way of surprising a hero of any 
 magnitude into a burst of tender concern for a heroine of 
 any dignity. Dr. Moore thought well enough of this inci- 
 dent to repeat it, with some slight changes, in his forgotten 
 novel, ' Edward.' 
 
 It may be doubted if sayings or doings such as those of 
 Morrice and Mrs. Belfield should be so closely copied from 
 Nature as to stir in us the same feelings of irritation which 
 they would excite in real life. To tease, or worry, is a poor 
 aim of fiction. More or less unconsciously, Miss Burney 
 hr.s made much of this book an expression of her own very 
 strong feeling of the hindrance of gentle and pleasant ways 
 of life by the impertinent, the tiresome, the meddling, and 
 the perverse. 
 
 The gambling of that time could hardly be exaggerated. 
 It was the ton to play at Commerce with a thousand guineas 
 in the pool. This was mere play in drawing-rooms, and 
 nothing to the serious play which was carried on at Brooks's. 
 There was many a tragedy like that of Harrel. Surely all 
 that leads up to his end, and the chapter which completes 
 it, are the finest parts of this book. In the self-importance 
 of Mr. Hobson, and the servility of Mr. Simkins, amid the 
 awful merriment in the box at Vauxhall, there is something 
 not unlike the great dramatists of the sixteenth century. 
 
 It is true that if the construction of the plot were very 
 closely examined, many improbable details might be found ; 
 but it is a serviceable plot for bringing in fine things. 1 A 
 critical reader cannot but discern, and admire, the skill 
 with which the author has chosen and marshalled her 
 characters, the wide and complex framework in which she 
 has arranged them, her spirit, vivacity, and readiness of 
 resource. What is wanting in her characters has been so 
 well shown by Macaulay, 2 that it need not be dwelt on here. 
 
 1 " BATES. What is the plot good for, but to bring in fine things ? " 
 The Rehearsal, Act Hi. Scene 1. 
 
 2 Macaulay threw his warm heart into his ' Essay ' on Madame 
 D'Arblay. It has some oversights, but they are almost too trifling to 
 be named. It is marvellous that his rapid eye did not mis-read, or miss, 
 more on her printed pages than was the case. One very minute state- 
 ment we must correct: Macaulay says that Miss Burney never got the 
 gown which Mrs. Schwellenberg offered her (on the part of the Queen), 
 in a manner totally devoid of " softness and elegance." Miss Burney
 
 XIV A PREFACE. 
 
 To ns, her contrivances for throwing odd people together 
 are too obvious, and too often repeated. We soon learn to 
 expect them. We know that if Cecilia visits Miss Belfield, 
 one or other Mr. Delvile is sure to surprise her ; when 
 Morrice skips on the stage, it is to disturb the actors, or 
 derange the scenery ; if Miss Larolles is flighty, or Mrs. 
 Harrel heedless, or Sir Robert insolent, the voice of Albany 
 is sure to come from a corner. In real life no Cecilia would 
 a second time have heard Mrs. Belfield recommend her 
 son ; Morrice would have found most doors shut in his f acej; 
 and Albany, none open to him. 
 
 Though Mr. Briggs is caricatured, we have seen tears of 
 laughter shed over Mr. Briggs ; we have also heard a person 
 whom the gods had not made humorous, say that Mr. 
 Hobson was " not a half bad sort of man." Hobson, 
 Simkins, and Mrs. Belfield are excellently drawn. 
 
 The " ton parties " gave so much pleasure to Mrs. Thrale 
 that we may trust them as faithful transcripts of the affec- 
 tations of 1779. Those who are curious concerning the 
 antiquities of slang may learn that the " maccaronies " of 
 1779, who were soon to be followed by the "jolly young 
 bucks " of 1796, called the dull, and the wise alike, 
 "quizzes," or " quozzes," "bores," "frumps," and " f ogra- 
 mites," that morality was with them " fogrum stuff," and 
 that they " smoked " people before " roasting " them. 
 When an old lady could be described as a " limping old 
 puddle," and coarse, unfeeling mockery be made, almost 
 within their sight and hearing, of the decrepit, or deformed, 
 we know how much need there was of formal manners to 
 protect the weak and aged from the grossness still prevail- 
 ing. Lady Honoria is not merely flippant, but coarse, both 
 in thought and speech. The tales which she tells her aunt 
 of her aunt's own son, before Cecilia, would, at least, have 
 been kept to herself by any girl born after 1800, for fear of 
 the disgust she would excite, and the reproofs she would 
 incur. In her Diary, Miss Burney compares the wife of Sir 
 Borlase Warren with Lady Honoria, not as to coarseness, 
 but as to thoughtlessness. Lady Honoria is a " Battle " of 
 
 did get what she calls her " memorable present gown " (a lilac tabby), 
 and wore it on the twenty-first birthday of the Princess Royal, the 29th 
 of September, 1786.
 
 A PREFACE. XV 
 
 rank. Another " Rattle," Miss Larolles, cries " Lord," as 
 freely as a French peasant would say " Dame," (our Lady,) 
 and with about as little meaning. 
 
 In ' Pride and Prejudice,' such ejaculations have gone 
 down to Lydia Bennet ; in ' Sense and Sensibility,' to the 
 vulgar Mrs. Jennings ; still, this careless use of sacred 
 words lasted long in what was called " the best company." 
 Miss Martineau tells us that Miss Berry swore. Miss 
 Martineau was so deaf, that we think she mistook Miss 
 Berry's foreign " my God," (mon Dieu,) for an oath worthy 
 of Queen Bess. 
 
 The languid dandies, whom Miss Burney calls the "fades 
 maecaronies," still exist, under newer names, and still take 
 the trouble to be weary of everything. Many little details 
 of the dress and demeanour of 1779 may be gleaned from 
 this book, after we have gathered in the mass that may be 
 learned as to what manner of story stirred our forefathers 
 to merriment, or to sadness ; what kind of conduct they 
 blamed, or admired, when at their best. 
 
 Among the legends which cluster round the name of 
 Frances Burney, there is one, often repeated in print, that 
 she received two thousand pounds, or guineas, for the copy- 
 right of ' Cecilia.' We should be little surprised to learn 
 that she received less than one thensand. The price paid 
 for the copyright was no secret at the time ; Burke blamed 
 her for parting with it for too small a sum. Hence seems 
 to have arisen his desire to see her books published by sub- 
 scription, which was afterwards done, in the case of ' Ca- 
 milla.' When her fame was little impaired by the falling 
 off manifest in ' Camilla,' when many readers were looking 
 with impatience for a novel which might bring before them 
 revolutionary and imperial France, she did not ask more 
 than eleven hundred guineas for the copyright of ' The 
 Wanderer.' This seems very much against the two thou- 
 sand guineas legend in the case of ' Cecilia.' l 
 
 1 Mr. Crisp writes of Dr. Barney's intention to add something to the 
 sum which his daughter had received for ' Cecilia' in order " to make 
 it even money." Burke said to her, speaking of ' Cecilia,' " But I have 
 one other fault to find, and a far more material one than any I have 
 mentioned ; the disposal of this book I have much advice to offer you 
 upon that subject. Why did you not send for your own friend out of
 
 KYI A PREFACE. 
 
 The correspondence between Mr. Crisp and Miss Barney 
 while she was at work on ' Cecilia ' is given in the second 
 volume of her ' Diary.' She sometimes changed things 
 to please him, and sometimes resisted his advice. Dr. 
 Burney had his say besides. Mrs. and Miss Thrale were 
 permitted to laugh, or to cry, over the manuscript, but the 
 only word said of Dr. Johnson's part in it, is the record of 
 his flat denial that he ever saw the book until it was 
 printed. He was probably not consulted lest the whole 
 credit should be given to him. 
 
 Macaulay thought that he could trace the corrections 
 nay, more than the corrections of Johnson throughout 
 ' Cecilia.' Of one passage which, he gives us, at least, 
 corrected by the great Doctor, a part is cited by Boswell 
 among serious (as opposed to burlesque) imitations of 
 Johnson's style. It is this, from Delvile's first letter to 
 Cecilia : " My family, mistaking ambition for honour, 
 and rank for dignity, have long planned a splendid con- 
 nexion for me, to which, though my invariable repugnance 
 has stopped any advances, their wishes and their views im- 
 moveably adhere. I am but too certain they will now 
 listen to no other. I dread therefore to make a trial where 
 I despair of success. I know not how to risk a prayer 
 with those who may silence me by a command." 
 
 The first sentence of this extract has blemishes so obvious 
 that it is plain Boswell might easily have chosen a better 
 passage for his purpose. Macaulay has chosen a second, 
 much better suited to his. 1 In the most Johnsonian pas- 
 sage in ' Cecilia,' Boswell seems only to have seen a serious 
 imitation of Johnson's style ; " whether," as he writes, " in- 
 tentionally, or by the imperceptible effect of its strength 
 
 the city ? " (Briggs) " he would have taken care you should not 
 part with it so much below par." Diary of M""- IfArblay, p. 196, vol. ii. 
 Two thousand pounds could not, even by Burke, using the most friendly 
 of hyperboles, have then been called below par. 
 
 1 " Even the imperious Mr. Delvile was more supportable here than 
 in London. Secure in his own castle, he looked round him with a pride 
 of power and possession which softened while it swelled him. His supe- 
 riority was undisputed : his will was without control. He was not, as 
 in the great capital of the kingdom, surrounded by competitors. No 
 rivalry disturbed his peace ; no equality mortified his greatness. All 
 he saw were either vassals of his power, or guests bending to his pleasure.
 
 A PREFACE. XV11 
 
 and animation." Such imitations are quoted by Boswell 
 from Gibbon, Robertson, and others besides Miss Burney. 
 
 Over all those writers she had a great advantage, that of 
 living long tinder the same roof with Dr. Johnson ; she 
 had caught his manner by ear as well as eye. 
 
 No evidence gathered from the style of ' Cecilia ' can, 
 it seems to us, outweigh the declaration of Dr. Johnson, 
 recorded in the ' Diary of Madame D'Arblay ' on the 4th 
 of November, 1782 : 
 
 " Some people want to make out some credit to me from 
 the little rogue's book. I was told by a gentleman this 
 morning that it was a very fine book if it was all her own. 
 ' It is all her own,' said I, 'for me, I am sure, for I never 
 saw one word before it was printed.' " x 
 
 It is quite true that, as Macaulay said, " N"o such para- 
 graph as that beginning with, ' Even the imperious Mr. 
 Delvile,' &c. 2 can be found in any of Madame D'Arblay's 
 works except ' Cecilia.' " Does this show more than that 
 the influence of Dr. Johnson's manner of expressing his 
 thoughts was transient upon a mind so mobile and sensitive 
 as that of Frances Burney ? In 1796 she would seem to 
 have borrowed the pen of Anna Seward, who had friends 
 
 He abated, therefore, considerably the stern gloom of his haughtiness, 
 and soothed his proud mind by the courtesy of condescension." 
 
 Macaulay writes of this passage : " This is in a good style, though 
 not in a faultless one. We say with confidence, either Sam Johnson, or 
 the Devil." 
 
 1 Although Madame D'Arblay lived so near our own time, and has 
 left ample journals, full of facts about herself, she has been subjected to 
 many, and surprising, misrepresentations. Some of the most perverse of 
 them are in a narrative, filling six pages of that wild work which the 
 late Mr. T. J. Hogg was pleased to call " The Life of Percy Bysshe 
 Shelley." Hogg seems to have met Madame D'Arblay, by chance, in 
 the year 1812. He makes her tell, and tells about her, a story every 
 particular of which is untrue. He drew on a failing memory, or on a 
 reckless fancy ; he decries her, and her father, and winds all up by im- 
 puting to her brother, Admiral Burney, whom he does not seem to have 
 met, the loss of sixteen men out of a boat's crew in one of Cook's voy- 
 ages, through Burney's " misplaced confidence and misplaced obstinacy." 
 Every detail given by Hogg of this calamity is incorrect. A poor mid- 
 shipman and nine men were slain by New Zealand savages ; Lieutenant 
 Burney was merely sent in search of this party when their boat failed to 
 return. 
 
 2 See note 1, p. xviii.
 
 A PREFACE. 
 
 of "luxuriantly blossoming talents," some of whom lay 
 " sopha'ed on silk;" others felt "Petrarchan 1 attach- 
 ments," enjoyed " Edenic privileges," or roamed in " S&l- 
 vatorial dales." It is not likely that this fair Euphuist 
 imitated Madame D'Arblay, or that she was imitated 
 by her in 'Camilla.' Each, perhaps, displays what Dr. 
 Johnson's style might come to, when improved by a con- 
 ceited clever woman with some learning, such as was Miss 
 Seward ; or by a more able, but self-taught writer, like 
 Frances Burney. 
 
 It is almost lost labour to scrutinize the style of an 
 author who, when she aimed at style, wrote amiss. When 
 she wrote as Nature bade her, she sometimes fell into bad 
 grammar, and now and then let slip vulgar words or 
 phrases, but on the whole expressed her meaning in a not 
 unpleasant manner. 
 
 The first volume of ' Cecilia ' is written with consider- 
 able care ; the rest show signs of haste. Dr. Burney was 
 impatient for the publication of a second work, and hurried 
 his daughter, who wished to have more time for the revision 
 of ' Cecilia.' This may be the reason why homely, or odd, 
 expressions are left straggling among patches of stately 
 Johnsonese. Mr. Gosport leaves a room. Mrs. Charl- 
 ton departs this life. The very same phrase, and that 
 phrase a stage direction, is used in both cases. " He made 
 his exit." " Mrs. Charlton had made her exit during the 
 night." In 'Camilla,' people "stroam 2 the fields," or 
 " stroam into a ball-room, led by the start of the moment ; " 
 and instead of making their e^its, they " make off," so that 
 we can quite believe " scrawl " instead of " crawl," in 
 ' Cecilia ' to be no mere printer's error. " Me," 3 is used 
 as a nominative case, " should " instead of " would," 
 "slow," "wrong," "right," occur as adverbs. Miss 
 Burnej's sentences are sometimes made obscure by the use 
 of pronouns instead of proper names ; but they are still 
 
 1 By a " Petrarchan attachment," Miss Seward means an attachment 
 to the wife of another man. 
 
 2 This very vulgar corruption of "stroll" is also used by Miss 
 Edgeworth. 
 
 3 We remember hearing Dr. Whewell defend a little girl who said " Me," 
 instead of I. " It was/' he said, " so natural, that it could not be wrong/*
 
 A PREFACE. XIX 
 
 more often inverted, than involved. " Words in disarray," 
 as Dr. Johnson said, were very common in print before 
 1800, and a few instances of " disarray " may be fonnd in 
 the early prose of Scott, as in that of Miss Edgeworth and 
 Miss Austen. They give tip these ornaments of style, 
 (" French beads and Bristol stones ! " we call them) as they 
 write on. 
 
 Never was writer so bent on putting words out of their 
 natural order as Miss Burney. The trick becomes unplea- 
 sant to the eye ; still more so to the ear, if ' Cecilia ' be 
 read aloud. One of Miss Burney's great aims is to avoid 
 what she may have thought the mean, little words, " do " 
 and " did." Such evasions of " did," as " he found not," 
 " she felt not," abound. When she wrote " a regard the 
 most partial," " a reverence the most profound," " reasons 
 unanswerable," " amazement unspeakable," it may be said 
 that she Gallicized Gallicize she sometimes did ; as, for 
 instance, when she used " to guard " in the sense of to 
 keep, and " long- attended happiness" when she meant 
 long-expected. Still we fancy that she considered inversion 
 to be ornamental, nay, dignified, and did not consciously 
 affect a French arrangement of words as being French. 
 What she came to in ' Camilla ' is so insufferable, that, on 
 finding this simple sentence " Thus lived and died another 
 week," we copied it at once as being the best in the five 
 volumes. 
 
 The worst of her was that she set herself to work to em- 
 bellish a language of which she was not mistress the diffi- 
 cult and unsettled English tongue. " Surely," she wrote, 
 " I may make words when at a loss, if Dr. Johnson does.'* 
 When Dr. Johnson made words, which was more rarely 
 than is thought, he drew them from languages which he 
 knew well, in concord with old laws of word-making. They 
 might be cumbrous, but they were correct. He had pressed 
 Miss Burney to let him teach her Latin. She did not get 
 enough of it to do her any good ; and, most likely, not 
 even enough to do her any harm. 1 It is to her native 
 
 1 Miss Burney withdrew rather ungraciously from the Latin lessons 
 Dr. Johnson gave to her with Miss Thrale. There are some smart hits 
 at her and her father (that " goose of a man," who did not want Fanny 
 to know as much as he did!) in Mrs. Thrale's note-book. Fanny herself
 
 XX A PSIFACE. 
 
 genius for word-making that we owe a " woe-teeming 
 passion," and other fine flowers of speech. An officer looks 
 well in uniform, she makes him " show his fine person to 
 regimental advantage." She lies awake at night, " my 
 thoughts take an ascendance over my Morphetic faculty." A 
 bull-dog attacks the hero of ' Camilla ; ' the heroine " darts 
 down the bank, and arrives at the tremendous spot." l 
 
 It is impossible to acquit Miss Burney of affectation, 
 unless we deny her that fine judgment which is known by 
 the very poor name of " taste." Her love of finery in 
 phrases increased, until even her letters and Diary were 
 marred by it. 
 
 She seems to have loved reading, and to have gone on 
 loving it. She was so far beyond her old friend Mrs. 
 Thrale, that she knew how to value Scott. Mrs. Thrale, 
 who was twelve years older than Madame D'Arblay, com- 
 plained that the ' Tales of My Landlord ' were written in 
 a new way, quite unlike what was admired when she was 
 young. 
 
 Yet the critical perceptions of Madame D'Arblay do not 
 seem to have been acute. She writes to her father, that 
 she will stake her new cottage (Camilla Cottage, built with 
 the profits of her book) that Mason is the author of 
 * The Pursuits of Literature.' From that wearisome 
 work she selects for high praise, an atrocious line on 
 Shakespeare, 
 
 " His pen he dipped in mind." 
 
 It is impossible to doubt that to Frances Burney we owe 
 in great measure the many admirable novels written by 
 women. The discovery that a young and modest lady 
 could write without causing horror to her friends, and while 
 marrying her heroines, hindering her own marriage, must 
 
 wrote, " To devote so much time to acquire something (Latin) I shall 
 always dread to have known, is really unpleasant enough." " I have 
 more fear of the malignity which will attend it's being known, than 
 delight in what advantages it may afford." Here Miss Burney seems to 
 us to show a fine eye for matrimonial prospects. 
 
 1 These examples are taken from later writings than ' Cecilia,' ia 
 order to show to what the comparatively healthy style of ' Cecilia ' 
 could and did degenerate.
 
 A PREFACE. XXI 
 
 have had great influence upon the families of two ladies 
 younger than Madame D'Arblay, of Maria Edgeworth,, 
 born in 1767, and of Jane Austen, born in 1775, as well 
 as upon themselves. 
 
 It is scarcely possible to read some of Miss Edgeworth's 
 early writings, and quite impossible to read the three first 
 novels of Miss Austen, without perceiving how much both 
 writers were affected by what Miss Burney had written. It 
 is shown even more by what they avoid in her than by 
 what they imitate. They have absorbed all that is best 
 in her books, and with humour beyond her own, they 
 make those of their heroines who are most after their own 
 hearts, act as Evelina, Cecilia, or Camilla, never could, or 
 would have done. This is more specially said of Miss 
 Austen. Miss Edgeworth was reared among the ministers 
 of the new cult of Utility, and might perhaps have made 
 her Belindas and Carolines prudent to as painful an ex- 
 cess, if she had never read ' Cecilia,' but should we have 
 had Elinor Dash wood, and Elizabeth Bennet? Such a 
 first book as ' Pride and Prejudice,' written at one-and- 
 twenty, is more wonderful than all that Finances Burney 
 ever wrote. Yet if she never reaches Miss Austen's surety 
 of touch and harmony of tone, she may be said to aim 
 higher. Miss Austen always works within limits, of her 
 own choice ; imposed on her, it may be, by her own judg- 
 ment, which told her to write comedy. There is not one 
 death in her six novels, and very few disasters. Frances 
 Burney chose larger canvases, some subjects more tragic, 
 and some models more heroic in their proportions. She 
 moved to tears three generations : one which was growing 
 old while she was young, one whose life ran with her own, 
 and one born while she was famous. She just missed 
 knowing Richardson ; she was sought and honoured by 
 Scott.
 
 A PREFACE. 
 
 A LETTER 
 From the Right Honourable EDMUND BURKS to 
 
 Miss F. BURNEY. 
 Madam, 
 
 I should feel exceedingly to blame if I could refuse to 
 myself the natural satisfaction, and to you the just but 
 poor return, of my best thanks for the very great instruc- 
 tion and entertainment I have received from the new present 
 you have bestowed on the public. There are few I believe 
 I may say fairly there are none at all that will not find 
 themselves better informed concerning human nature, and 
 their stock of observation enriched by reading your 'Ce- 
 cilia.' They certainly will, let their experience in life and 
 manners be what it may. The arrogance of age must sub- 
 mit to be taught by youth. You have crowded into a few 
 small volumes an incredible variety of characters ; most of 
 them well planned, well supported, and well contrasted with 
 each other. If there be any fault in this respect, it is one 
 in which you are in no great danger of being imitated. 
 Justly as your characters are drawn, perhaps they are too 
 numerous. But I beg pardon ; I fear it is quite in vain to 
 preach economy to those who are come young to excessive 
 and sudden opulence. 
 
 I might trespass on your delicacy if I should fill my letter 
 to you with what I fill my conversation to others. I should 
 be troublesome to you alone if I should tell you all I feel and 
 think on the natural vein of humour, the tender pathetic, 
 the comprehensive and noble moral, and the sagacious ob- 
 servation, that appear quite throughout that extraordinary 
 performance. 
 
 In an age distinguished by producing extraordinary 
 women, I hardly dare to tell you where my opinion would 
 place you amongst them. I respect your modesty, that 
 will not endure the commendations which your merit forces 
 from everybody. 
 
 I have the honour to be, with great gratitude, respect, 
 and esteem, madam, your most obedient and most humble 
 servant, EDM. BURKE. 
 
 Whitehall, July 29, 1782. 
 
 My best compliments and congratulations to Dr. Burney 
 on the great honour acquired to his family.
 
 [THE ORIGINAL PREFACE TO l CECILIA.'] 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 T^HE indulgence shown by the public to Evelina, 
 J- which, unpatronized, unaided, and unowned, past 
 through Four Editions in one year, has encouraged its 
 Author to risk this second attempt. The animation of suc- 
 cess is too universally acknowledged to make the writer of 
 the following sheets dread, much censure of temerity ; 
 though the precariousness of any power to give pleasure 
 suppresses all vanity of confidence, and sends Cecilia 
 into the world with scarce more hope, though far more 
 encouragement, than attended her highly honoured prede- 
 cessor, Evelina. 
 
 JULY, 1782.
 
 CECILIA. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A JOURNEY. 
 
 " TDEACE to the spirits of my honoured parents, respected 
 -*- be their remains, and immortalized their virtues ! 
 may time, while it moulders their frail relics to dust, com- 
 mit to tradition the record of their goodness ! and, oh, may 
 their orphan descendant be influenced through life by the 
 remembrance of their purity, and in death be solaced, that 
 by her it was unsullied ! " 
 
 Such was the secret prayer with which the only survivor 
 of the Beverley family quitted the abode of her youth, and 
 residence of her forefathers ; while tears of recollecting 
 sorrow filled her eyes, and obstructed the last view of her 
 native town which had excited them. 
 
 Cecilia, this fair traveller, had lately entered into the 
 one-and-twentieth year of her age. Her ancestors had 
 been rich farmers in the county of Suffolk, though her 
 father, in whom a spirit of elegance had supplanted the 
 rapacity of wealth, had spent his time as a private country 
 gentleman, satisfied, without increasing his store, to live 
 upon what he inherited from the labours of his predeces- 
 sors. She had lost him in her early youth, and her mother 
 had not long survived him. They had bequeathed to her 
 
 10,000, and consigned her to the care of the Dean of , 
 
 her uncle. With this gentleman, in whom, by various con- 
 tingencies, the accumulated possessions of a rising and 
 prosperous family were centred, she had passed the last 
 four years of her life ; and a few weeks only had yet elapsed 
 since his death, which, by depriving her of her last rela- 
 
 B
 
 2 CECILIA. 
 
 tion, made her heiress to an estate of 3,000 per annum ; 
 with no other restriction than that of annexing her name, 
 if she married, to the disposal of her hand and her riches. 
 
 But though thus largely indebted to fortune, to nature 
 she had yet greater obligations : her form was elegant, her 
 heart was liberal ; her countenance announced the intelli- 
 gence of her mind, her complexion varied with every 
 emotion of her soul, and her eyes, the heralds of her 
 speech, now beamed with understanding and now glistened 
 with sensibility. 
 
 For the short period of her minority, the management 
 of her fortune, and the care of her person, had been en- 
 trusted by the Dean to three guardians, among whom her 
 own choice was to settle her residence : but her mind, sad- 
 dened by the loss of all her natural friends, coveted to 
 regain its serenity in the quietness of the country, and in 
 the bosom of an aged and maternal counsellor, whom she 
 loved as her mother, and to whom she had been known 
 from her childhood. 
 
 The Deanery, indeed, she was obliged to relinquish, a 
 long repining expectant being eager, by entering it, to be- 
 queath to another the anxiety and suspense he had suffered 
 himself, though probably without much impatience to 
 shorten their duration in favour of the next successor ; but 
 the house of Mrs. Charlton, her benevolent friend, was 
 open for her reception, and the alleviating tenderness of 
 her conversation took from her all wish of changing it. 
 
 Here she had dwelt since the interment of her uncle ; 
 and here, from the affectionate gratitude of her disposition, 
 she had perhaps been content to dwell till her own, had 
 not her guardians interfered to remove her. 
 
 Reluctantly she complied. She quitted her early com- 
 panions, the friend she most revered, and the spot which 
 contained the relics of all she had yet lived to lament ; and, 
 accompanied by one of her guardians, and attended by two 
 servants, she began her journey from Bury to London. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, this gentleman, though in the prime of his 
 life, though gay, fashionable and splendid, had been ap- 
 pointed by her uncle to be one of her trustees ; a choice 
 which had for object the peculiar gratification of his niece, 
 whose most favourite young friend Mr. Harrel had married,
 
 CECILIA. O 
 
 and in whose house he therefore knew she would most wish 
 to live. 
 
 Whatever good-nature could dictate or politeness sug- 
 gest to dispel her melancholy, Mr. Harrel failed not to 
 urge ; and Cecilia, in whose disposition sweetness was 
 tempered with dignity, and gentleness with fortitude, suf- 
 fered not his kind offices to seem ineffectual ; she kissed 
 her hand at the last glimpse a friendly hill afforded of her 
 native town, and made an effort to forget the regret with 
 which she lost sight of it. She revived her spirits by plans 
 of future happiness, dwelt upon the delight with which she 
 should meet her young friend, and, by accepting his con- 
 solation, amply rewarded his trouble. 
 
 Her serenity, however, had yet another, though milder 
 trial to undergo, since another friend was yet to be met, 
 and another farewell was yet to be taken. 
 
 At the distance of seven miles from Bury resided Mr. 
 Monckton, the richest and most powerful man in that neigh- 
 bourhood, at whose house Cecilia and her guardian were 
 invited to breakfast in their journey. 
 
 Mr. Monckton, who was the younger son of a noble 
 family, was a man of parts, information and sagacity ; to 
 great native strength of mind he added a penetrating 
 knowledge of the world, and to faculties the most skilful 
 of investigating the character of every other, a dissimu- 
 lation the most profound in concealing his own. In the 
 bloom of his youth, impatient for wealth and ambitious of 
 power, he had tied himself to a rich dowager of quality, 
 whose age, though sixty-seven, was but among the smaller 
 species of her evil properties, her disposition being far 
 more repulsive than her wrinkles. An inequality of years 
 so considerable, had led him to expect that the fortune he 
 had thus acquired, would speedily be released from the 
 burthen with which it was at present incumbered ; but his 
 expectations proved as vain as they were mercenary, and 
 his lady was not more the dupe of his protestations, than 
 he was himself of his own purposes. Ten years he had 
 been married to her, yet her health was good, and her 
 faculties were unimpaired ; eagerly he had watched for her 
 dissolution, yet his eagerness had injured no health but 
 his own ! So short-sighted is selfish cunning, that in aim-
 
 4 CECILIA. 
 
 ing no further than at the gratification of the present mo- 
 ment, it obscures the evils of the future, while it impedes 
 the perception of integrity and honour. 
 
 His ardour, however, to attain the blest period of return- 
 ing liberty, deprived him neither of spirit nor inclination 
 for intermediate enjoyment ; he knew the world too well 
 to incur its censure by ill-treating the woman to whom he 
 was indebted for the rank he held in it ; he saw her, indeed, 
 but seldom, yet he had the decency, alike in avoiding as in 
 meeting her, to show no abatement of civility and good 
 breeding: but, having thus sacrificed to ambition all pos- 
 sibility of happiness in domestic life, he turned his thoughts 
 to those other methods of procuring it which he had so 
 dearly purchased the power of essaying. 
 
 The resources of pleasure to the possessors of wealth are 
 only to be cut off by the satiety of which they are pro- 
 ductive : a satiety which the vigorous mind of Mr. Monck- 
 ton had not yet suffered him to experience; his time, 
 therefore, was either devoted to the expensive amusements 
 of the metropolis, or spent in the country among the 
 gayest of its diversions. 
 
 The little knowledge of fashionable manners and of the 
 characters of the times of which Cecilia was yet mistress, 
 she had gathered at the house of this gentleman, with 
 whom the Dean her uncle had been intimately connected : 
 for, as he preserved to the world the same appearance of 
 decency he supported to his wife, he was everywhere well 
 received, and being but partially known, was extremely 
 respected : the world, with its wonted facility, repaying 
 his circumspect attention to its laws, by silencing the voice 
 of censure, guarding his character from impeachment, and 
 his name from reproach. 
 
 Cecilia had been known to him half her life ; she had 
 been caressed in his house as a beautiful child, and her 
 presence was now solicited there as an amiable acquain- 
 tance. Her visits, indeed, had by no means been frequent, 
 as the ill-humour of Lady Margaret Monckton had ren- 
 dered them painful to her ; yet the opportunities they had 
 afforded her of mixing with people of fashion, had served 
 to prepare her for the new scenes in which she was soon 
 to be a performer.
 
 CECILIA. 5 
 
 Mr. Monckton, in return, had always been a welcome 
 guest at the Deanery ; his conversation was to Cecilia a 
 never-failing source of information, as his knowledge of 
 life and manners enabled him to start those subjects of 
 which she was most ignorant ; and her mind, copious for 
 the admission and intelligent for the arrangement of know- 
 ledge, received all new ideas with avidity. 
 
 Pleasure given in society, like money lent in usury, 
 returns with interest to those who dispense it : and the 
 discourse of Mr. Monckton conferred not a greater favour 
 upon Cecilia than her attention to it repaid. And thus, 
 the speaker and the hearer being mutually gratified, they 
 had always met with complacency, and commonly parted 
 with regret. 
 
 This reciprocation of pleasure had, however, produced 
 different effects upon their minds ; the ideas of Cecilia 
 were enlarged, while the reflections of Mr. Monckton were 
 embittered. He here saw an object who to all the advan- 
 tages of that wealth he had so highly prized, added youth, 
 beauty, and intelligence ; though much her senior, he was 
 by no means of an age to render his addressing her an im- 
 propriety, and the entertainment she received from his 
 conversation, persuaded him that her good opinion might 
 with ease be improved into a regard the most partial. He 
 regretted the venal rapacity with which he had sacrificed 
 himself to a woman he abhorred, and his wishes for her final 
 decay became daily more fervent. He knew that the 
 acquaintance of Cecilia was confined to a circle of which 
 he was himself the principal ornament, that she had rejected 
 all the proposals of marriage which had hitherto been made 
 to her, and, as he had sedulously watched her from 
 her earliest years, he had reason to believe that her 
 heart had escaped any dangerous impression. This being 
 her situation, he had long looked upon her as his future 
 property ; as such he had indulged his admiration, and as 
 such he had already appropriated her estate, though he 
 had not more vigilantly inspected into her sentiments, than 
 he had guarded his own from a similar scrutiny. 
 
 The death of the Dean had, indeed, much alarmed him ; 
 he grieved at her leaving Suffolk, where he considered him- 
 self the first man, alike in parts and in consequence, and
 
 O CECILIA. 
 
 he dreaded her residing in London, where he foresaw that 
 numerous rivals, equal to himself in talents and in riches, 
 would speedily surround her ; rivals, too, youthful and 
 sanguine, not shackled by present ties, but at liberty to 
 solicit her immediate acceptance. Beauty and indepen- 
 dence, rarely found together, would attract a crowd of suitors 
 at once brilliant and assiduous ; and the house of Mr. Harrel 
 was eminent for its elegance and gaiety ; but yet, un- 
 daunted by danger, and confiding in his own powers, he 
 determined to pursue the project he had formed, not fear- 
 ing by address and perseverence to ensure its success. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN ARGUMENT. 
 
 MR. MONCKTON had, at this time, a party of com- 
 pany assembled at his house for the purpose of 
 spending the Christmas holidays. He waited with anxiety 
 the arrival of Cecilia, and flew to hand her from the chaise 
 before Mr. Harrel could alight. He observed the melan- 
 choly of her countenance, and was much pleased to find 
 that her London journey had so little power to charm her. 
 He conducted her to the breakfast parlour, where Lady 
 Margaret and his friends expected her. 
 
 Lady Margaret received her with a coldness that bor- 
 dered upon incivility ; irascible by nature and jealous by 
 situation, the appearance of beauty alarmed, and of cheer- 
 fulness disgusted her. She regarded with watchful sus- 
 picion whoever was addressed by her husband, and having 
 marked his frequent attendance at the Deanery, she had 
 singled out Cecilia for the object of her peculiar antipathy; 
 while Cecilia, perceiving her aversion, though ignorant of 
 its cause, took care to avoid all intercourse with her but 
 what ceremony exacted, and pitied in secret the unfortunate 
 lot of her friend. 
 
 The company now present consisted of one lady and 
 several gentlemen. 
 
 Miss Bennet, the lady, was in every sense of the phrase,
 
 CECILIA. 7 
 
 the Bumble companion of Lady Margaret ; she was low- 
 born, meanly educated, and narrow-minded ; a stranger 
 alike to innate merit or acquired accomplishments, yet 
 skilful in the art of flattery, and an adept in every 
 species of low cunning. With no other view in life than 
 the attainment of affluence without labour, she was not 
 more the slave of the mistress of the house, than the tool 
 of its master ; receiving indignity without murmur, and 
 submitting to contempt as a thing of course. 
 
 Among the gentlemen, the most conspicuous, by means of 
 his dress, was Mr. Aresby, a captain in the militia ; a young 
 man who, having frequently heard the words red-coat and 
 gallantry put together, imagined the conjunction not merely 
 customary, but honourable, and therefore, without even pre- 
 tending to think of the service of his country, he considered 
 a cockade as a badge of politeness, and wore it but to mark 
 his devotion to the ladies, whom he held himself equipped 
 to conquer, and bound to adore. 
 
 The next who, by forwardness the most officious, took 
 care to be noticed, was Mr. Morrice, a young lawyer, who, 
 though rising in his profession, owed his success neither to 
 distinguished abilities, nor to skill- supplying industry, but 
 to the art of uniting suppleness to others with confidence 
 in himself. To a reverence of rank, talents, and fortune 
 the most profound, he joined an assurance in his own 
 merit, which no superiority could depress ; and with a pre- 
 sumption which encouraged him to aim at all things, he 
 blended a good humour that no mortification could lessen. 
 And while by the pliability of his disposition he avoided 
 making enemies, by his readiness to oblige he learned the 
 surest way of making friends, by becoming useful to them. 
 
 There were also some neighbouring squires ; and there 
 was one old gentleman, who, without seeming to notice 
 any of the company, sat frowning in a corner. 
 
 But the principal figure in the circle was Mr. Belfield, 
 a tall, thin young man, whose face was all animation, and 
 whose eyes sparkled with intelligence. He had been in- 
 tended by his father for trade, but his spirit, soaring above 
 the occupation for which he was designed, from repining 
 led him to resist, and from resisting, to rebel. He eloped 
 from his friends, and contrived to enter the army. But,
 
 8 CECILIA. 
 
 fond of the polite arts, and eager for the acquirement of 
 knowledge, he found not this way of life much better adapted 
 to his inclination than that from which he had escaped; he 
 soon grew weary of it, was reconciled to his father, and 
 entered at the Temple. But here, too volatile for serious 
 study, and too gay for laborious application, he made little 
 progress : and the same quickness of parts and vigour of 
 imagination which, united with prudence or accompanied 
 by judgment, might have raised him to the head of his pro- 
 fession, being unhappily associated with fickleness and 
 caprice, served only to impede his improvement, and ob- 
 struct his preferment. And now, with little business, and 
 that little neglected, a small fortune, and that fortune 
 daily becoming less, the admiration of the world, but that 
 admiration ending simply in civility, he lived an unsettled 
 and unprofitable life, generally caressed, and universally 
 sought, yet careless of his interest, and thoughtless of the 
 future ; devoting his time to company, his income to dis- 
 sipation, and his heart to the Muses. 
 
 " I bring you," said Mr. Monckton, as he attended 
 Cecilia into the room, " a subject of sorrow in a young 
 lady, who never gave disturbance to her friends but in 
 quitting them." 
 
 " If sorrow," cried Mr. Belfield, darting upon her his 
 piercing eyes, " wears in your part of the world a form 
 such as this, who would wish to change it for a view of 
 
 joy?" 
 
 " She's divinely handsome, indeed ! " cried the captain, 
 affecting an involuntary exclamation. 
 
 Meantime, Cecilia, who was placed next to the lady of 
 the house, quietly began her breakfast ; Mr. Morrice, the 
 young lawyer, with the most easy freedom, seating himself 
 at her side, while Mr. Monckton was elsewhere arranging 
 the rest of his guests, in order to secure that place for 
 himself. 
 
 Mr. Morrice, without ceremony, attacked his fair neigh- 
 bour; he talked of her journey, and the prospects of 
 gaiety which it opened to her view ; but by these finding 
 her unmoved, he changed his theme, and expatiated upon 
 the delights of the spot she was quitting. Studious to 
 recommend himself to her notice, and indifferent by what
 
 CECILIA. 9 
 
 means, one moment he flippantly extolled the entertain- 
 ments of the town; and the next, rapturously described 
 the charms of the country. A word, a look, sufficed to 
 mark her approbation or dissent, which he no sooner dis- 
 covered, than he slided into her opinion with as much 
 facility and satisfaction as if it had originally been 
 his own. 
 
 Mr. Monckton, suppressing his chagrin, waited some 
 time in expectation that when this young man saw he was 
 standing, he would yield to him his chair : but the remark 
 was not made, and the resignation was not thought of. 
 The Captain, too, regarding the lady as his natural property 
 for the morning, perceived with indignation by whom he 
 was supplanted ; while the company in general saw, with 
 much surprise, the place they had severally forborne to 
 occupy from respect to their host, thus familiarly seized 
 upon by the man who, in the whole room, had the least 
 claim, either from age or rank, to consult nothing but his 
 own inclination. 
 
 Mr. Monckton, however, when he found that delicacy 
 and good manners had no weight with his guest, thought 
 it most expedient to allow them none with himself ; and 
 therefore, disguising his displeasure under an appearance 
 of facetiousness, he called out, " Come, Morrice, you that 
 love Christmas sports, what say you to the game of 
 move- all?" 
 
 " I like it of all things ! " answered Morrice, and start- 
 ing from his chair, he skipped to another. 
 
 " So should I too," cried Mr. Monckton, instantly taking 
 his place, " were I to remove from any seat but this." 
 
 Morrice, though he felt himself outwitted, was the first 
 to laugh, and seemed as happy in the change as Mr. 
 Monekton himself. 
 
 Mr. Monckton now, addressing himself to Cecilia, said, 
 " We are going to lose you, and you seem concerned at 
 leaving us ; yet, in a very few months, you will forget 
 Bury, forget its inhabitants, and forget its environs." 
 
 " If you think so," answered Cecilia, " must I not thence 
 infer that Bury, its inhabitants, and its environs, will in a 
 very few months forget me ? " 
 
 "Ay, ay, and so much the better!" said Lady Mar-
 
 10 CECILIA. 
 
 garet, muttering between her teeth, "so much the 
 better ! " 
 
 " I am sorry you think so, madam," cried Cecilia, 
 colouring at her ill-breeding. 
 
 " You will find," said Mr. Monckton, affecting the same 
 ignorance of her meaning that Cecilia really felt, " as you 
 mix with the world, you will find that Lady Margaret has 
 but expressed what by almost everybody is thought : to 
 neglect old friends, and to court new acquaintance, though 
 perhaps not yet avowedly delivered as a precept from 
 parents to children, is nevertheless so universally recom- 
 mended by example, that those who act differently, incur 
 general censure for affecting singularity." 
 
 " It is happy then, for me," answered Cecilia, " that 
 neither my actions nor myself will be sufficiently known to 
 attract public observation." 
 
 " You intend, then, madam," said Mr. Belfield, " in 
 defiance of these maxims of the world, to be guided by the 
 light of your own understanding." 
 
 "And such," returned Mr. Monckton, "at first setting 
 out in life, is the intention of every one. The closet 
 reasoner is always refined in his sentiments, and always 
 confident in his virtue ; but when he mixes with the world, 
 when he thinks less and acts more, he soon finds the 
 necessity of accommodating himself to such customs as 
 are already received, and of pursuing quietly the track 
 that is already marked out." 
 
 " But not," exclaimed Mr. Belfield, " if he has the least 
 grain of spirit ! the beaten track will be the last that a 
 man of parts will deign to tread, 
 
 ' For common rules were ne'er design'd 
 Directors of a noble mind.'"'"' 
 
 " A pernicious maxim ! a most pernicious maxim ! " cried 
 the old gentleman, who sat frowning in a corner of the 
 room. 
 
 " Deviations from common rules," said Mr. Monckton, 
 without taking any notice of this interruption, " when 
 they proceed from genius, are not merely pardonable, but 
 admirable ; and you, Belfield, have a peculiar right to 
 plead their merits ; but so little genius as there is in the
 
 CECILIA. 11 
 
 world, you must surely grant that pleas of this sort are 
 very rarely to be urged." 
 
 "And, why rarely," cried Belfield, "but because your 
 general rules, your appropriated customs, your settled 
 forms, are but so many absurd arrangements to impede not 
 merely the progress of genius, but the use of under- 
 standing ? If man dared, act for himself, if neither 
 worldly views, contracted prejudices, eternal precepts, nor 
 compulsive examples, swayed his better reason and. im- 
 pelled his conduct, how noble indeed would he be ! how 
 infinite in facilities ! in apprehension how like a God!" 1 
 
 " All this," answered Mr. Monckton, " is but the doc- 
 trine of a lively imagination, that looks upon impossi- 
 bilities simply as difficulties, and upon difficulties as mere 
 invitations to victory. But experience teaches another 
 lesson ; experience shows that the opposition of an indi- 
 vidual to a community is always dangerous in the opera- 
 tion, and seldom successful in the event ; never, indeed, 
 without a concurrence, strange as desirable, of fortunate 
 circumstances with great abilities." 
 
 " And why is this," returned Belfield, " but because the 
 attempt is so seldom made ? The pitiful prevalence of 
 general conformity extirpates genius, and murders origi- 
 nality ; man is brought up, not as if he were ' the noblest 
 work of God,' but as a mere ductile machine of human 
 formation : he is early taught that he must neither consult 
 his understanding, nor pursue his inclinations, lest, un- 
 happily for his commerce with the world, his understand- 
 ing should be averse to fools, and provoke him to despise 
 them ; and his inclinations to the tyranny of perpetual 
 restraint, and give him courage to abjure it." 
 
 " I am ready enough to allow," answered Mr. Monckton, 
 " that an eccentric genius, such, for example, as yours, 
 may murmur at the tediousness of complying with the 
 customs of the world, and wish, unconfined and at large, 
 to range through life, without any settled plan or pru- 
 dential restriction; but would yon, therefore, grant the 
 same licence to every one ? Would you wish to see the 
 world peopled with defiers of order, and contemners of 
 
 1 Hamlet. (Author's note.')
 
 12 CKCILIA. 
 
 established forms ? and not merely excuse the irregularities 
 resulting from uncommon parts, but encourage those also 
 to lead, who, without blundering, cannot even follow ? " 
 
 " I would have all men," replied Belfield, " whether 
 philosophers or idiots, act for themselves. Every one 
 would then appear what he is ; enterprize would be en- 
 couraged, and imitation abolished ; genius would feel its 
 superiority, and folly its insignificance ; and then, and then 
 only, should we cease to be surfeited with that eternal 
 sameness of manner and appearance which at present runs 
 through all ranks of men." 
 
 " Petrifying dull work this, mon ami /" said the captain, 
 in a whisper to Morrice ; " de grace, start some new game." 
 
 " With all my heart," answered he; and then, suddenly 
 jumping up, exclaimed, " A hare ! a hare !" 
 
 "Where ? where ? which way ?" and all the gentle- 
 men arose, and ran to different windows, except the master 
 of the house, the object of whose pursuit was already 
 near him. 
 
 Morrice, with much pretended earnestness, flew from 
 window to window, to trace footsteps upon the turf which 
 he knew had not printed it : yet, never inattentive to his 
 own interest, when he perceived, in the midst of the com- 
 bustion he had raised, that Lady Margaret was incensed at 
 the noise it produced, he artfully gave over his search, and 
 seating himself in a chair next to her, eagerly offered to 
 assist her with cakes, chocolate, or whatever the table 
 afforded. 
 
 He had, however, effectually broken up the conversation ; 
 and breakfast being over, Mr. Harrel ordered his chaise, 
 and Cecilia arose to take leave. 
 
 And now not without some difficulty could Mr. Monck- 
 ton disguise the uneasy fears which her departure occa- 
 sioned him. Taking her hand, " I suppose," he said, 
 " you will not permit an old friend to visit you in town, 
 lest the sight of him should prove a disagreeable memorial 
 of the time you will soon regret having wasted in the 
 country ?" 
 
 " Why will you say this, Mr. Monckton ? " cried Cecilia ; 
 " I am sure you cannot think it." 
 
 " These profound studiers of mankind, madam," said
 
 CECILIA. 13 
 
 Belfield, " are mighty sorry champions for constancy or 
 friendship. They wage war with all expectations but of 
 depravity, and grant no quarter even to the purest designs, 
 where they think there will be any temptation to deviate 
 from them." 
 
 " Temptation," said Mr. Monckton, " is very easy of re- 
 sistance in theory ; but if you reflect upon the great change 
 of situation Miss Beverley will experience, upon the new 
 scenes she will see, the new acquaintance she must make, 
 and the new connections she may form, you will not wonder 
 at the anxiety of a friend for her welfare." 
 
 "But I presume," cried Belfield, with a laugh, "Miss 
 Beverley does not mean to convey her person to town, and 
 leave her understanding locked up, with other natural 
 curiosities, in the country. Why, therefore, may not the 
 same discernment regulate her adoption of new acquain- 
 tance, and choice of new connections, that guided her 
 selection of old ones ? Do you suppose that because she 
 is to take leave of you, she is to take leave of herself ? " 
 
 " Where fortune smiles upon youth and beauty,'' 
 answered Mr. Monckton, " do you think it nothing that 
 their fair possessor should make a sudden transition of 
 situation from the quietness of a retired lif e in the country, 
 to the gaiety of a splendid town residence ?" 
 
 " Where fortune frowns upon youth and beauty," re- 
 tiirned Belfield, " they may not irrationally excite com- 
 miseration ; but where nature and chance 'unite their 
 forces to bless the same object, what room there may be 
 for alarm or lamentation I confess I cannot divine." 
 
 "What!" cried Mr. Monckton, with some emotion, 
 " are there not sharpers, fortune-hunters, sycophants, 
 wretches of all sorts and denominations, who watch the 
 approach of the rich and unwary, feed upon their inexpe- 
 rience, and prey upon their property ? " 
 
 "Come, come," cried Mr. Harrel, "it is time I should 
 hasten my fair ward away, if this is your method of de- 
 scribing the place she is going to live in." 
 
 " Is it possible," cried the Captain, advancing to Cecilia, 
 " that this lady has never yet tried the town ?" and then, 
 lowering his voice, and smiling languishingly in her face, he 
 added, " Can any thing so divinely handsome have been
 
 14 CECILIA. 
 
 immured in the country ? Ah ! quelle Jionte ! do you make 
 it a principle to be so cruel ? " 
 
 Cecilia, thinking such a compliment merited not any 
 other notice than a slight bow, turned to Lady Margaret, 
 and said, " Should your ladyship be in town this winter, 
 may I expect the honour of hearing where I may wait 
 upon you?" 
 
 " I don't know whether I shall go or not," answered the 
 old lady, with her usual ungraciousness. 
 
 Cecilia would now have hastened away, but Mr. Monck- 
 ton, stopping her again, expressed his fears of the conse- 
 quences of her journey ; " Be upon your guard," he cried, 
 " with all new acquaintance ; judge nobody from appear- 
 ances ; form no friendship rashly ; take time to look about 
 you, and remember you can make no alteration in your way 
 of life without greater probability of faring worse than 
 chance of faring better. Keep therefore as you are, and 
 the more you see of others, the more you will rejoice that 
 you neither resemble nor are connected with them." 
 
 "This from you, Mr. Monckton!" cried Belfield, "what 
 is become of your conformity system ? I thought all the 
 world was to be alike, or only so much the worse for any 
 variation?" 
 
 " I spoke," said Mr. Monckton, " of the world in general, 
 not of this lady in particular ; and who that knows, who 
 that sees her, would not wish it were possible she might 
 continue in every respect exactly and unalterably what she 
 is at present ? " 
 
 " I find," said Cecilia, " you are determined that flattery, 
 at least, should I meet with it, shall owe no pernicious 
 effects to its novelty." 
 
 "Well, Miss Beverley," cried Mr. Harrel, "will you now 
 venture to accompany me to town ? Or has Mr. Monckton 
 frightened you from proceeding any further ?" 
 
 "If," replied Cecilia, " I felt no more sorrow in quitting 
 my friends, than I feel terror in venturing to London, with 
 how light a heart should I make the journey ! " 
 
 " Brava ! " cried Belfield, " I am happy to find the dis- 
 course of Mr. Monckton has not intimidated you, nor 
 prevailed upon you to deplore your condition, in having the 
 accumulated misery of being young, fair and affluent."
 
 CECILIA. 15 
 
 "Alas ! poor thing ! " exclaimed the old gentleman who 
 sat in the corner, fixing his eyes upon Cecilia, with an ex- 
 pression of mingled grief and pity. 
 
 Cecilia started, but no one else paid him any attention. 
 
 The usual ceremonies of leave-taking now followed, and 
 the Captain, with most obsequious reverence, advanced to 
 conduct Cecilia to the carriage ; but in the midst of the 
 dumb eloquence of his vows and smiles, Mr. Morrice, af- 
 fecting not to perceive his design, skipped gaily between 
 them, and, without any previous formality, seized the hand 
 of Cecilia himself ; failing not, however, to temper the free- 
 dom of his action by a look of respect the most profound. 
 
 The Captain shrugged and retired. But Mr. Monckton, 
 enraged at his assurance, and determined it should nothing 
 avail him, exclaimed, " Why how now, Morrice, do you 
 take away the privilege of my house ?" 
 
 " True, true ; " answered Morrice, " you members of par- 
 liament have an undoubted right to be tenacious of your 
 privileges." Then, bowing with a look of veneration to 
 Cecilia, he resigned her hand with an air of as much happi- 
 ness as he had taken it. 
 
 Mr. Monckton, in leading her to the chaise, again begged 
 permission to wait upon her in town : Mr. Harrel took the 
 hint, and entreated him to consider his house as his own ; 
 and Cecilia, gratefully thanking him for his solicitude in 
 her welfare, added, " And I hope, sir, you will honour me 
 with your counsel and admonitions with respect to my 
 future conduct, whenever you have the goodness to let me 
 see you." 
 
 This was precisely his wish. He begged, in return, that 
 she would treat him with confidence, and then suffered the 
 chaise to drive off.
 
 16 CECILIA. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AN ARRIVAL. 
 
 AS soon as they lost sight of the house, Cecilia expressed 
 her surprise at the behaviour of the old gentleman 
 who sat in the corner, whose general silence, seclusion from 
 the company, and absence of mind, had strongly excited 
 her curiosity. 
 
 Mr. Harrel could give her very little satisfaction: he 
 told her that he had twice or thrice met him in public 
 places, where everybody remarked the singularity of his 
 manners and appearance, but that he had never dis- 
 coursed with any one to whom he seemed known ; and that 
 he was as much surprised as herself in seeing so strange a 
 character at the house of Mr. Monckton. 
 
 The conversation then turned upon the family they had 
 just quitted, and Cecilia warmly declared the good opinion 
 she had of Mr. Monckton, the obligations she owed to him 
 for the interest which, from her childhood, he had always 
 taken in her affairs ; and her hopes of reaping much instruc- 
 tion from the friendship of a man who had so extensive a 
 knowledge of the world. 
 
 Mr. Harrel professed himself well satisfied that she should 
 have such a counsellor ; for though but little acquainted 
 with him, he knew he was a man of fortune and fashion, 
 and well esteemed in the world. They mutually compas- 
 sionated his unhappy situation in domestic life, and Cecilia 
 innocently expressed her concern at the dislike Lady 
 Margaret seemed to have taken to her ; a dislike which 
 Mr. Harrel naturally imputed to her youth and beauty, 
 yet without suspecting any cause more cogent than a gene- 
 ral jealousy of attractions of which she had herself so long 
 outlived the possession. 
 
 As their journey drew near to its conclusion, all the 
 uneasy and disagreeable sensations which in the bosom of 
 Cecilia had accompanied its commencement, gave way to 
 the expectation of quick approaching happiness in again 
 meeting her favourite young friend.
 
 CECILIA. 17 
 
 Mrs. Harrel had in childhood been her playmate, and in 
 youth her school-fellow ; a similarity of disposition with 
 respect to sweetness of temper, had early rendered them 
 dear to each other, though the resemblance extended no 
 further, Mrs. Harrel having no pretensions to the wit or 
 understanding of her friend ; but she was amiable and 
 obliging, and therefore sufficiently deserving affection, 
 though neither blazing with attractions which laid claim to 
 admiration, nor endowed with those superior qualities 
 which mingle respect in the love they inspire. 
 
 From the time of her marriage, which was near three 
 years, she had entirely quitted Suffolk, and had had no 
 intercourse with Cecilia but by letter. She was now just 
 returned from Violet Bank, the name given by Mr. Harrel 
 to a villa about twelve miles from London, where with 
 a large party of company she had spent the Christmas 
 holidays. 
 
 Their meeting was tender and affectionate ; the sensi- 
 bility of Cecilia's heart flowed from her eyes, and the 
 gladness of Mrs. Harrel's dimpled her cheeks. 
 
 As soon as their mutual salutations, expressions of kind- 
 ness, and general enquiries had been made, Mrs. Harrel 
 begged to lead her to the drawing-room, " where," she 
 added, " you will see some of my friends, who are impatient 
 to be presented to you." 
 
 " I could have wished," said Cecilia, " after so long an 
 absence, to have passed this first evening alone with 
 
 you." 
 
 " They are all people who particularly desired to see you," 
 she answered, " and I had them by way of entertaining 
 you, as I was afraid you would be out of spirits at leaving 
 Bury." 
 
 Cecilia, finding the kindness of her intentions, forbore 
 any further expostulation, and quietly followed her to the 
 drawing-room. But as the door was opened, she was struck 
 with amazement upon finding that the apartment, which 
 was spacious, lighted with brilliancy, and decorated with 
 magnificence, was more than half filled with company, 
 everyone of which was dressed with gaiety and profusion. 
 
 Cecilia, who from the word friends, expected to have seen 
 a small and private party, selected for the purpose of social 
 
 c
 
 18 CECILIA. 
 
 converse, started involuntarily at the sight before her, and 
 had hardly courage to proceed. 1 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, however, took her hand, and introduced her 
 to the whole company, who were all severally named to her ; 
 a ceremonial which, though not merely agreeable but even 
 necessary to those who live in the gay world, in order to 
 obviate distressing mistakes, or unfortunate implications in 
 discourse, would by Cecilia have been willingly dispensed 
 with, since to her their names were as new as their persons, 
 and since knowing nothing of their histories, parties, or 
 connections, she could to nothing allude : it therefore served 
 but to heighten her colour and increase her embarrassment. 
 
 A native dignity of mind, however, which had early 
 taught her to distinguish modesty from bashfulness, enabled 
 her in a short time to conquer her surprise, and recover her 
 composure. She entreated Mrs. Harrel to apologize for her 
 appearance, and being seated between two young ladies, 
 endeavoured to seem reconciled to it herself. Nor was this 
 very difficult ; for while her dress, which she had not 
 changed since her journey, joined to the novelty of her 
 face, attracted general observation, the report of her for- 
 tune, which had preceded her entrance, secured to her 
 general respect. She soon found, too, that a company was 
 not necessarily formidable because full dressed, that fami- 
 liarity could be united with magnificence, and that though, 
 to her, everyone seemed attired to walk in a procession, or 
 to grace a drawing-room, no formality was assumed, and 
 no solemnity was affected : everyone was without restraint, 
 even rank obtained but little distinction ; ease was the 
 general plan, and entertainment the general pursuit. 
 
 Cecilia, though new to London, which city the ill-health 
 of her uncle had hitherto prevented her seeing, was yet no 
 stranger to company ; she had passed her time in retire- 
 ment, but not in obscurity, since for some years past she 
 had presided at the table of the Dean, who was visited by 
 the first people of the county in which he lived : and not- 
 withstanding his parties, which were frequent, though 
 
 i " Brighthelmstone, October 26, 1782. Mrs. Thrale declarer! she had 
 refused a flaming party of blues, for fear I should think, if I met them 
 just after my journey, she was playing Mrs. Harrel with me." Miss 
 Burney^s Journal.
 
 CECILIA. 19 
 
 small, and elegant, though private, had not prepared her 
 for the splendour or the diversity of a London assembly, 
 they yet, by initiating her in the practical rules of good- 
 breeding, had taught her to subdue the timid fears of total 
 inexperience, and to repress the bashful feelings of shame- 
 faced awkwardness ; fears and feelings which rather call for 
 compassion than admiration, and which, except in extreme 
 youth, serve but to degrade the modesty they indicate. 
 
 She regarded, therefore, the two young ladies between 
 whom she was seated, rather with a wish of addressing, 
 than a shyness of being attacked by them ; but the elder, 
 Miss Larolles, -was earnestly engaged in discourse with a 
 gentleman, and the younger, Miss Leeson, totally discou- 
 raged her, by the invariable silence and gravity with which 
 from time to time she met her eyes. 
 
 Uninterrupted, therefore, except by occasional speeches 
 from Mr. and Mrs. Harrel, she spent the first part of the 
 evening merely in surveying the company. 
 
 Kor was the company dilatory in returning her notice, 
 since from the time of her entrance into the room, she had 
 been the object of general regard. 
 
 The ladies took an exact inventory of her dress, and 
 internally settled how differently they would have been 
 attired if blessed with equal affluence. 
 
 The men disputed among themselves whether or not she 
 was painted; and one of them asserting boldly that she 
 rouged well, a debate ensued, which ended in a bet, and the 
 decision was mutually agreed to depend upon the colour of 
 her cheeks by the beginning of April, when, if unfaded by 
 bad hours and continual dissipation, they wore the same 
 bright bloom with which they were now glowing, her 
 champion acknowledged that his wager would be lost. 
 
 In about half an hour the gentleman with whom Miss 
 Larolles had been talking, left the room, and then that 
 young lady, turning suddenly to Cecilia, exclaimed, " How 
 odd Mr. Meadows is ! Do you know he says he sha'n't be 
 well enough to go to Lady Ny land's assembly ! How 
 ridiculous ! as if that could hurt him." 
 
 Cecilia, surprised at an attack so little ceremonious, lent 
 her a civil, but silent attention. 
 
 " You shall be there, sha'n't you ? " she added.
 
 20 CECILIA. 
 
 " "No, ma'am, I have not the honour of being at all 
 known to her ladyship." 
 
 " Oh, there's nothing in that," returned she ; " for Mrs. 
 Harrel can acquaint her you are here, and then, you 
 know, she'll send you a ticket, and then you can go." 
 
 "A ticket?" repeated Cecilia. "Does Lady Nyland 
 only admit her company with tickets ? " 
 
 " lord," cried Miss Larolles, laughing immoderately, 
 " don't you know what I mean ? Why, a ticket is only a 
 visiting card, with a name upon it ; but we all call them 
 tickets now." 1 
 
 Cecilia thanked her for the information, and then Miss 
 Larolles enquired " how many miles she had travelled since 
 morning ?" 
 
 " Seventy- three," answered Cecilia, " which I hope will 
 plead my apology for being so little dressed." 
 
 " 0, you're vastly well," returned the other, " and for 
 my part, I never think about dress. But only conceive 
 what happened to me last year ! Do you know I came to 
 town the twentieth of March ! Was not that horrid pro- 
 voking ? " 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Cecilia, " but I am sure I cannot 
 tell why." 
 
 " Not tell why ? " repeated Miss Larolles, " why don't 
 yon know it was the very night of the grand private 
 masquerade at Lord Darien's ? I would not have missed 
 
 1 Cecilia, fresh from Suffolk, might well object to this misuse of the 
 word " ticket." If she opened her '' Johnson's Dictionary," she found 
 " Ticket, (ttiquef) n. s. A token of any right or debt, upon the delivery 
 of which admission is granted, or a claim acknowledged." The word 
 Card itself has but three meanings in this Dictionary, which was begun 
 in 1747, and ended in 1755 : " 1. A paper painted with figures, used in 
 games of chance or skill." 2. The paper on which the words are marked 
 under the mariner's needle. 3. A carding instrument, &c." Messages 
 of inquiry, compliment, or invitation, were long written on the backs of 
 soiled playing-cards. In the " Spiritual Quixote," (which was published 
 in 17 72, though seemingly written some years earlier), there is a diverting 
 chapter on this way of writing notes. Soon afterwards some highly in- 
 genious person contrived blank " message-cards ." Perhaps this happy 
 thought came from the continent, as Sir Horace Mann, at Florence, 
 both made visits " en blanc " (that is, left his name), and wrote upon black- 
 edged paper, before mention is made of such little usages in London.
 
 CECILIA. 21 
 
 it for the whole universe. I never travelled in such an 
 agony in my life ; we did not get to town till monstrous 
 late, and then do you know I had neither a ticket nor a 
 habit ! Only conceive what a distress ! Well, I sent to 
 every creature I knew for a ticket, but they all said there 
 was not one to be had ; so I was just like a mad creature 
 but about ten or eleven o'clock, a young lady of my par- 
 ticular acquaintance, by the greatest good luck in the 
 world happened to be taken suddenly ill ; so she sent me 
 her ticket was not that delightful ? " 
 
 " For her, extremely!" said Cecilia, laughing. 
 
 " "Well," she continued, " then I was almost out of my 
 wits with joy; and I went about, and got one of the 
 sweetest dresses you ever saw. If you'll call upon me 
 some morning, I'll show it you." 
 
 Cecilia, not prepared for an invitation so abrupt, bowed 
 without speaking, and Miss Larolles, too happy in talking 
 herself to be offended at the silence of another, continued 
 her narration. 
 
 " Well, but now comes the vilest part of the business ; 
 do you know, when every thing else was ready, I could not 
 get my hair-dresser ! I sent all over the town he was 
 nowhere to be found ; I thought I should have died with 
 vexation. I assure you I cried so, that if I had not gone 
 in a mask, I should have been ashamed to be seen. And 
 so, after all this monstrous fatigue, I was forced to have 
 my hair dressed by my own maid, quite in a common way ; 
 was not it cruelly mortifying ?" 
 
 " Why yes," answered Cecilia, " I should think it was 
 almost sufficient to make you regret the illness of the 
 young lady who sent you her ticket." 
 
 They were now interrupted by Mrs. Harrel, who ad- 
 vanced to them, followed by a young man of a serious aspect 
 and modest demeanour, and said, " I am happy to see you 
 both so well engaged ; but my brother has been reproach- 
 ing me with presenting everybody to Miss Beverley but 
 himself." 
 
 " I cannot hope," said Mr. Arnott, " that I have any 
 place in the recollection of Miss Beverley ; but long as I 
 have been absent from Suffolk, and unfortunate as I was
 
 22 CECILIA. 
 
 in not seeing her during my last visit there, I am vet sure, 
 even at this distance of time, grown and formed as she is, 
 I should instantly have known her." 
 
 " Amazing ! " cried an elderly gentleman, in a tone of 
 irony, who was standing near them, " for the face is a 
 very common one ! " 
 
 " I remember well," said Cecilia, " that when you left 
 Suffolk, I thought I had lost my best friend." 
 
 "Is that possible?" cried Mr. Arnott, with a look of 
 much delight. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, and not without reason, for in all disputes 
 you were my advocate, in all plays, my companion, and in 
 all difficulties, my assistant." 
 
 " Madam," cried the same gentleman, " if you liked him 
 because he was your advocate, companion, and assistant, 
 pray like me too, for I am ready to become all three at 
 once." 
 
 "You are very good," said Cecilia, laughing, "but at 
 present I find no want of any defender." 
 
 " That's pity," he returned, " for Mr. Arnott seems to 
 me very willing to act the same parts over again with 
 you." 
 
 " But for that purpose he must return to the days of his 
 childhood." 
 
 " Ah, would to Heaven it were possible ! " cried Mr. 
 Arnott, " for they were the happiest of my life." 
 
 "After such a confession," said his companion, "surely 
 you will let him attempt to renew them ? 'Tis but taking 
 a walk backwards ; and though it is very early in life for 
 Mr. Arnott to covet that retrogade motion, which, in the 
 regular course of things, we shall all in our turns sigh for, 
 yet with such a motive as recovering Miss Beverley for a 
 playfellow, who can wonder that he anticipates in youth 
 the hopeless wishes of age ? " 
 
 Here Miss Larolles, who was one of that numerous tribe 
 of young ladies to whom all conversation is irksome in 
 which they are not themselves engaged, quitted her place, 
 of which Mr. Gosport, Cecilia's new acquaintance, imme- 
 diately took possession. 
 
 "Is it utterly impossible," continued this gentleman, 
 " that I should assist in procuring Mr. Arnott such a reno-
 
 CECILIA. 23 
 
 vation ? Is there no subaltern part I can perform to 
 facilitate the project ? for I will either hide or seek with 
 any boy in the parish ; and for a Q in the corner, there is 
 none more celebrated." 
 
 " I have no doubt, sir," answered Cecilia, " of your ac- 
 complishments ; and I should be not a little entertained 
 with the surprise of the company, if you could persuade 
 yourself to display them." 
 
 "And what," cried he, "could the company do half so 
 well as to arise also, and join in the sport ? it would but 
 interrupt some tale of scandal, or some description of a 
 totipee. 1 Active wit, however despicable when compared 
 with intellectual, is yet surely better than the insignificant 
 click-clack of modish conversation," casting his eyes to- 
 wards Miss Larolles, " or even the pensive dullness of 
 affected silence," changing their direction towards Miss 
 Leeson. 
 
 Cecilia, though surprised at an attack upon the society 
 her friend had selected, by one who was admitted to make 
 a part of it, felt its justice too strongly to be offended at 
 its severity. 
 
 " I have often wished," he continued, " that when large 
 parties are collected, as here, without any possible reason 
 why they might not as well be separated, something could 
 be proposed in which each person might innocently take a 
 share : for surely after the first half hour, they can find 
 little new to observe in the dress of their neighbours, or to 
 display in their own ; and with whatever seeming gaiety 
 they may contrive to fill up the middle and end of the 
 evening, by wire-drawing the comments afforded by the 
 beginning, they are yet so miserably fatigued, that if they 
 have not four or five places to run to every night, they 
 suffer nearly as much from weariness of their friends in 
 company, as they would do from weariness of themselves 
 in solitude." 
 
 1 " Toupet " (corrupted to toiipfe), means literally a tuft of hair above 
 the forehead. It was applied to a fashion of combing the hair, which 
 was stiffened by powder and pomatum, straight up from the forehead. 
 Wigs were made in this way. Miss Burney says of Prince Orloff : 
 " The door was barely high enough not to discompose his prodigious 
 toupee."
 
 24 CECILIA. 
 
 Here, by the general breaking up of the party, the con- 
 versation was interrupted, and Mr. Gosport was obliged to 
 make his exit ; not much to the regret of Cecilia, who was 
 impatient to be alone with Mrs. Harrel. 
 
 The rest of the evening, therefore, was spent much more 
 to her satisfaction ; it was devoted to friendship, to mutual 
 enquiries, to kind congratulations, and endearing recollec- 
 tions ; and though it was late when she retired, she retired 
 with reluctance. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A SKETCH OF HIGH LIFE. 
 
 AGER to renew a conversation which had afforded her 
 so much pleasure, Cecilia, neither sensible of fatigue 
 from her change of hours nor her journey, arose with the 
 light, and as soon as she was dressed, hastened to the 
 breakfast apartment. 
 
 She had not, however, been more impatient to enter 
 than she soon became to quit it ; for though not much 
 surprised to find herself there before her friend, her ardour 
 for waiting her arrival was somewhat chilled, upon finding 
 the fire but just lighted, the room cold, and the servants 
 still employed in putting it in order. 
 
 At ten o'clock she made another attempt ; the room was 
 then better prepared for her reception, but still it was 
 empty. Again she was retiring, when the appearance of 
 Mr. Arnott stopt her. 
 
 He expressed his surprise at her early rising, in a 
 manner that marked the pleasure it gave to him; and 
 then, returning to the conversation of the preceding 
 evening, he expatiated with warmth and feeling upon the 
 happiness of his boyish days, remembered every circum- 
 stance belonging to the plays in which they had formerly 
 been companions, and dwelt upon every incident with a 
 minuteness of delight that showed his unwillingness ever 
 to have done with the subject. 
 
 This discourse detained her till they were joined by
 
 CECILIA. 25 
 
 Mrs Harrel, and then another, more gay and more general, 
 succeeded to it. 
 
 During their breakfast, Miss Larolles was announced as 
 a visitor to Cecilia, to whom she immediately advanced 
 with the intimacy of an old acquaintance, taking her hand, 
 and assuring her she could no longer defer the honour of 
 waiting upon her. 
 
 Cecilia, much amazed at this warmth of civility from 
 one to whom she was almost a stranger, received her com- 
 pliment rather coldly; but Miss Larolles, without con- 
 sulting her looks, or attending to her manner, proceeded to 
 express the earnest desire she had long had to be known to 
 her ; to hope they should meet very often ; to declare 
 nothing could make her so happy ; and to beg leave to 
 recommend to her notice her own milliner. 
 
 " I assure you," she continued, " she has all Paris in 
 her disposal ; the sweetest caps ! 1 the most beautiful 
 trimmings ! and her ribbons are quite divine ! It is the 
 most dangerous thing you can conceive to go near her ; I 
 never trust myself in her room but I am sure to be ruined. 
 If you please, I'll take you to her this morning." 
 
 " If her acquaintance is so ruinous," said Cecilia, " I 
 think I had better avoid it." 
 
 " impossible ! there's no such thing as living without 
 her. To be sure she's shockingly dear, that I must own ; 
 but then who can wonder ? She makes such sweet things, 
 'tis impossible to pay her too much for them." 
 
 Mrs. Harrel now joining in the recommendation, the 
 party was agreed upon, and accompanied by Mr. Arnott, 
 the ladies proceeded to the house of the milliner. 
 
 Here the raptures of Miss Larolles were again excited : 
 she viewed the finery displayed with delight inexpressible, 
 enquired who were the intended possessors, heard their 
 names with envy, and sighed with all the bitterness of 
 
 1 No woman, young or old, married or unmarried, was then seen 
 without a cap. Dr. Johnson had, perhaps, never seen a lady without a 
 cap, however flimsy, until he went to the Highlands. He writes to 
 Mrs. Thrale from " Side" in 1773 : " The ladies all, except the eldest, 
 are in the morning dressed in their hair. The true Highlander never 
 wears more than a riband on her head till she is married." 
 
 "Iran down without my cap. She" (the Queen) "smiled at sight 
 of my hasty attire " Diary of Me D'Arblay, 1786.
 
 26 CECILIA. 
 
 mortification that she was unable to order home almost 
 every thing she looked at. 
 
 Having finished their business here, they proceeded to 
 various other dress manufacturers, in whose praises Miss 
 Larolles was almost equally eloquent, and to appropriate 
 whose goods she was almost equally earnest : and then, 
 after attending this loquacious young lady to her father's 
 house, Mrs. Harrel and Cecilia returned to their own. 
 
 Cecilia rejoiced at the separation, and congratulated her- 
 self that the rest of the day might be spent alone with her 
 friend. 
 
 " Why no," said Mrs. Harrel, " not absolutely alone, for 
 I expect some company at night." 
 
 " Company again to-night ?" 
 
 " Nay, don't be frightened, for it will be a very small 
 party ; not more than fifteen or twenty in all." 
 
 " Is that so small a party ? " said Cecilia, smiling ; " and 
 how short a time since would you, as well as I, have 
 reckoned it a large one ! " 
 
 " O, you mean when I lived in the country," returned 
 Mrs. Harrel ; " but what in the world could I know of 
 parties or company then ? " 
 
 "Not much, indeed," said Cecilia, "as my present 
 ignorance shows." 
 
 They then parted to dress for dinner. 
 
 The company of this evening were again all strangers to 
 Cecilia, except Miss Leeson, who was seated next to her, 
 and whose frigid looks again compelled her to observe the 
 same silence she so resolutely practised herself. Yet not 
 the less was her internal surprise, that a lady who seemed 
 determined neither to give nor receive any entertainment, 
 should repeatedly choose to show herself in a company, 
 with no part of which she associated. 
 
 Mr. Arnott, who contrived to occupy the seat on her 
 other side, suffered not the silence with which her fair 
 neighbour had infected her to spread any further. He 
 talked, indeed, upon no new subject ; and upon the old 
 one, of their former sports and amusements, he had already 
 exhausted all that was worth being mentioned; but not 
 yet had he exhausted the pleasure he received from the 
 theme ; it seemed always fresh and always enchanting to
 
 CECILIA. 27 
 
 him ; it employed his thoughts, regaled his imagination, 
 and enlivened his discourse. Cecilia in vain tried to change 
 it for another ; he quitted it only by compulsion, and re- 
 turned to it with redoubled eagerness. 
 
 When the company was retired, and Mr. Arnott only 
 remained with the ladies, Cecilia, with no little surprise, 
 enquired for Mr. Harrel, observing that she had not seen 
 him the whole day. 
 
 " 0," cried his lady, " don't think of wondering at that, 
 for it happens continually. He dines at home, indeed, in 
 general, but otherwise I should see nothing of him at all." 
 
 " Indeed ! why how does he fill up his time ? " 
 
 " That I am sure I cannot tell, for he never consults me 
 about it ; but I suppose much in the same way that other 
 people do." 
 
 " Ah, Priscilla ! " cried Cecilia, with some earnestness, 
 " how little did I ever expect to see you so much a fine 
 lady ! " 
 
 " A fine lady ? " repeated Mrs. Harrel ; " why what is it 
 I do ? don't I live exactly like everybody else that mixes 
 at all with the world ? " 
 
 " You, Miss Beverley," said Mr. Arnott, in a low voice, 
 " will, I hope, give to the world an example, not take one 
 from it." 
 
 Soon after, they separated for the night. 
 
 The next morning, Cecilia took care to fill up her time 
 more advantageously, than in wandering about the house 
 in search of a companion she now expected not to find : 
 she got together her books, arranged them to her fancy, 
 and secured to herself, for the future occupation of her 
 leisure hours, the exhaustless fund of entertainment which 
 reading, that richest, highest, and noblest source of intel- 
 lectual enjoyment, perpetually affords. 
 
 While they were yet at breakfast, they were again visited 
 by Miss Larolles. " I am come," cried she, eagerly, " to 
 run away with you both to my Lord Belgrade's sale. All 
 the world will be there ; and we shall go in with tickets, 
 and you have no notion how it will be crowded." 
 
 " What is to be sold there ? " said Cecilia. 
 
 " O, every thing you can conceive ; house, stables, china, 
 laces, horses, caps, every thing in the world."
 
 28 CECILIA. 
 
 " And do you intend to buy anything ? " 
 " Lord, no ; but one likes to see the people's things." 
 Cecilia then begged they would excuse her attendance. 
 " 0, by no means," cried Miss Larolles, "you must go, 
 I assure you ; there'll be such a monstrous crowd as you 
 never saw in your life. I dare say we shall be half squeezed 
 to death." 
 
 " That," said Cecilia, "is an inducement which you must 
 not expect will have much weight with a poor rustic just 
 out of the country : it must require all the polish of a long 
 residence in the metropolis to make it attractive." 
 
 " O, but do go, for I assure you it will be the best sale we 
 shall have this season. I can't imagine, Mrs. Harrel, what 
 poor Lady Belgrade will do with herself; I hear the creditors 
 have seized everything ; I really believe creditors are the 
 cruelest set of people in the world ! They have taken those 
 beautiful buckles out of her shoes ! Poor soul ! I declare 
 it will make my heart ache to see them put up. It's quite 
 shocking, upon my word. I wonder who'll buy them. 1 
 assure you they were the pi'ettiest fancied I ever saw. But 
 come, if we don't go directly, there will be no getting in." 
 Cecilia again desired to be excused accompanying them, 
 adding, that she wished to spend the day at home. 
 
 " At home, my dear ? " cried Mrs. Harrel ; " why we 
 have been engaged to Mrs. Mears this month, and she 
 begged me to prevail with you to be of the party. I ex- 
 pect she'll call, or send you a ticket, every moment." 
 
 " How unlucky for me," said Cecilia, " that you should 
 happen to have so many engagements just at this time ! 
 I hope, at least, there will not be any for to-morrow." 
 " O yes ; to-morrow we go to Mrs. Elton's." 
 " Again to-morrow ? and how long is this to last ? " 
 " 0, Heaven knows ; I'll show you my catalogue." 
 She then produced a book which contained a list of 
 engagements for more than three weeks. "And as these," 
 she said, " are struck off, new ones are made ; and so it is 
 we go on till after the birth-day." 1 
 
 When this list had been examined and commented upon 
 
 1 After King George's birthday, the 4th of June, the Court left St. 
 James's Palace for Windsor, and the " ton parties " ended.
 
 CECILIA. 29 
 
 by Miss Larolles, and viewed and wondered at by Cecilia, 
 it was restored to its place, and the two ladies went to- 
 gether, to the auction, permitting Cecilia, at her repeated 
 request, to return to her own apartment. 
 
 She returned, however, neither satisfied with the be- 
 haviour of her friend, nor pleased with her own situation : 
 the sobriety of her education, as it had early instilled into 
 her mind the pure dictates of religion, and strict principles 
 of honour, had also taught her to regard continual dissipa- 
 tion as an introduction to vice, and unbounded extravagance 
 as the harbinger of injustice. Long accustomed to see Mrs. 
 Harrel in the same retirement in which she had hitherto 
 lived herself, when books were their first amusement, and 
 the society of each other was their chief happiness, the 
 change she now perceived in her mind and manners equally 
 concerned and surprised her. She found her insensible to 
 friendship, indifferent to her husband, and negligent of all 
 social felicity. Dress, company, parties of pleasure, and 
 public places, seemed not merely to occupy all her time, 
 but to gratify all her wishes. Cecilia, in whose heart 
 glowed the warmest affections and most generous virtue, 
 was cruelly depressed and mortified by this disappoint- 
 ment; yet she had the good sense to determine against 
 upbraiding her, well aware that if reproach has any power 
 over indifference, it is only that of changing it into aver- 
 sion. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, in truth, was innocent of heart, though dis- 
 sipated in life ; married very young, she had made an imme- 
 diate transition from living in a private family and a country 
 town, to becoming mistress of one of the most elegant 
 houses in Portman-square, 1 being at the head of a splendid 
 
 1 " Portman Square was begun about 1764, when the north side of 
 the square was built; but it was twenty years before the whole was 
 finished." LTSONS. 
 
 The house in the north-west angle of the square was built for Mrs. 
 Montagu. In it she had her Blue-Stocking parties. There, in 1792, 
 she showed Miss Burney " her new room, which was a double satisfac- 
 tion to me, from the elegant paintings by our ingenious Edward" 
 [Burney]. Edward Burney was a cousin of Frances, and made some 
 drawings which were exhibited in the rooms of the Royal Academy,, 
 and engraved as vignettes to an early edition of " Evelina."
 
 30 CECILIA 
 
 fortune, and wife to a man whose own pursuits soon showed 
 her the little value he himself set upon domestic happiness. 
 Immersed in the fashionable round of company and diver- 
 sions, her understanding, naturally weak, was easily dazzled 
 by the brilliancy of her situation ; greedily, therefore, suck- 
 ing in air impregnated with luxury and extravagance, she 
 had soon no pleasure but to vie with some rival in elegance, 
 and no ambition but to exceed some superior in expense. 
 
 The Dean of in naming Mr. Harrel for one of the 
 
 guardians of his niece, had no other view than that of 
 indulging her wishes by allowing her to reside in the 
 house of her friend : he had little personal knowledge of 
 him, but was satisfied with the nomination, because ac- 
 quainted with his family, fortune, and connections, all 
 which persuaded him to believe, without further enquiry, 
 that it was more peculiarly proper for his niece than any 
 other he could make. 
 
 In his choice of the other two trustees he had been more 
 prudent ; the first of these, the honourable Mr. Delvile, 
 was a man of high birth and character ; the second, Mr. 
 Briggs, had spent his whole life in business, in which he 
 had already amassed an immense fortune, and had still no 
 greater pleasure than that of increasing it. From the honour, 
 therefore, of Mr. Delvile, he expected the most scrupulous 
 watchfulness that his niece should in nothing be injured, 
 and from the experience of Mr. Briggs in money matters, 
 and his diligence in ti-ansacting business, he hoped for the 
 most vigilant observance that her fortune, while under his 
 care, should be turned to the best account. And thus, as 
 far as he was able, he had equally consulted her pleasure, 
 her security, and her pecuniary advantage. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel returned home only in time to dress for the 
 rest of the day. 
 
 When Cecilia was summoned to dinner, she found, besides 
 her host and hostess and Mr. Arnott, a gentleman she had 
 not before seen, but who as soon as she entered the parlour, 
 Mr. Harrel presented to her, saying at the same time he 
 was one of the most intimate of his friends. 
 
 This gentleman, Sir Robert Floyer, was about thirty 
 years of age ; his face was neither remarkable for its beauty 
 nor its ugliness, but sufficiently distinguished by its expres-
 
 CECILIA 31 
 
 sion of invincible assurance; his person, too, though neither 
 striking for its grace nor its deformity, attracted notice from 
 the insolence of his deportment. His manners, haughty 
 and supercilious, marked the high opinion he cherished of 
 his own importance ; and his air and address, at once bold 
 and negligent, announced his happy perfection in the cha- 
 racter at which he aimed, that of an accomplished man of 
 the town. 
 
 The moment Cecilia appeared, she became the object of 
 his attention, though neither with the look of admiration 
 due to her beauty, nor yet with that of curiosity excited by 
 her novelty, but with the scrutinizing observation of a man 
 on the point of making a bargain, who views with fault- 
 seeking eyes the property he means to cheapen. 
 
 Cecilia, wholly unused to an examination so little cere- 
 monious, shrunk abashed from his regards : but his con- 
 versation was not less displeasing to her than his looks ; his 
 principal subjects, which were horse-racing, losses at play, 
 and disputes at gaming-tables, could afford her but little t 
 amusement, because she could not understand them ; and 
 the episodes with which they were occasionally interspersed, 
 consisting chiefly of comparative strictures upon celebrated 
 beauties, hints of impending bankruptcies, and witticisms 
 upon recent divorces, were yet more disagreeable to her, 
 because more intelligible. Wearied, therefore, with unin- 
 teresting anecdotes, and offended with injudicious subjects 
 of pleasantry, she waited with impatience for the moment 
 of retiring ; but Mrs. Harrel, less eager, because better 
 entertained, was in no haste to remove, and therefore she 
 was compelled to remain quiet, till they were both obliged 
 to arise, in order to fulfil their engagement with Mrs.Mears. 
 
 As they went together to the house of that lady, in Mrs. 
 Harrel's vis-a-vis, Cecilia, not doubting but their opinions 
 concerning the Baronet would accord, instantly and openly 
 declared her disapprobation of everything he had uttered ; 
 but Mrs. Harrel, far from confirming her expectations, 
 only said, " I am sorry you don't like him, for he is almost 
 always with us." 
 
 " Do you like him, then, yourself ? " 
 
 " Extremely ; he is very entertaining and clever, and 
 knows the world."
 
 32 CECILIA. 
 
 " How judiciously do you praise him ! " cried Cecilia ; 
 " and how long might you deliberate before you could add 
 another word to his panegyric ! " 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, satisfied to commend, without even attempt- 
 ing to vindicate him, was soon content to change the sub- 
 ject ; and Cecilia, though much concerned that the husband 
 of her friend had made so disgraceful an election of a 
 favourite, yet hoped that the lenity of Mrs. Harrel resulted 
 from her desire to excuse his choice, not from her own 
 approbation. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN ASSEMBLY. 
 
 MRS. MEARS, whose character was of that common 
 sort which renders delineation superfluous, received 
 them with the customary forms of good breeding. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel soon engaged herself at a card-table : and 
 Cecilia, who declined playing, was seated next to Miss 
 Leeson, who arose to return the courtesy she made in 
 advancing to her, but that past, did not again even look at 
 her. 
 
 Cecilia, though fond of conversation and formed for 
 society, was too diffident to attempt speaking where so 
 little encouraged ; they both, therefore, continued silent, 
 till Sir Robert Floyer, Mr. Harrel, and Mr. Arnott entered 
 the room together, and all at the same time advanced to 
 Cecilia. 
 
 "What," cried Mr. Harrel, "don't you choose to play, 
 Miss Beverley ? " 
 
 " I flatter myself," cried Mr. Arnott, " that Miss Bever- 
 ley never plays at all, for then, in one thing, I shall have 
 the honour to resemble her." 
 
 "Very seldom, indeed," answered Cecilia, "and conse- 
 quently very ill." 
 
 " O, you must take a few lessons," said Mr. Harrel, "Sir 
 Robert Floyer, I am sure, will be proud to instruct you." 
 
 Sir Robert, who had placed himself opposite to her, and 
 was staring full in her face, made a slight inclination of 
 his head, and said, " Certainly."
 
 CECILIA. 33 
 
 " I should be a very unpromising pupil," returned Cecilia, 
 " for I fear I should not only want diligence to improve, 
 but desire." 
 
 "O, you will learn better things," said Mr. Harrel; "we 
 have had you yet but three days amongst us in three 
 months we shall see the difference." 
 
 " I hope not," cried Mr. Arnott, " I earnestly hope 
 there will be none ! " 
 
 Mr. Harrel now joined another party ; and Mr. Arnott 
 Seeing no seat vacant near that of Cecilia, moved round to 
 the back of her chair, where he patiently stood for the 
 rest of the evening. But Sir Robert still kept his post, 
 and still, without troubling himself to speak, kept his eyes 
 fixed upon the same object. 
 
 Cecilia, offended by his boldness, looked a thousand ways 
 to avoid him ; but her embarrassment, by giving greater 
 play to her features, served only to keep awake an atten- 
 tion which might otherwise have wearied. She was almost 
 tempted to move her chair round and face Mr. Arnott, but 
 though she wished to show her disapprobation of the 
 Baronet, she had not yet been reconciled by fashion to 
 turning her back upon the company at large, for the in- 
 dulgence of conversing with some particular person ; a 
 fashion which to unaccustomed observers seems rude and 
 repulsive, but which, when once adopted, carries with it 
 imperceptibly its own recommendation, in the ease, con- 
 venience, and freedom which it promotes. 
 
 Thus disagreeably stationed, she found but little assis- 
 tance from the neighbourhood of Mr. Arnott, since even his 
 own desire of conversing with her, was swallowed up by 
 an anxious and involuntary impulse to watch the looks and 
 motions of Sir Robert. 
 
 At length, quite tired of sitting as if merely an object 
 to be gazed at, she determined to attempt entering into 
 conversation with Miss Leeson. 
 
 The difficulty, however, was not inconsiderable how, to 
 make the attack ; she was unacquainted with her friends 
 and connections, uninformed of her way of thinking, or 
 her way of life, ignorant even of the sound of her voice, 
 and chilled by the coldness of her aspect : yet, having no 
 other alternative, she was more willing to encounter the 
 
 D
 
 34 CECILIA. 
 
 forbidding looks of this lady, than to continue silently 
 abashed under the scrutinizing eyes of Sir Robert. 
 
 After much deliberation with what subject to begin, she 
 remembered that Miss Larolles had been present the first 
 time they had met, and thought it probable they might be 
 acquainted with each other; and, therefore, bending forward, 
 she ventured to inquire if she had lately seen that young lady ? 
 
 Miss Leeson, in a voice alike inexpressive of satisfaction 
 or displeasure, quietly answered, " No, ma'am." 
 
 Cecilia, discouraged by this conciseness, was a few 
 minutes silent; but the perseverance of Sir Robert in 
 staring at her, exciting her own in trying to avoid his 
 eyes, she exerted herself so far as to add, " Does Mrs. 
 Mears expect Miss Larolles here this evening ?" 
 
 Miss Lesson, without raising her head, gravely replied, 
 " I don't know, ma'am." 
 
 All was now to be done over again, and a new subject to 
 be started, for she could suggest nothing further to ask 
 concerning Miss Larolles. 
 
 Cecilia had seen little of life, but that little she had 
 well marked, and her observation had taught her, that 
 among fashionable people, public places seemed a never- 
 failing source of conversation and entertainment : upon 
 this topic, therefore, she hoped for better success ; and as 
 to those who have spent more time in the country than in 
 London no place of amusement is so interesting as a 
 theatre, she opened the subject she had so happily suggested, 
 by an enquiry whether any new play had lately come out ? 
 
 Miss Leeson, with the same dryness, only answered, 
 " Indeed, I can't tell." 
 
 Another pause now followed, and the spirits of Cecilia 
 were considerably dampt ; but happening accidentally to 
 recollect the name of Almack, 1 she presently revived, and 
 
 1 Almack's (or Willis's Rooms) in King Street, St. James's, were 
 opened in 1765 by a Scotchman, who kept the Thatched House Tavern 
 in St. James's Street. 
 
 " There is now opened at Almack's, in three very elegant new-built 
 rooms, a ten guinea subscription, for which you have a ball and a 
 
 supper once a week for twelve weeks Almack's Scotch 
 
 face, in a bag-wig, waiting at supper would divert you, as would his 
 lady, in a sack, making tea and curtseying to the duchesses." Gilly 
 Williams to George Selwyn, 1765.
 
 CECILIA. 35 
 
 congratulating herself that she should now be able to speak 
 of a place too fashionable for disdain, she asked her, in a 
 manner somewhat more assured, if she was a subscriber to 
 his assemblies ? 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " Do you go to them constantly ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 Again they were both silent. And now, tired of finding 
 the ill success of each particular enquiry, she thought a 
 more general one might obtain an answer less laconic, and 
 therefore begged she would inform her what was the most 
 fashionable place of diversion for the present season ? 
 
 This question, however, cost Miss Leeson no more 
 trouble than any which had preceded it, for she only re- 
 plied, " Indeed, I don't know." 
 
 Cecilia now began to sicken of her attempt, and for 
 some minutes to give it up as hopeless ; but afterwards, 
 when she reflected how frivolous were the questions she 
 had asked, she felt more inclined to pardon the answers 
 she had received, and in a short time to fancy she had 
 mistaken contempt for stupidity, and to grow less angry 
 with Miss Leeson than ashamed of herself. 
 
 This supposition excited her to make yet another trial of 
 her talents for conversation ; and therefore, summoning all 
 the courage in her power, she modestly apologized for the 
 liberty she was taking, and then begged her permission to 
 enquire whether there was anything new in the literary 
 way that she thought worth recommending ? 
 
 Miss Leeson now turned her eyes towards her, with a 
 look that implied a doubt whether she had heard aright ; 
 and when the attentive attitude of Cecilia confirmed her 
 question, surprise for a few instants took place of insensi- 
 bility, and with rather more spirit than she had yet shown, 
 she answered, " Indeed, I know nothing of the matter." 
 
 Cecilia was now utterly disconcerted ; and half angry 
 with herself, and wholly provoked with her sullen neigh- 
 bour, she resolved to let nothing in future provoke her to 
 a similar trial with so unpromising a subject. 
 
 She had not, however, much longer to endure the exami- 
 nation of Sir Robert, who being pretty well satisfied with 
 staring, turned upon his heel, and was striding out of the
 
 36 CECILIA. 
 
 room, when he was stopt by Mr. Gosport, who for some 
 time had been watching him. 
 
 Mr. Gosport was a man of good parts, and keen satire ; 
 minute in his observations, and ironical in his expressions. 
 
 " So you don't play, Sir Robert ?" he cried. 
 
 " What here ? No, I am going to Brookes's." 
 
 " But how do you like Barrel's ward ? You have taken 
 a pretty good survey of her." 
 
 " Why, faith, I don't know ; but not much, I think ; 
 she's a devilish fine woman too ; but she has no spirit, 
 no life." 
 
 " Did you try her ? Have you talked to her ? " 
 
 " Not I, truly ! " 
 
 " Nay, then, how do you mean to judge of her ? " 
 
 " O, faith, that's all over now ; one never thinks of 
 talking to the women by way of trying them." 
 
 " What other method, then, have you adopted ? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 " None ? Why then how do you go on ? " 
 
 " Why they talk to us. The women take all that trouble 
 upon themselves now." 
 
 " And pray how long may you have commenced fade 
 macaroni ? for this is a part of your character with which 
 I was not acquainted." 
 
 " 0, hang it, 'tis not from ton ; no, it's merely from 
 laziness. Who the d 1 will fatigue himself with dancing 
 attendance upon the women, when keeping them at a 
 distance makes them dance attendance upon us ? " 
 
 Then, stalking from him to Mr. Harrel, he took him by 
 the arm, and they left the room together. 
 
 Mr. Gosport now advanced to Cecilia, and addressing 
 her so as not to be heard by Miss Leeson, said, " I have 
 been wishing to approach you some time, but the fear that 
 you are already overpowered by the loquacity of your fair 
 neighbour, makes me cautious of attempting to engage 
 
 you." 
 
 "You mean," said Cecilia, "to laugh at my loquacity, 
 and indeed its ill success has rendered it sufficiently 
 ridiculous." 
 
 " Are you, then, yet to learn," cried he, "that there are 
 certain young ladies who make it a rule never to speak but
 
 CECILIA. 37 
 
 to their own cronies ? Of this class is Miss Leeson, and 
 till yon get into her particular coterie, you must never 
 expect to hear from her a word of two syllables. The TON 
 misses, as they are called, who now infest the town, are in 
 two divisions, the SUPERCILIOUS, and the VOLUBLE. The 
 SUPERCILIOUS, like Miss Leeson, are silent, scornful, languid, 
 and affected, and disdain all converse but with those of 
 their own set ; the VOLUBLE, like Miss Larolles, are flirting, 
 communicative, restless, and familiar, and attack, without 
 the smallest ceremony, every one they think worthy their 
 notice. But this they have in common, that at home they 
 think of nothing but dress, abroad, of nothing but admira- 
 tion, and that everywhere they hold in supreme contempt 
 all but themselves." 
 
 " Probably, then," said Cecilia, " I have passed, to- 
 night, for one of the VOLUBLES ; however, all the advantage 
 has been with the SUPERCILIOUS, for I. have suffered a total 
 repulse." 
 
 " Are you sure, however, you have not talked too well 
 for her ?" 
 
 " O, a child of five years old ought to have been whipt for 
 not talking better ! " 
 
 " But it is not capacity alone you are to consult when 
 you talk with misses of the TON ; were their understandings 
 only to be considered, they would indeed be wonderfully 
 easy of access ! in order, therefore, to render their com- 
 merce somewhat difficult, they will only be pleased by an 
 observance of their humours ; which are ever most various 
 and most exuberant where the intellects are weakest and 
 least cultivated. I have, however, a receipt which I have 
 found infallible for engaging the attention of young ladies, 
 of whatsoever character or denomination." 
 
 " Oh, then," cried Cecilia, " pray favour me with it, for 
 I have here an admirable opportunity to try its efficacy." 
 
 " I will give it you," he answered, "with full directions. 
 When you meet with a young lady who seems resolutely 
 determined not to speak, or who, if compelled by a direct 
 question to make some answer, drily gives a brief affirma- 
 tive, or coldly a laconic negative " 
 
 " A case in point ! " interrupted Cecilia. 
 
 " Well, thus circumstanced," he continued, " the
 
 38 CECILIA. 
 
 remedy I Lave to propose consists of three topics of dis- 
 course." 
 
 " Pray what are they ?" 
 
 " Dress, public places, and love." 
 
 Cecilia, half surprised, and half diverted, waited a fuller 
 explanation without giving any interruption. 
 
 " These three topics," he continued, " are to answer 
 three purposes, since there are no less than three causes 
 from which the silence of young ladies may proceed : 
 sorrow, affectation, and stupidity." 
 
 " Do you then," cried Cecilia, " give nothing at all to 
 modesty ? " 
 
 " I give much to it," he answered, " as an excuse, nay 
 almost as an equivalent for wit ; but for that sullen silence 
 which resists all encouragement, modesty is a mere pre- 
 tence, not a cause." 
 
 " You must, however, be somewhat more explicit, if yon 
 mean that I should benefit from your instructions." 
 
 " Well then," he answered, " I will briefly enumerate 
 the three causes, with directions for the three methods of 
 cure. To begin with sorrow. The taciturnity which 
 really results from that is attended with an incurable 
 absence of mind, and a total unconsciousness of the obser- 
 vation which it excites ; upon this occasion, public places 
 may sometimes be tried in vain, and even dress may fail ; 
 but love " 
 
 " Are you sure, then," said Cecilia, with a laugh, "that 
 sorrow has but that one source ?" 
 
 " By no means," answered he, " for perhaps papa may 
 have been angry, or mama may have been cross ; a milliner 
 may have sent a wrong pompoon, 1 or a chaperon to an 
 assembly may have been taken ill " 
 
 " Bitter subjects of affliction, indeed ! And are these all 
 you allow us ? " 
 
 " Nay, I speak but of young ladies of fashion, and what 
 of greater importance can befall them ? If, therefore, the 
 grief of the fair patient proceeds from papa, mama, or the 
 chaperon, then the mention of public places, those endless 
 incentives of displeasure between the old and the young, 
 
 1 A "pompoon" is any little ornament of dress, from the woollen 
 ball on a soldier's shako, to a lady's knot, or rosette of riband.
 
 CECILIA. 39 
 
 will draw forth her complaints, and her complaints will 
 bring their own cure, for those who lament find speedy 
 consolation. If the milliner has occasioned the calamity, 
 the discussion of dress will have the same effect ; should 
 both these medicines fail, love, as I said before, will be 
 found infallible, for you will then have investigated every 
 subject of uneasiness which a youthful female in high life 
 can experience." 
 
 " They are greatly obliged to you," cried Cecilia, bowing, 
 " for granting them motives of sorrow so honourable, and 
 I thank you in the name of the whole sex." 
 
 "You, madam," said he, returning her bow, " are I hope 
 an exception in the happiest way, that of having no sorrow 
 at all. I come, now, to the silence of affectation, which is 
 presently discernible by the roving of the eye round the 
 room to see if it is heeded, by the sedulous care to avoid 
 an accidental smile, and by the variety of disconsolate 
 attitudes exhibited to the beholders. This species of 
 silence has almost without exception its origin in that 
 babyish vanity which is always gratified by exciting atten- 
 tion, without ever perceiving that it provokes contempt. 
 In these cases, as nature is wholly out of the question, and 
 the mind is guarded against its own feelings, dress and 
 public places are almost certain of failing; but here again 
 love is sure to vanquish. As soon as it is named, attention 
 becomes involuntary, and in a short time a struggling 
 simper discomposes the arrangement of the features, and 
 then the business is presently over, for the young lady is 
 either supporting some system, or opposing some proposi- 
 tion, before she is well aware that she has been cheated out 
 of her sad silence at all." 
 
 " So much," said Cecilia, "for sorrow and for affectation. 
 Proceed next to stupidity ; for that, in all probability, I 
 shall most frequently encounter." 
 
 "That always must be heavy work," returned he, "yet 
 the road is plain, though it is all up-hill. Love, here, may 
 be talked of without exciting any emotion, or provoking 
 any reply, and dress may be dilated upon without producing 
 any other effect than that of attracting a vacant stare ; but 
 public places are indubitably certain of success. Dull and 
 heavy characters, incapable of animating from wit or from
 
 40 CECILIA. 
 
 reason, because unable to keep pace with them, and void of 
 all internal sources of entertainment, require the stimula- 
 tion of show, glare, noise, and bustle to interest or awaken 
 them. Talk to them of such subjects, and they adore you ; 
 no matter whether you paint to them joy or horror, let there 
 but be action, and they are content ; a battle has charms for 
 them equal to a coronation, and a funeral amuses them as 
 much as a wedding." 
 
 " I am much obliged to you," said Cecilia, smiling, " for 
 these instructions ; yet I must confess I know not how 
 upon the present occasion to make use of them : public 
 places I have already tried, but tried in vain ; dress I dare 
 not mention, as I have not yet learned its technical 
 terms " 
 
 " Well, but," interrupted he, " be not desperate ; you 
 have yet the third topic unessayed." 
 
 " that," returned she, laughing, " I leave to you." 
 
 " Pardon me," cried he, " love is a source of loquacity 
 only with yourselves : when it is started by men, young 
 ladies dwindle into mere listeners. Simpering listeners, I 
 confess ; but it is only with one another that you will 
 discuss its merits," 
 
 At this time they were interrupted by the approach of 
 Miss Larolles, who, tripping towards Cecilia, exclaimed, 
 " Lord, how glad I am to see you ! So you would not go to 
 the auction ? Well, you had a prodigious loss, I assure 
 you, All the wardrobe was sold, and all Lady Belgrade's 
 trinkets. I never saw such a collection of sweet things in 
 my life. I was ready to cry that I could not bid for half an 
 hundred of them. I declare I was kept in an agony the whole 
 morning. I would not but have been there for the world. 
 Poor Lady Belgrade ! you really can't conceive how I was 
 shocked for her. All her beautiful things sold for almost 
 nothing. I assure you, if you had seen how they went, you 
 would have lost all patience. It's a thousand pities you 
 were not there." 
 
 " On the contrary," said Cecilia, " I think I had a very 
 fortunate escape, for the loss of patience without the acqui- 
 sition of the trinkets, would have been rather mortifying." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Gosport ; "but when you have lived 
 some time longer in this commercial city, you will find the
 
 CECILIA. 41 
 
 exchange of patience for mortification the most common 
 and constant traffic among its inhabitants." 
 
 " Pray have you been here long ?" cried Miss Larolles, 
 " for I have been to twenty places, wondering I did not 
 meet with yon. before. But whereabouts is Mrs. Mears ? 
 O, I see her now ; I'm sure there's no mistaking her ; I 
 could know her by that old red gown half a mile off. Did 
 you ever see such a frightful thing in your life ? And it's 
 never off her back. I believe she sleeps in it. I am sure 
 I have seen her in nothing else all winter. It quite tires 
 one's eye. She's a monstrous shocking dresser. But do 
 you know, I have met with the most provoking thing in the 
 world this evening ? I declare it has made me quite sick. 
 I was never in such a passion in my life. You can conceive 
 nothing like it." 
 
 "Like what?" cried Cecilia, laughing, "your passion or 
 your provocation ? " 
 
 " Why I'll tell you wbat it was, and then you shall judge 
 if it was not quite past endurance. You must know I 
 commissioned a particular friend of mine, Miss Moffat, to 
 buy me a trimming when she went to Paris ; well, she sent 
 it me over about a month ago by Mr. Meadows, and it's the 
 sweetest thing you ever saw in your life ; but I would not 
 make it up, because there was not a creature in town, so I 
 thought to bring it out quite new in about a week's time, 
 for you know any thing does till after Christmas. Well, 
 to-night at Lady Jane Dranet's, who should I meet but 
 Miss Moffat ! She had been in town some days, but so 
 monstrously engaged, I could never find her at home. 
 Well, I was quite delighted to see her, for you must know 
 she's a prodigious favourite with me ; so I ran up to her in 
 a great hurry to shake hands, and what do you think was 
 the first thing that struck my eyes ? Why just such a 
 trimming as my own, upon a nasty odious gown, and half 
 dirty ! Can you conceive anything so distressing ? I could 
 have cried with pleasure." 
 
 "Why so?" said Cecilia. "If her trimming is dirty, 
 yours will look the more delicate." 
 
 " lord, but it's making it seem quite an old thing ! 
 half the town will get something like it. And I quite 
 ruined myself to buy it. I declare I don't think any thing
 
 42 CECILIA. 
 
 was ever half so mortifying. It distressed me so I could 
 hardly speak to her. If she had stayed a month or two 
 longer I should not have minded it, but it was the cruelest 
 thing in the world to come over just now. I wish the 
 Custom-house officers had kept all her clothes till summer." 
 
 " The wish is tender, indeed," said Cecilia, "for a, parti- 
 cular friend" 
 
 Mrs. Mears now rising from the card-table, Miss Larolles 
 tript away to pay her compliments to her. 
 
 " Here, at least," cried Cecilia, " no receipt seems requi- 
 site for the cure of silence ! I would have Miss Larolles be 
 the constant companion of Miss Leeson : they could not 
 but agree admirably, since that SUPERCILIOUS young lady 
 seems determined never to speak ; and the YOLUBLE Miss 
 Larolles never to be silent. Were each to borrow something 
 of the other, how greatly would both be the better ! " 
 
 " The composition would still be a sorry one," answered 
 Mr. Gosport, " for I believe they are equally weak, and 
 equally ignorant ; the only difference is, that one, though 
 silly, is quick, the other, though deliberate, is stupid. Upon 
 a short acquaintance, that heaviness which leaves to others 
 the whole weight of discourse, and whole search of enter- 
 tainment, is the most fatiguing, but, upon a longer intimacy, 
 even that is less irksome and less offensive, than the flip- 
 pancy which hears nothing but itself." 
 
 Mrs. Harrel arose now to depart, and Cecilia, not more 
 tired of the beginning of the evening than entertained with 
 its conclusion, was handed to the carriage by Mr. Arnott. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A BREAKFAST. 
 
 THE next morning, during breakfast, a servant ac- 
 quainted Cecilia that a young gentleman was in the 
 hall, who begged to speak with her. She desired he might 
 be admitted ; and Mrs. Harrel, laughing, asked if she ought 
 not to quit the room ; while Mr. Arnott, with even more
 
 CECILIA. 43 
 
 than his usual gravity, directed his eye towards the door to 
 watch who should enter. 
 
 Neither of them, however, received any satisfaction when 
 it was opened, for the gentleman who made his appearance 
 was unknown to both ; but great was the amazement of 
 Cecilia, though little her emotion, when she saw Mr. 
 Morrice ! 
 
 He came forward with an air of the most profound 
 respect for the company in general, and obsequiously ad- 
 vancing to Cecilia, made an earnest enquiry into her health 
 after her journey, and hoped she had heard good news from 
 her friends in the country. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, naturally concluding both from his visit and 
 behaviour, that he was an acquaintance of some intimacy, 
 very civilly offered him a seat and some breakfast, which, 
 very frankly, he accepted. But Mr. Arnott, who already 
 felt the anxiety of a rising passion which was too full of 
 veneration to be sanguine, looked at him with uneasiness, 
 and waited his departure with impatience. 
 
 Cecilia began to imagine he had been commissioned to 
 call upon her with some message from Mr. Monckton : for 
 she knew not how to suppose that merely and accidentally 
 having spent an hour or two in the same room with her, 
 would authorize a visiting acquaintance. Mr. Morrice, 
 however, had a facility the most happy of reconciling his 
 pretensions to his inclination ; and therefore she soon found 
 that the apology she had suggested appeared to him unne- 
 cessary. To lead, however, to the subject from which she 
 expected his excuse, she enquired how long he had left 
 Suffolk ? 
 
 " But yesterday noon, ma'am," he answered, " or I 
 should certainly have taken the liberty to wait upon you 
 before." 
 
 Cecilia, who had only been perplexing herself to devise 
 some reason why he came at all, now looked at him with a 
 grave surprise, which would totally have abashed a man 
 whose courage had been less, or whose expectations had 
 been greater ; but Mr. Morrice, though he hazarded every 
 danger upon the slightest chance of hope, knew too well 
 the weakness of his claims to be confident of success, and 
 had been too familiar with rebuffs to be much hurt by re-
 
 44 CECILIA. 
 
 ceiving them. He might possibly have something to gain, 
 but he knew he had nothing to lose. 
 
 " I had the pleasure," he continued, " to leave all our 
 friends well, except poor Lady Margaret, and she has had 
 an attack of the asthma ; yet she would not have a phy- 
 sician, though Mr. Monckton would fain have persuaded 
 her : however, I believe the old lady knows better things." 
 And he looked archly at Cecilia : but perceiving that the 
 insinuation gave her nothing but disgust, he changed his 
 tone, and added, " It is amazing how well they live to- 
 gether; nobody would imagine the disparity in their years. 
 Poor old lady ! Mr. Monckton will really have a great loss 
 of her when she dies." 
 
 "A loss of her ! " repeated Mrs. Harrel ; " I am sure she 
 is an exceeding ill-natured old woman. When I lived at 
 Bury, I was always frightened out of my wits at the sight 
 of her." 
 
 " Why, indeed, ma'am," said Morrice, " I must own her 
 appearance is rather against her : I had myself a great 
 aversion to her at first sight. But the house is cheerful 
 very cheerful ; I like to spend a few days there now and 
 then of all things. Miss Bennet, too, is agreeable enough, 
 and" 
 
 " Miss Bennet agreeable ! " cried Mrs. Harrel ; " I think 
 she's the most odious creature I ever knew in my life ; a 
 nasty, spiteful old maid ! " 
 
 " Why indeed, ma'am, as you say," answered Morrice, 
 " she is not very young ; and as to her temper, I confess I 
 know very little about it ; and Mr. Monckton is likely 
 enough to try it, for he is pretty severe." 
 
 " Mr. Monckton," cried Cecilia, extremely provoked at 
 hearing him censured by a man she thought highly ho- 
 noured in being permitted to approach him, " whenever I 
 have been his guest, has merited from me nothing but 
 praise and gratitude." 
 
 " O," cried Morrice eagerly, " there is not a more worthy 
 man in the world ! he has so much wit, so much politeness ! 
 I don't know a more charming man any where than 'my 
 friend Mr. Monckton." 
 
 Cecilia now perceiving that the opinions of her new ac- 
 quaintance were as pliant as his bows, determined to pay
 
 CECILIA. 45 
 
 him no further attention, and hoped by sitting silent to 
 force from him the business of his visit, if any he had, or if, 
 as she now suspected, he had none, to weary him into a retreat. 
 
 But this plan, though it would have succeeded with her- 
 self, failed with Mr. Morrice, who to a stock of good-humour 
 that made him always ready to oblige others, added an equal 
 portion of insensibility that hardened him against all indig- 
 nity. Finding, therefore, that Cecilia, to whom his visit 
 was intended, seemed already satisfied with its length, he 
 prudently forbore to torment her ; but perceiving that the 
 lady of the house was more accessible, he quickly made a 
 transfer of his attention, and addressed his discourse to her 
 with as much pleasure as if his only view had been to see 
 her, and as much ease as if he had known her all his life. 
 
 With Mrs. Harrel this conduct was not injudicious ; she 
 was pleased with his assiduity, amused with his vivacity, 
 and sufficiently satisfied with his understanding. They 
 conversed, therefore, upon pretty equal terms, and neither 
 of them were yet tired, when they were interrupted by Mr. 
 Harrel, who came into the room to ask if they had seen or 
 heard any thing of Sir Robert Floyer ? 
 
 " No," answered Mrs. Harrel, " nothing at all." 
 
 " I wish he was hanged," returned he, " for he has kept 
 me waiting this hour. He made me promise not to ride out 
 till he called, and now he'll stay till the morning is over." 
 
 " Pray where does he live, sir ? " cried Morrice, starting 
 from his seat. 
 
 " In Cavendish- square, sir," answered Mr. Harrel, look- 
 ing at him with much surprise. 
 
 Not a word more said Morrice, but scampered out of the 
 room. 
 
 " Pray who is this genius ? " cried Mr. Harrel, " and 
 what has he run away for ? " 
 
 " Upon my word I know nothing at all of him," said 
 Mrs. Harrel ; " he is a visitor of Miss Beverley's." 
 
 " And I, too," said Cecilia, " might almost equally dis- 
 claim all knowledge of him; for though I once saw, I never 
 was introduced to him." 
 
 She then began a relation of her meeting him at Mr. 
 Monckton's house, and had hardly concluded it, before again 
 and quite out of breath, he made his appearance.
 
 46 CECILIA. 
 
 " Sir Robert Floyer, sir," said he to Mr. Harrel, " will 
 be here in two minutes." 
 
 " I hope, sir," said Mr. Harrel, " you have not given 
 yourself the trouble of going to him ? " 
 
 " No, sir, it has given me nothing but pleasure ; a run 
 these cold mornings is the thing I like best." 
 
 " Sir, you are extremely good," said Mr. Harrel, " but I 
 had not the least intention of your taking such a walk upon 
 my account." 
 
 He then begged him to be seated, to rest himself, and to 
 take some refreshment ; which civilities he received without 
 scruple. 
 
 " But, Miss Beverley," said Mr. Harrel, turning to Cecilia^ 
 " you don't tell me what you think of my friend." 
 
 " What friend, sir ? " 
 
 " Why, Sir Robert Floyer ; I observed he never quitted 
 you a moment while he stayed at Mrs. Mears's." 
 
 " His stay, however, was too short," said Cecilia, " to 
 allow me to form a fair opinion of him." 
 
 " But, perhaps," cried Morrice, "it was long enough to 
 allow you to form a foul one." 
 
 Cecilia could not forbear laughing to hear the truth 
 thus accidentally blundered out ; but Mr. Harrel, looking 
 very little pleased, said, " Surely you can find no fault 
 with him ; he is one of the most fashionable men I know." 
 
 " My finding fault with him, then," said Cecilia, " will 
 only further prove what I believe is already pretty evident, 
 that I am yet a novice in the art of admiration." 
 
 Mr. Arnott, animating at this speech, glided behind her 
 chair, and said, " I knew you could not like him ! I knew 
 it from the turn of your mind ; I knew it even from your 
 countenance ! " 
 
 Soon after, Sir Robert Floyer arrived. 
 
 "You are a pretty fellow, a'n't you," cried Mr. Harrel, 
 " to keep me waiting so long ? " 
 
 " I could not come a moment sooner ; I hardly expected 
 to get here at all, for my horse has been so confounded resty, 
 I could not tell how to get him along." 
 
 " Do you come on horseback through the streets, Sir 
 Robert H " asked Mrs. Harrel. 
 
 " Sometimes ; when I am lazy. But what the d 1 is
 
 CECILIA. 47 
 
 the matter with him I don't know; he has started at every- 
 thing. I suspect there has been some foul play with him." 
 
 "Is he at the door, sir ? " cried Morrice. 
 
 " Yes," answered Sir Robert. 
 
 " Then I'll tell you what's the matter with him in a 
 minute ; " and away again ran Morrice. 
 
 " What time did you get off last night, Harrel ? " said 
 Sir Robert. 
 
 " Not very early ; but you were too much engaged to 
 miss me. By the way," lowering his voice, " what do you 
 think I lost ? " 
 
 " I can't tell, indeed, but I know what I gained; I have 
 not had such a run of luck this winter." 
 
 They then went up to a window to carry on their enquiries 
 more privately. 
 
 At the words what do you think I lost, Cecilia, half start- 
 ing, cast her eyes uneasily upon Mrs. Harrel, but perceived 
 not the least change in her countenance. Mr. Arnott, 
 however, seemed as little pleased as herself, and from a 
 similar sensation looked anxiously at his sister. 
 
 Morrice now returning, called out, " He's had a fall, I 
 assure you ! " 
 
 " Curse him ! " cried Sir Robert, "what shall I do now? 
 He cost me the d 1 and all of money, and I have not had 
 him a twelvemonth. Can you lend me a horse for this 
 morning, Harrel ? " 
 
 " No, I have not one that will do for you. You must 
 send to Astley." l 
 
 " Who can I send ? John must take care of this." 
 
 " I'll go, sir," cried Morrice, "if you'll give me the com- 
 mission." 
 
 " By no means, sir," said Sir Robert, " I can't think of 
 your having such an office." 
 
 "It is the thing in the world I like best," answered he ; 
 "I understand horses, and had rather go to Astley 's than 
 any where." 
 
 The matter was now settled in a few minutes, and having 
 
 1 Philip Astley, born in 1742, was a light horseman in the 15th, or 
 General Elliott's, Regiment. In 1774, he began a riding-school in the 
 Westminster Bridge Road, which in 1780 was turned into a covered am- 
 phitheatre.
 
 48 CECILIA. 
 
 received his directions, and an invitatation to dinner, Mor- 
 rice danced off, with, a heart yet lighter than his heels. 
 
 " Why, Miss Beverley," said Mr. Harrel, " this friend of 
 yours is the most obliging gentleman I ever met with ; 
 there was no avoiding asking him to dinner." 
 
 " Remember, however," said Cecilia, who was involun- 
 tarily diverted at the successful officiousness of her new 
 acquaintance, " that if you receive him henceforth as your 
 guest, he obtains admission through his own merits, and 
 not through my interest." 
 
 At dinner, Morrice, who failed not to accept the invita- 
 tion of Mr. Harrel, was the gayest, and indeed the happiest 
 man in the company : the effort he had made to fasten 
 himself upon Cecilia as an acquaintance, had not, it is 
 true, from herself met with much encouragement ; but he 
 knew the chances were against him when he made the trial, 
 and therefore the prospect of gaining admission into such 
 a house as Mr. Barrel's, was not only sufficient to make 
 amends for what scarcely amounted to a disappointment, 
 but a subject of serious comfort from the credit of the con- 
 nection, and of internal exultation at his own management 
 and address. 
 
 In the evening, the ladies, as usual, went to a private 
 assembly, and, as usual, were attended to it by Mr. Arnott. 
 The other gentlemen had engagements elsewhere. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A PROJECT. 
 
 O EVERAL days passed on nearly in the same manner ; 
 v -^ the mornings were all spent in gossipping, shopping, 
 and dressing, and the evenings were regularly appropriated 
 to public places, or large parties of company. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Arnott lived almost entirely in Portman- 
 square ; he slept, indeed, at his own lodgings, but he 
 boarded wholly with Mr. Harrel, whose house he never for 
 a moment quitted till night, except to attend Cecilia and 
 his sister in their visitings and rambles.
 
 CECILIA. 49 
 
 Mr. Arnott was a young man of unexceptionable cha- 
 racter, and of a disposition mild, serious, and benignant : 
 his principles and blameless conduct obtained the universal 
 esteem of the world, but his manners, which were rather 
 too precise, joined to an uncommon gravity of countenance 
 and demeanour, made his society rather permitted as a 
 duty, than sought as a pleasure. 
 
 The charms of Cecilia had forcibly, suddenly, and deeply 
 penetrated his heart ; he only lived in her presence, away 
 from her he hardly existed : the emotions she excited were 
 rather those of adoration than of love, for he gazed upon her 
 beauty till he thought her more than human, and hung upon 
 her accents till all speech seemed impertinent to him but her 
 own. Yet so small were his expectations of success, that 
 not even to his sister did he hint at the situation of his 
 heart : happy in an easy access to her, he contented him- 
 self with seeing, hearing and watching her, beyond which 
 bounds he formed not any plan, and scarce indulged any 
 hope. 
 
 Sir Robert Floyer, too, was a frequent visitor in Port- 
 man-square, where he dined almost daily. Cecilia was 
 chagrined at seeing so much of him, and provoked to find 
 herself almost constantly the object of his unrestrained ex- 
 amination ; she was, however, far more seriously concerned 
 for Mrs. Harrel, when she discovered that this favourite 
 friend of her husband was an unprincipled spendthrift, and 
 an extravagant gamester: for as he was the inseparable 
 companion of Mr. Harrel, she dreaded the consequence 
 both of his influence and his example. 
 
 She saw, too, with an amazement that daily increased, 
 the fatigue, yet fascination of a life of pleasure : Mr. Harrel 
 seemed to consider his own house merely as an hotel, 
 where at any hour of the night he might disturb the 
 family to claim admittance, where letters and messages 
 might be left for him, where he dined when no other 
 dinner was offered him, and where, when he made an 
 appointment, he was to be met with. His lady, top, though 
 more at home, was not therefore more solitary ; her ac- 
 quaintance were numerous, expensive and idle, and every 
 moment not actually spent in company, was scrupulously 
 devoted to making arrangements for that purpose.
 
 50 CECILIA. 
 
 In a short time Cecilia, who every day had hoped that 
 the next would afford her greater satisfaction, but who 
 every day found the present no better than the former, 
 began to grow weary of eternally running the same round, 
 and to sicken at the irksome repetition of unremitting yet 
 uninteresting dissipation. She saw nobody she wished to 
 see, as she had met with nobody for whom she could care ; 
 for though sometimes those with whom she mixed appeared 
 to be amiable, she knew that their manners, like their per- 
 sons, were in their best array, and therefore she had too 
 much understanding to judge decisively of their characters. 
 But what chiefly damped her hopes of forming a friend- 
 ship with any of the new acquaintance to whom she was 
 introduced, was the observation she herself made, how ill 
 the coldness of their hearts accorded with the warmth of 
 their professions : upon every first meeting, the civilities 
 which were shown her, flattered her into believing she had 
 excited a partiality that a very little time would ripen into 
 affection ; the nszi/ meeting commonly confirmed the ex- 
 pectation ; but the third, and every future one, regularly 
 destroyed it. She found that time added nothing to their 
 fondness, nor intimacy to their sincerity ; that the interest 
 in her welfare which appeared to be taken at first sight, 
 seldom, with whatever reason, increased, and often without 
 any abated ; that the distinction she at first met with, was 
 no effusion of kindness, but of curiosity, which is scarcely 
 sooner gratified than satiated ; and that those who lived 
 always the life into which she had only lately been initiated, 
 were as much harassed with it as herself, though less 
 spirited to relinquish, and more helpless to better it ; and 
 that they coveted nothing but what was new, because they 
 had experienced the insufficiency of whatever was familiar. 
 
 She began now to regret the loss she sustained in 
 quitting the neighbourhood, and being deprived of the 
 conversation of Mr. Monckton, and yet more earnestly to 
 miss the affection and sigh for the society of Mrs. Charlton, 
 the lady with whom she had long and happily resided at 
 Bury ; for she was very soon compelled to give up all 
 expectation of renewing the felicity of her earlier years, by 
 being restored to the friendship of Mrs. Harrel, in whom 
 she had mistaken the kindness of childish intimacy for the
 
 CECILIA. 51 
 
 sincerity of chosen affection; and though she saw her 
 credulous error with mortification and displeasure, she 
 regretted it with tenderness and sorrow. "What, at last," 
 cried she, " is human felicity, who has tasted, and where is 
 it to be found ? If I, who, to others, seem marked out 
 for even a partial possession of it, distinguished by for- 
 tune, caressed by the world, brought into the circle of high 
 life, and surrounded with splendour, seek without finding, 
 yet losing, scarce know how I miss it ! " 
 
 Ashamed upon reflection to believe she was considered 
 as an object of envy by others, while repining and discon- 
 tented herself, she determined no longer to be the only one 
 insensible to the blessings within her reach, but by pro- 
 jecting and adopting some plan of conduct, better suited 
 to her taste and feelings than the frivolous insipidity of 
 her present life, to make at once a more spirited and more 
 worthy use of the affluence, freedom and power which she 
 possessed. 
 
 A scheme of happiness at once rational and refined soon 
 presented itself to her imagination. She purposed, for the 
 basis of her plan, to become mistress of her own time, and 
 with this view, to drop all idle and uninteresting acquain- 
 tance, who, while they contribute neither to use nor pleasure, 
 make so large a part of the community, that they may 
 properly be called the underminers of existence : she could 
 then show some taste and discernment in her choice of 
 friends, and she resolved to select such only as by their 
 piety could elevate her mind, by their knowledge improve 
 her understanding, or by their accomplishments and 
 manners delight her affections. This regulation, if strictly 
 adhered to, would soon relieve her from the fatigue of 
 receiving many visitors, and therefore she might have all 
 the leisure she could desire for the pursuit of her favourite 
 studies, music and reading. 
 
 Having thus, from her own estimation of human per- 
 fection, culled whatever was noblest for her society, and 
 from her own ideas of sedentary enjoyments, arranged the 
 occupations of her hours of solitude, she felt fully satisfied 
 with the portion of happiness which her scheme promised 
 to herself, and began next to consider what was due from 
 her to the world.
 
 52 CECILIA. 
 
 And not without trembling did she then look forward to 
 the claims which the splendid income she was soon to 
 possess would call upon her to discharge. A strong sense 
 of DUTY, a fervent desire to ACT EIGHT, were the ruling 
 characteristics of her mind : her affluence she therefore 
 considered as a debt contracted with the poor : and her inde- 
 pendence, as a tie upon her liberality to pay it with interest. 
 
 Many and various, then, soothing to her spirit and 
 grateful to her sensibility, were the scenes which her fancy 
 delineated; now she supported an orphan, now softened 
 the sorrows of a widow, now snatched from iniquity the 
 feeble trembler at poverty, and now rescued from shame 
 the proud struggler with disgrace. The prospect at once 
 exalted her hopes, and enraptured her imagination ; she 
 regarded herself as an agent of Charity, and already in 
 idea anticipated the rewards of a good and faithful dele- 
 gate : so animating are the designs of disinterested bene- 
 volence ! so pure is the bliss of intellectual philanthropy ! 
 
 Not immediately, however, could this plan be put in 
 execution ; the society she meant to form could not be 
 selected in the house of another, where, though to some 
 she might show a preference, there were none she could 
 reject : nor had she yet the power to indulge, according to 
 the munificence of her wishes, the extensive generosity she 
 projected : these purposes demanded a house of her own, 
 and the unlimited disposal of her fortune, neither of which 
 she could claim till she became of age. That period, how- 
 ever, was only eight months distant, and she pleased herself 
 with the intention of meliorating her plan in the mean 
 time, and preparing to put it in practice. 
 
 But though, in common with all the race of still-ex- 
 pecting man, she looked for that happiness in the time to 
 come which the present failed to afford, she had yet the 
 spirit and good sense to determine upon making every 
 effort in her power to render her immediate way of life 
 more useful and contented. 
 
 Her first wish therefore, now, was to quit the house of 
 Mr. Harrel, where she neither met with entertainment nor 
 instruction, but was perpetually mortified by seeing the 
 total indifference of the friend in whose society she had 
 hoped for nothing but affection.
 
 CECILIA. 53 
 
 The will of her nude, though it obliged her while under- 
 age to live with one of her guardians, left her at liberty to 
 choose and to change amongst them according to her wishes 
 or convenience : she determined, therefore, to make a visit 
 herself to each of them, to observe their manners and way 
 of life, and then, to the best of her judgment, decide with 
 which she could be most contented : resolving, however, 
 not to hint at her intentiou till it was ripe for execution, 
 and then honestly to confess the reasons of her retreat. 
 
 She had acquainted them both of her journey to town 
 the morning after her arrival. She was almost an entire 
 stranger to each of them, as she had not seen Mr. Briggs 
 since she was nine years old, nor Mr. Delvile within the 
 time she could remember. 
 
 The very morning that she had settled her proceedings 
 for the arrangement of this new plan, she intended to 
 request the use of Mrs. Harrel's carriage, and to make, 
 without delay, the visits preparatory to her removal : but 
 when she entered the parlour upon a summons to break- 
 fast, her eagerness to quit the house gave way, for the 
 present, to the pleasure she felt at the sight of Mr. 
 Monckton, who was just arrived from Suffolk. 
 
 She expressed her satisfaction in the most lively terms, 
 and scrupled not to tell him she had not once been so 
 much pleased since her journey to town, except at her first 
 meeting with Mrs. Harrel. 
 
 Mr. Monckton, whose delight was infinitely superior to 
 her own, and whose joy in seeing her was redoubled by 
 the affectionate frankness of her reception, stifled the 
 emotions to which her sight gave rise, and denying himself 
 the solace of expressing his feelings, seemed much less 
 charmed than herself at the meeting, and suffered no word 
 nor look to escape him, beyond what could be authorised 
 by friendly civility. 
 
 He then renewed with Mrs. Harrel an acquaintance 
 which had been formed before her marriage, but which he 
 had dropt when her distance from Cecilia, upon whose 
 account alone he had thought it worth cultivation, made it 
 no longer of use to him. She afterwards introduced her 
 brother to him ; and a conversation very interesting to 
 both the ladies took place, concerning several families with
 
 o-i CECILIA. 
 
 which they had "been formerly connected, as well as the 
 neighbourhood at large in which they had lately dwelt. 
 
 Very little was the share taken by Mr. Arnott in these 
 accounts and enquiries ; the unaffected joy with which 
 Cecilia had received Mr. Monckton, had struck him with a 
 sensation of envy as involuntary as it was painful : he did 
 not, indeed, suspect that gentleman's secret views ; no 
 reason for suspicion was obvious, and his penetration sunk 
 not deeper than appearances ; he knew, too, that he was 
 married, and therefore no jealousy occurred to him ; but 
 still she had smiled upon him ! and he felt that to pur- 
 chase for himself a smile of so much sweetness, he would 
 have sacrificed almost all else that was valuable to him 
 upon earth. 
 
 With an attention infinitely more accurate, Mr. Monck- 
 ton had returned his observations. The uneasiness of his 
 mind was apparent, and the anxious watchfulness of his 
 eyes plainly manifested whence it arose. From a situation, 
 indeed, which permitted an intercourse the most constant 
 and unrestrained with such an object as Cecilia, nothing 
 less could be expected, and therefore he considered his 
 admiration as inevitable ; all that remained to be dis- 
 covered, was the reception it had met from his fair 
 enslaver. Nor was he here long in doubt ; he soon saw 
 that she was not merely free from all passion herself, but 
 had so little watched Mr. Arnott as to be unconscious she 
 had inspired any. 
 
 Yet was his own serenity, though apparently unmoved, 
 little less disturbed in secret than that of his rival ; he did 
 not think him a formidable candidate, but he dreaded the 
 effect of intimacy, fearing she might first grow accustomed 
 to his attentions, and then become pleased with them : he 
 apprehended, also, the influence of his sister, and of Mr. 
 Harrel in his favour ; and though he had no difficulty to 
 persuade himself that any offer he might now make would 
 be rejected without hesitation, he knew too well the insi- 
 dious properties of perseverance, to see him, without in- 
 quietude, situated so advantageously. 
 
 The morning was far advanced before he took leave, yet 
 he found no opportunity of discoursing with Cecilia, 
 though he impatiently desired to examine into the state of
 
 CECILIA. 55 
 
 her mind, and to discover whether her London journey 
 had added any fresh difficulties to the success of his long- 
 concerted scheme. But as Mrs. Harrel invited him to 
 dinner, he hoped the afternoon would be more propitious 
 to his wishes. 
 
 Cecilia, too, was eager to communicate to him her 
 favourite project, and to receive his advice with respect to 
 its execution. She had long been used to his counsel, and 
 she was now more than ever solicitous to obtain it, because 
 she considered him as the only person in London who was 
 interested in her welfare. 
 
 He saw, however, no promise of better success when he 
 made his appearance at dinner time, for not only Mr. 
 Arnott was already arrived, but Sir Robert Floyer ; and 
 lie found Cecilia so much the object of their mutual atten- 
 tion, that he had still less chance than in the morning of 
 speaking to her unheard. 
 
 Yet was he not idle ; the sight of Sir Robert gave 
 abundant employment to his penetration, which was imme- 
 diately at work, to discover the motive of his visit : but 
 this, with all his sagacity, was not easily decided ; for 
 though the constant direction of his eyes towards Cecilia, 
 proved, at least, that he was not insensible of her beauty, 
 his carelessness whether or not she was hurt by his exami- 
 nation, the little pains he took to converse with her, and 
 the invariable assurance and negligence of his manners, 
 seemed strongly to demonstrate an indifference to the sen- 
 timents he inspired, totally incompatible with the solicitude 
 of affection. 
 
 In Cecilia he had nothing to observe but what his know- 
 ledge of her character prepared him to expect, a shame no 
 less indignant than modest at the freedom with which she 
 saw herself surveyed. 
 
 Very little, therefore, was the satisfaction which this 
 visit procured him, for soon after dinner the ladies retired ; 
 and as they had an early engagement for the evening, the 
 gentlemen received no summons to their tea-table. But 
 he contrived, before they quitted the room, to make an 
 appointment for attending them the next morning to a 
 rehearsal of a new serious opera. 
 
 He stayed not after their departure longer than decency
 
 56 CECILIA. 
 
 required ; for too much in earnest was his present pursuit, 
 to fit him for such conversation as the house in Cecilia's 
 absence could afford him. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AN OPEEA REHEARSAL. 
 
 '"PHE next day, between eleven and twelve o'clock, Mr. 
 -- Monckton was again in Portman- square ; he found, 
 as he expected, both the ladies, and he found, as he feared, 
 Mr. Arnott prepared to be of their party. He had, how- 
 ever, but little time to repine at this intrusion, before he 
 was disturbed by another; for, in a few minutes, they 
 were joined by Sir Robert Floyer, who also declared his 
 intention of accompanying them to the Haymarket. 1 
 
 Mr. Monckton, to disguise his chagrin, pretended he was 
 in great haste to set off, lest they should be too late for the 
 overture : they were, therefore, quitting the breakfast 
 room, when they were stopt by the appearance of Mr. 
 Morrice. 
 
 The surprise which the sight of him gave to Mr. 
 Monckton was extreme ; he knew that he was unac- 
 quainted with Mr. Harrel, for he remembered they were 
 strangers to each other when they lately met at his 
 house ; he concluded, therefore, that Cecilia was the object 
 of his visit, but he could frame no conjecture under what 
 pretence. 
 
 The easy terms upon which he seemed with all the 
 family by no means diminished his amazement ; for when 
 Mrs. Harrel expressed some concern that she was obliged 
 to go out, he gaily begged her not to mind him, assuring 
 her he could not have stayed two minutes, and promising, 
 unasked, to call again the next day : and when she added, 
 
 1 This was the theatre built by Sir John Vanbrugh. It was opened 
 in 1705, and burnt down in 1789. "The establishment of the Italian 
 Opera in England is usually dated from the arrival of Handel, and the 
 appearance of his rirst opera, ' Kiualdo,' in 1711." CCKNIKGHAM'S Hand- 
 book for London.
 
 CECILIA. 57 
 
 " We would not hurry away so, only we are going to a 
 rehearsal of an opera," he exclaimed with quickness, " A 
 rehearsal ! are you really ? I have a great mind to 
 go too ! " 
 
 Then, perceiving Mr. Monckton, he bowed to him with 
 great respect, and enquired, with no little solemnity, how 
 he had left Lady Margaret, hoped she was perfectly re- 
 covered from her late indisposition, and asked sundry 
 questions with regard to her plan for the winter. 
 
 This discourse was ill constructed for rendering his 
 presence desirable to Mr. Monckton ; he answered him 
 very drily, and again pressed their departure. 
 
 " 0," cried Morrice, " there's no occasion for such 
 haste ; the rehearsal does not begin till one." 
 
 "You are mistaken, sir!" said Mr. Monckton; "it is 
 to begin at twelve o'clock." 
 
 " O, ay, very true," returned Morrice ; " I had forgot 
 the dances, and I suppose they are to be rehearsed first. 
 Pray, Miss Beverley, did you ever see any dances re- 
 hearsed ?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " You'll be excessively entertained, then, I assure you. 
 It's the most comical thing in the world to see those 
 signors and signoras cutting capers in a morning. And 
 the figuranti will divert you beyond measure; you never 
 saw such a shabby set in your life : but the most amusing 
 thing is to look in their faces, for all the time they are 
 jumping and skipping about the stage as if they could not 
 stand still for joy, they look as sedate and as dismal as if 
 they were so many undertaker's men." 
 
 " Not a word against dancing ! " cried Sir Robert ; " it's 
 the only thing carries one to the Opera ; and I am sure it's 
 the only thing one minds at it." 
 
 The two ladies were then handed to Mrs. Barrel's 
 vis-a-vis ; and the gentlemen, joined without further cere- 
 mony by Mr. Morrice, followed them to the Haymarket. 
 
 The rehearsal was not begun, and Mrs. Harrel and 
 Cecilia secured themselves a box upon the stage, from 
 which the gentlemen of their party took care not to be 
 very distant. 
 
 They were soon perceived by Mr. Ofosport, who instantly
 
 58 CECILIA. 
 
 entered into conversation with Cecilia. Miss Larolles, 
 who with some other ladies came soon after into the next 
 box, looked out to curtsey and nod, with her usual readi- 
 ness, at Mrs. Harrel, but took not any notice of Cecilia, 
 though she made the first advances. 
 
 "What's the matter now?" cried Mr. Gosport ; "have 
 you affronted your little prattling friend ?" 
 
 " Not with my own knowledge," answered Cecilia ; " per- 
 haps she does not recollect me." 
 
 Just then Miss Larolles, tapping at the door, came in 
 from the next box to speak to Mrs. Harrel ; with whom 
 she stood chatting and laughing some minutes, without 
 seeming to perceive that Cecilia was of her party. 
 
 " Why what have you done to the poor girl ?" whispered 
 Mr. Gosport ; " did you talk more than herself when you 
 saw her last ? " 
 
 "Would that have been possible?" cried Cecilia. 
 " However, I still fancy she does not know me." 
 
 She then stood up, which making Miss Larolles in- 
 voluntarily turn towards her, she again curtsied ; a 
 civility which that young lady scarce deigned to return, 
 before, bridling with an air of resentment, she hastily 
 looked another way, and then, nodding good-humouredly 
 at Mrs. Harrel, hurried back to her party. 
 
 Cecilia, much amazed, said to Mr. Gosport, " See now 
 how great was our presumption in supposing this young 
 lady's loquacity always at our devotion ! " 
 
 " Ah, madam ! " cried he, laughing, " there is no per- 
 manency, no consistency in the world ! no, not even in the 
 tongue of a YOLUBLE ! and if that fails, upon what may we 
 depend ?" 
 
 "But seriously," said Cecilia, "I am sorry I have 
 offended her, and the more because I so little know how, 
 that I can offer her no apology." 
 
 " Will you appoint me your envoy ? Shall I demand 
 the cause of these hostilities ?" 
 
 She thanked him, and he followed Miss Larolles ; who 
 was now addressing herself with great earnestness to Mr. 
 Meadows, the gentleman with whom she was conversing 
 when Cecilia first saw her in Portman-square. He stopt a 
 moment to let her finish her speech, which, with no little
 
 CECILIA. 59 
 
 spirit, she did in these words, " I never knew any thing 
 like it in my life ; but I sha'n't put up with such airs, I 
 assure her ! " 
 
 Mr. Meadows made not any other return to her harangue, 
 but stretching himself with a languid smile and yawning : 
 Mr. Gfosport, therefore, seizing the moment of cessation, 
 said, " Miss Larolles, I hear a strange report about you." 
 
 " Do you ? " returned she, with quickness ; " pray what 
 is it ? something monstrous impertinent, I dare say ; 
 however, I assure you it i'n't true." 
 
 " Your assurance," cried he, " carries conviction in- 
 disputable, for the report was that you had left off 
 talking." 
 
 " 0, was that all," cried she, disappointed ; "I thought 
 it had been something about Mr. Sawyer, for I declare I 
 have been plagued so about him, I am quite sick of his 
 name." 
 
 " And for my part, I never heard it ! so fear nothing 
 from me upon his account." 
 
 " Lord, Mr. Grosport, how can you say so ! I am sure 
 yon must know about the festino that night, for it was all 
 over the town in a moment." 
 
 "What festino?" 
 
 " Well, only conceive how provoking ! Why, I know 
 nothing else was talked of for a month ! " 
 
 " You are most formidably stout this morning ! It is 
 not two minutes since I saw you fling the gauntlet at Miss 
 Beverley, and yet you are already prepared for another 
 antagonist." 
 
 " 0, as to Miss Beverley, I must really beg you not to 
 mention her ; she has behaved so impertinently, that I 
 don't ever intend to speak to her again." 
 
 " Why, what has she done ? " 
 
 " she's been so rude you've no notion. I'll tell you 
 how it was. You must know I met her at Mrs. Harrel's 
 the day she came to town, and the very next morning I 
 waited on her myself, for I would not send a ticket, 
 because I really wished to be civil to her ; well, the day 
 after, she never came near me, though I called upon her 
 again ; however, I did not take any notice of that ; but 
 when the third day came, and I found she had not even
 
 60 CECILIA. 
 
 sent me a ticket, I thought it monstrous ill bred indeed ; 
 and now there has past more than a week, and yet she has 
 never called : so I suppose she don't like me ; so- 1 shall 
 drop her acquaintance." 
 
 Mr. Gosport, satisfied now with the subject of her com- 
 plaint, returned to Cecilia, and informed her of the heavy 
 charge which was brought against her. 
 
 " I am glad, at least, to know my crime," said she ; 
 " for otherwise I should certainly have sinned on in igno- 
 rance, as I must confess I never thought of returning her 
 visits : but even if I had, I should not have supposed I 
 had yet lost much time." 
 
 " I beg your pardon there," said Mrs. Harrel ; " a first 
 visit ought to be returned always by the third day." 
 
 " Then have I an unanswerable excuse," said Cecilia ; 
 " for I remember that on the third day I saw her at your 
 house." 
 
 " that's nothing at all to the purpose ; you should 
 have waited upon her, or sent her a ticket, just the same 
 as if you had not seen her." 
 
 The overture was now begun, and Cecilia declined any 
 further conversation. This was the first opera she had 
 ever heard, yet she was not wholly a stranger to Italian 
 compositions, having assiduously studied music from a 
 natural love of the art, attended all the best concerts her 
 neighbourhood afforded, and regularly received from Lon- 
 don the works of the best masters. But the little skill 
 she had thus gained, served rather to increase than to 
 lessen the surprise with which she heard the present per- 
 formance a surprise of which the discovery of her own 
 ignorance made not the least part. Unconscious, from the 
 little she had acquired, how much was to be learnt, she was 
 astonished to find the inadequate power of written music to 
 convey any idea of vocal abilities : with just knowledge 
 enough, therefore, to understand something of the diffi- 
 culties, and feel much of the merit, she gave to the whole 
 opera an avidity of attention almost painful from its own 
 eagerness. 
 
 But both the surprise and the pleasure which she re- 
 ceived from the performance in general, were faint, cold, 
 and languid, compared to the strength of those emotions
 
 CECILIA. 61 
 
 when excited by Signer Pacchierotti 1 in particular; and 
 though not half the excellencies of that superior singer 
 were necessary either to amaze or charm her unaccustomed 
 ears, though the refinement of his taste and masterly 
 originality of his genius, to be praised as they deserved,, 
 called for the judgment and knowledge of professors, yet 
 a natural love of music in some measure supplied the place 
 of cultivation, and what she could neither explain nor 
 understand, she could feel and enjoy. 
 
 The opera was Artaserse ; a and the pleasure she received 
 from the music was much augmented by her previous 
 acquaintance with that interesting drama ; yet, as to all 
 noviciates in science, whatever is least complicated is most 
 pleasing, she found herself by nothing so deeply impressed,, 
 as by the plaintive and beautiful simplicity with which 
 Pacchierotti uttered the affecting repetition of sono inno- 
 cente ! his voice, always either sweet or impassioned, deli- 
 
 1 Gaspare Pacchierotti, who was horn at Ancona in 1744, was the 
 chief singer at the theatre of San Carlo, in Naples, in 1772, and of the 
 Italian Opera House in London, from 1778 to 1785, and again in 1790. 
 Pacchierotti was a friend of Dr. Burney and his family, and had lessons 
 in English from Frances Burney as well as from the poet Mason. 
 "January, 1779. ... I like him of all things: he is perfectly modest, 
 
 humble, well-bred, and unassuming I am more pleased with 
 
 Pacchierotti than ever ; he seems to be perfectly amiable, gentle and 
 good ; his countenance is extremely benevolent, and his manners infi- 
 nitely interesting." Diary of M me . IfArblay p. 15, vol. ii. 
 
 2 The words of the opera of " Artaserse " were by Metastasio, the 
 music by Vinci. It was first represented in Rome, during the Carnival' 
 of 1730. It contains the charming little poem, 
 
 " L'Onda dal mar divisa," 
 Which was thus turned into English : 
 
 " Water parted, water parted, 
 Water parted from the sea." 
 
 " Water parted" was one of the airs to which the bear of Tony Lump- 
 kin's alehouse friend danced. 
 
 " 4th Fellow. The genteel thing is the genteel thing at any time ; if 
 so be that a gentleman bees in a concatenation accordingly. 
 
 " 3rd Fellow. I like the maxum of it, Master Muggins. What thof 
 I am obligated to dance a bear, a man may be a gentleman for all that. 
 May this be my poison, if my bear ever dances but to the very gen- 
 teelest of tunes : ' Water parted,' or the minuet in ' Ariadne.' " She 
 Stoops to Conquer.
 
 62 CECILIA. 
 
 vered those words in a tone of softness, pathos, and 
 sensibility, that struck her with a sensation not more new 
 than delightful. 
 
 But though she was, perhaps, the only person thus 
 astonished, she was by no means the only one enraptured ; 
 for notwithstanding she was too earnestly engaged to 
 remark the company in general, she could not avoid taking 
 notice of an old gentleman who stood by one of the side 
 scenes, against which he leant his head in a manner that 
 concealed his face, with an evident design to be wholly 
 absorbed in listening : and during the songs of Pacchierotti 
 he sighed so deeply, that Cecilia, struck by his uncommon 
 sensibility to the power of music, involuntarily watched 
 him, whenever her mind was sufficiently at liberty to 
 attend to any emotions but its own. 
 
 As soon as the rehearsal was over, the gentlemen of Mrs. 
 Barrel's party crowded before her box ; and Cecilia then 
 perceived that the person whose musical enthusiasm had 
 excited her curiosity, was the same old gentleman whose 
 extraordinary behaviour had so much surprised her at the 
 house of Mr. Monckton. Her desire to obtain some infor- 
 mation concerning him again reviving, she was beginning 
 to make fresh enquiries, when she was interrupted by the 
 approach of Captain Aresby. 
 
 That gentleman, advancing to her with a smile of the 
 extremest self-complacency, after hoping, in a low voice, 
 he had the honour of seeing her well, exclaimed, " How 
 wretchedly empty is the town ! petrifying to a degree ! I 
 believe you. do not find yourself at present obsede by too 
 much company ? " 
 
 " At present, I believe the contrary ! " cried Mr. Grosport. 
 
 " Really ! " said the Captain, unsuspicious of his sneer, 
 " I protest I have hardly seen a soul. Have you tried the 
 Pantheon : yet, ma'am ? " 
 
 1 A theatre and public promenade, opened in 1772, " undoubtedly the 
 finest and most complete thing ever seen in England. Such mixture of 
 company never assembled before under the same roof. Lord Mansfield, 
 Mrs. Baddeley, Lord Chief Baron Parker, Mrs. Abington, Sir James 
 Porter, Mademoiselle Heinell, Lords Hyde and Camden, with many 
 other serious men, and many of the gay ladies in town, and ladies of 
 the best rank and character ; and, by appearance, some very low 
 
 people " MRS. HARRIS, in the Letters of the first Earl of 
 
 Malmesbury.
 
 CECILIA. 63 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Nor I ; I don't know whether people go there this 
 year. It is not a favourite spectacle with me ; that sitting 
 to hear the music is a horrid bore. Have you done the 
 Festino l the honour to look in there yet ? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Permit me, then, to have the honour to beg you will 
 try it." 
 
 " 0, ay, true," cried Mrs. Harrel ; " I have really used 
 you very ill about that ; I should have got you in for a 
 subscriber : but Lord, I have done nothing for you yet, 
 and you never put me in mind. There's the ancient 
 music, 2 and Abel's concert ; 3 as to the Opera, we may have 
 a box between us ; but there's the ladies' concert we must 
 try for ; and there's Lord, fifty other places we must 
 think of ! " 
 
 " Oh, times of folly and dissipation ! " exclaimed a voice 
 at some distance ; " oh, minions of idleness and luxury ! 
 What next will ye invent for the perdition of your time ? 
 How yet further will ye proceed in the annihilation of 
 virtue ? " 
 
 Every body stared ; but Mrs. Harrel coolly said, " Dear, 
 it's only the man-hater ! " 
 
 " The man-hater ? " repeated Cecilia, who found that the 
 speech was made by the object of her former curiosity ; 
 " is that the name by which he is known ? " 
 
 " He is known by fifty names," said Mr. Monckton ; 
 
 1 " There is a new dance at the Festino, called the ' Fricasee.' It is 
 danced by George Hanger, Mr. Darner, Lady Barrimore, and your 
 friend Mrs. Rachel Lloyd. It begins with an affront, then they fight 
 and fire pistols, then they are reconciled, embrace, and so ends the 
 dance." MBS. HARRIS, in the Malmesbwry Letters. 
 
 2 The concerts of Ancient Music, generally known as " the King's 
 Concerts," were begun in 1776 at Tottenham Street Rooms. After- 
 wards they were given at the King's Theatre in the Haymarket. No 
 composition less than twenty-five years old could be performed at these 
 concerts. 
 
 3 Abel's Concerts were held in the Hanover Square Rooms, which 
 were built in 1774 by Sir John Gallini, one of the managers of the 
 Italian Opera in London. King George and Queen Charlotte often 
 went to them. Charles Frederick Abel, who came to London about 
 1761, and died there in 1787, was a composer, as well as performer of 
 music, and " Chamber Musician" to the Queen.
 
 64 CECILIA. 
 
 " his friends call him the moralist ; the young ladies, the 
 crazy -man ; the macaronies, the lore ; in short, he is called 
 by any and every name but his own." 
 
 " He is a most petrifying wretch, I assure you," said the 
 Captain ; " I am obsede by him partant; if I had known he 
 had been so near, I should certainly have said nothing." 
 
 " That you have done so well," cried Mr. Gosport, " that 
 if you had known it the whole time, you could have done 
 it no better." 
 
 The Captain, who had not heard this speech, which was 
 rather made at him than to him, continued his address to 
 Cecilia ; " Give me leave to have the honour of hoping you. 
 intend to honour our select masquerade at the Pantheon 
 with your presence. We shall have but 500 tickets, and 
 the subscription will only be three guineas and a half." 
 
 " Oh, objects of penury and want ! " again exclaimed the 
 incognito ; " oh vassals of famine and distress ! Come 
 and listen to this wantonness of wealth ! Come, naked 
 and breadless as ye are, and learn how that money is 
 consumed which to you might bring raiment and food ! " 
 
 " That strange wretch," said the Captain, " ought really 
 to be confined ; I have had the honour to be degoute by him 
 so often, that I think him quite obnoxious. I make it a 
 principle to seal up my lips the moment I perceive him." 
 
 " Where is it, then," said Cecilia, " that you have so often 
 met him ? " 
 
 " O," answered the Captain, "partout; there is no greater 
 bore about town. But the time I found him most petrify- 
 ing was once when I happened to have the honour of dancing 
 with a very young lady, who was but just come from a 
 boarding-school, and whose friends had done me the honour 
 to fix upon me, upon the principle of first bringing her out: 
 and while I was doing mon possible for killing the time, he 
 came up, and, in his particular manner, told her I had no 
 meaning in any thing I said ! I must own I never felt more 
 tempted to be enrage with a person in years, in my life." 
 
 Mr. Arnott now brought the ladies word that their 
 carriage was ready, and they quitted their box : but as 
 Cecilia had never before seen the interior parts of a theatre, 
 Mr. Monckton, hoping while they loitered to have an oppor- 
 tunity of talking with her, asked Morrice why he did not
 
 CECILIA. 65 
 
 show the lions ? Morrice, always happy in being employed, 
 declared it was just the thing he liked best, and begged per- 
 mission to do the honours to Mrs. Harrel, who, ever eager 
 in the search of amusement, willingly accepted his offer. 
 
 They all, therefore, marched upon the stage, their own 
 party now being the only one that remained. 
 
 " We shall make a triumphal entry here," cried Sir 
 Robert Floyer ; " the very tread of the stage half tempts 
 me to turn actor." 
 
 " You are a rare man," said Mr. Gosport, " if, at your 
 time of life, that is a turn not already taken." 
 
 " My time of life ! " repeated he ; " what do you mean by 
 that ? do you take me for an old man ? " 
 
 " No, sir, but I take you to be past childhood, and con- 
 sequently to have served your apprenticeship to the actors 
 you have mixed with on the great stage of the world, and, 
 for some years at least, to have set up for yourself." 
 
 "Come," cried Morrice, "let's have a little spouting; 
 'twill make us warm." 
 
 " Yes," said Sir Robert, " if we spout to an animating 
 object. If Miss Beverley will be Juliet, I am Romeo at 
 her service." 
 
 At this moment the incognito, quitting the corner in 
 which he had planted himself, came suddenly forward, and 
 standing before the whole group, cast upon Cecilia a look 
 of much compassion, and called out, " Poor simple victim ! 
 hast thou already so many pursuers ? yet seest not that 
 thou art marked for sacrifice ! yet knowest not that thou 
 art destined for prey ! " 
 
 Cecilia, extremely struck by this extraordinary address, 
 stopt short, and looked much disturbed ; which, when he 
 perceived, he added, " Let the danger, not the warning 
 affect you ! discard the sycophants that surround you, seek 
 the virtuous, relieve the poor, and save yourself from the 
 impending destruction of unfeeling prosperity ! " 
 
 Having uttered these words with vehemence and autho- 
 rity, he sternly passed them, and disappeared. 
 
 Cecilia, too much astonished for speech, stood for some 
 time immoveable, revolving in her mind various conjectures 
 upon the meaning of an exhortation so strange and so 
 urgent. 
 
 F
 
 66 CECILIA. 
 
 was the rest of the company much less discomposed : 
 Sir Robert, Mr. Monckton, and Mr. Arnott, each conscious 
 of their own particular plans, were each apprehensive that 
 the warning pointed at himself : Mr. Gosport was offended 
 at being included in the general appellation of sycophants ; 
 Mrs. Harrel was provoked at being interrupted in her 
 ramble ; and Captain Aresby, sickening at the very sight 
 of him, retreated the moment he came forth. 
 
 " For heaven's sake," cried Cecilia, when somewhat 
 recovered from her consternation, " who can this be, and 
 what can he mean ? You, Mr. Monckton, must surely 
 know something of him ; it was at your house I first saw 
 him." 
 
 " Indeed," answered Mr. Monckton, " I knew almost 
 nothing of him then, and I am but little better informed 
 now. Belfield picked him up somewhere, and desired to 
 bring him to my house : he called him by the name of 
 Albany : I found him a most extraordinary character ; and 
 Belfield, who is a worshipper of originality, was very fond 
 of him." 
 
 " He's a devilish crabbed old fellow," cried Sir Robert ; 
 " and if he goes on much longer at this confounded rate, 
 he stands a very fair chance of getting his ears cropt." 
 
 " He is a man of the most singular conduct I have ever 
 met with," said Mr. Gosport ; "he seems to hold mankind 
 in abhorrence, yet he is never a moment alone, and at the 
 same time that he intrudes himself into all parties, he asso- 
 ciates with none : he is commonly a stern and silent ob- 
 server of all that passes, or when he speaks, it is but to 
 utter some sentence of rigid morality, or some bitterness of 
 indignant reproof." ' 
 
 The carriage was now again announced, and Mr. Monck- 
 ton taking Cecilia's hand, while Mr. Morrice secured to 
 himself the honour of Mrs. Barrel's, Sir Robert and Mr. 
 Gosport made their bows and departed. But though they 
 had now quitted the stage, and arrived at the head of a 
 email stair-case by which they were to descend out of the 
 theatre, Mr. Monkton, finding all his tormentors retired, 
 
 1 "My father's present favourite is the old crazy moralist, Albany. 
 He is quite delighted with him ; and no one else has taken any notice 
 of him/' Miss BURNET to MR. CRISP, May, 1782 (Diary, p. 142, ii.).
 
 CECILIA. 67 
 
 except Mr. Arnott, whom he hoped to elude, could not 
 resist making one more attempt for a few moments con- 
 versation with Cecilia ; and, therefore, again applying to 
 Morrice, he called out, " I don't think you have shown the 
 ladies any of the contrivances behind the scenes." 
 
 " True," cried Morrice, " no more I have ; suppose we 
 go back?" 
 
 "I shall like it vastly," said Mrs. Harrel ; and back 
 they returned. 
 
 Mr. Monckton now soon found an opportunity to say to 
 Cecilia, " Miss Beverley, what I foresaw has exactly come 
 to pass ; you are surrounded by selfish designers, by in- 
 terested, double-minded people, who have nothing at heart 
 but your fortune, and whose mercenary views, if you are 
 not guarded against them " 
 
 Here a loud scream from Mrs. Harrel interrupted his 
 speech ; Cecilia, much alarmed, turned from him to enquire 
 the cause, and Mr. Monckton was obliged to follow her 
 example ; but his mortification was almost intolerable when 
 he saw that lady in a violent fit of laughter, and found her 
 scream was only occasioned by seeing Mr. Morrice, in his 
 diligence to do the honours, pull upon his own head one of 
 the side scenes ! 
 
 There was now no possibility of proposing any farther 
 delay ; but Mr. Monckton, in attending the ladies to their 
 carriage, was obliged to have recourse to his utmost dis- 
 cretion and forbearance, in order to check his desire of 
 reprimanding Morrice for his blundering officiousness. 
 
 Dressing, dining with company at home, and then going 
 out with company abroad, filled up, as usual, the rest of 
 the day.
 
 68 CECILIA. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 A SUPPLICATION. 
 
 THE next morning Cecilia, at the repeated remon- 
 strances of Mrs. Harrel, consented to call upon Miss 
 Larolles. She felt the impracticability of beginning at 
 present the alteration in her way of life she had projected, 
 and therefore thought it most expedient to assume no sin- 
 gularity, till her independency should enable her to support 
 it with consistency ; yet greater than ever was her internal 
 eagerness to better satisfy her inclination and her con- 
 science in the disposition of her time, and the distribution 
 of her wealth, since she had heard the emphatic charge of 
 her unknown mentor. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel declined accompanying her in this visit, 
 because she had appointed a surveyor to bring a plan for 
 the inspection of Mr. Harrel and herself, of a small tem- 
 porary building, to be erected at Violet-Bank, for the 
 purpose of performing plays in private the ensuing Easter. 
 
 When the street door was opened for her to get into the 
 carriage, she was struck with the appearance of an elderly 
 woman who was standing at some distance, and seemed 
 shivering with cold, and who, as she descended the steps, 
 joined her hands in an act of supplication, and advanced 
 nearer to the carriage. 
 
 Cecilia stopt to look at her : her dress, though parsimo- 
 nious, was too neat for a beggar; and she considered a 
 moment what she could offer her. The poor woman con- 
 tinued to move forward, but with a slowness of pace that 
 indicated extreme weakness ; and, as she approached and 
 raised her head, she exhibited a countenance so wretched, 
 and a complexion so sickly, that Cecilia was impressed 
 with horror at the sight. 
 
 With her hands still joined, and a voice that seemed 
 fearful of its own sound, " Oh, madam," she cried, "that 
 you would but hear me ! " 
 
 " Hear you ! " repeated Cecilia, hastily feeling for her
 
 CECILIA. 69 
 
 purse, " most certainly ; and tell me how I shall assist 
 
 you?" 
 
 " Heaven bless you for speaking so kindly, madam ! " 
 cried the woman, with a voice more assured ; " I was sadly 
 afraid you would be angry, but I saw the carriage at the 
 door, and I thought I would try ; for I could be no worse ; 
 and distress, madam, makes very bold." 
 
 " Angry ! " said Cecilia, taking a crown from her purse ; 
 " no, indeed ! who could see such wretchedness, and feel 
 anything but pity ! " 
 
 "Oh, madam," returned the poor woman, "I could 
 almost cry to hear you talk so, though I never thought to 
 cry again, since I left it off for my poor Billy ! " 
 
 " Have you, then, lost a son ? " 
 
 " Yes, madam ; but he was a great deal too good to live, 
 so I have quite left off grieving for him now." 
 
 " Come in, good woman," said Cecilia ; " it is too cold 
 to stand here, and you seem half starved already : come 
 in, and let me have some talk with you." 
 
 She then gave orders that the carriage should be driven 
 round the square till she was ready, and making the 
 woman follow her into a parlour, desired to know what she 
 should do for her, changing, while she spoke, from a 
 movement of encreasing compassion, the crown which she 
 held in her hand for double that sum. 
 
 " You can do everything, madam," she answered, " if 
 you will but plead for us to his honour : he little thinks of 
 our distress, because he has been afflicted with none him- 
 self ; and I would not be so troublesome to him, but 
 indeed, indeed, madam, we are quite pinched for want ! " 
 
 Cecilia, struck with the words he little thinks of our 
 distress, became he has been afflicted with none himself, felt 
 again ashamed of the smallness of her intended donation, 
 and taking from her purse another half guinea, said, " Will 
 this assist you ? Will a guinea be sufficient for the present ? " 
 
 " I humbly thank you, madam," said the woman, curtsy- 
 ing low ; " shall I give you a receipt ? " 
 
 "A receipt!" cried Cecilia, with emotion, "for what? 
 ALis, our accounts are by no means balanced ! but I shall 
 do more for you, if I find you as deserving an object as you 
 seem to be."
 
 70 CECILIA. 
 
 " You are very good, madam ; but I only meant a receipt 
 in part of payment." 
 
 " Payment for what ? I don't understand you." 
 
 " Did his honour never tell yon, madam, of our 
 account ? " 
 
 " What account ? " 
 
 " Our bill, madam, for work done to the new Temple at 
 Violet-Bank : it was the last great work my poor husband 
 was able to do, for it was there he met with his mis- 
 fortune." 
 
 " What bill ? What misfortune ? " cried Cecilia ; 
 " What had your husband to do at Violet-Bank ? " 
 
 " He was the carpenter, madam. I thought you might 
 have seen poor Hill the carpenter there." 
 
 " No, I never was there myself. Perhaps you mistake 
 me for Mrs. Harrel." 
 
 " Why sure, madam, a'n't you his honour's lady ? " 
 
 " No. But tell me, what is this bill ? " 
 
 " 'Tis a bill, madam, for very hard work, for work, 
 madam, which I am sure will cost my husband his life ; 
 and though I have been after his honour night and day to 
 get it, and sent him letters and petitions with an account 
 of our misfortunes, I have never received so much as a 
 shilling ! and now the servants won't even let me wait in 
 the hall to speak to him ! Oh, madam ! you who seem so 
 good, plead to his honour in our behalf ! tell him my poor 
 husband cannot live ! tell him my children are starving ! 
 and tell him my poor Billy, that used to help to keep us, is 
 dead, and that all the work I can do by myself is not 
 enough to maintain us ! " 
 
 "Good heaven!" cried Cecilia, extremely moved, "is it 
 then your own money for which you sue thus humbly ? " 
 
 " Yes, madam, for my own just and honest money, as 
 his honour knows, and will tell you himself." 
 
 " Impossible ! " cried Cecilia, " he cannot know it ; but 
 I will take care he shall soon be informed of it. Hpw 
 much is the bill?" 
 
 " Two-and-twenty pounds, madam." 
 
 " What, no more ? " 
 
 " Ah, madam, you gentlefolks little think how much 
 that is to poor people ! A hard-working family, like mine,
 
 CECILIA. 71 
 
 madam, with the help of 20 will go on for a long while 
 quite in paradise." 
 
 " Poor worthy woman ! " cried Cecilia, whose eyes were 
 filled with tears of compassion, " if 20 will place you in 
 paradise, and that 20 only your just right, it is hard, 
 indeed, that you should be kept without it ; especially 
 when your debtors are too affluent to miss it. Stay here a 
 few moments, and I will bring you the money imme- 
 diately." 
 
 Away she flew, and returned to the breakfast room, but 
 found there only Mr. Arnott, who told her that Mr. Barrel 
 was in the library, with his sister and some gentlemen. 
 Cecilia briefly related her business, and begged he would 
 inform Mr. Harrel she wished to speak to him directly. 
 Mr. Arnott shook his head, but obeyed. 
 
 They returned together, and immediately, " Miss Bever- 
 ley," cried Mr. Harrel, gaily, " I am glad you are not gone, 
 for we want much to consult with you. Will you come 
 up stairs ?" 
 
 " Presently," answered she ; " but first I must speak to 
 you about a poor woman with whom I have accidentally 
 been talking, who has begged me to intercede with you to 
 pay a little debt that she thinks you have forgotten, but 
 that probably you have never heard mentioned." 
 
 "A debt!" cried he, with an immediate change of 
 countenance, " to whom ? " 
 
 " Her name, I think, is Hill ; she is wife to the carpenter 
 you employed about a new temple at Violet-Bank." 
 
 " what what that woman ? Well, well, I'll see she 
 shall be paid. Come, let us go to the library." 
 
 " What, with my commission so ill executed ? I pro- 
 mised to petition for her to have the money directly." 
 
 " Pho, pho, there's no such hurry ; I don't know what I 
 have done with her bill." 
 
 " I'll run and get another." 
 
 " upon no account ! She may send another in two or 
 three days. She deserves to wait a twelvemonth for her 
 impertinence in troubling you at all about it." 
 
 " That was entirely accidental : but indeed you must 
 give me leave to perform my promise and plead for her. It 
 must be almost the same to you whether you pay such a
 
 72 CECILIA. 
 
 trifle as 20 now, or a month hence, and to this poor 
 woman, the difference seems little short of life or death ; 
 for she tells me her husband is dying, and her children 
 half famished, and though she looks an object of the 
 cruellest want and distress herself, she appears to be their 
 only support." 
 
 "0," cried Mr. Harrel, laughing, "what a dismal tale 
 has she been telling you ! no doubt she saw you were fresh 
 from the country ! But if you give credit to all the 
 farragos of these trumpery impostors, you will never have 
 a moment to yourself, nor a guinea in your purse." 
 
 " This woman," answered Cecilia, " cannot be an im- 
 postor, she carries marks but too evident and too dreadful 
 in her countenance of the sufferings which she relates." 
 
 " 0," returned he, " when you know the town better, 
 yon will soon see through tricks of this sort ; a sick 
 husband and five small children are complaints so stale 
 now, that they serve no other purpose in the world but to 
 make a joke." 
 
 " Those, however, who can laugh at them, must have 
 notions of merriment very different to mine. And this 
 poor woman, whose cause I have ventured to undertake, 
 had she no family at all, must still and indisputably be an 
 object of pity herself, for she is so weak she can hardly 
 crawl, and so pallid, that she seems already half dead." 
 
 " All imposition, depend npon it ! The moment she is 
 out of your sight, her complaints will vanish." 
 
 "Nay, sir," cried Cecilia, a little impatiently, "there is 
 no reason to suspect such deceit, since she does not come 
 hither as a beggar, however well the state of beggary may 
 accord with her poverty : she only solicits the payment of 
 a bill ; and if in that there is any fraud, nothing can be so 
 easy as detection." 
 
 Mr. Harrel bit his lips at this speech, and for some 
 instants looked much disturbed ; but soon recovering 
 himself, he negligently said, " Pray how did she get at 
 you ? " 
 
 " I met her at the street door. But tell me, is not her 
 bill a just one ? " 
 
 " I cannot say ; I have never had time to look at it." 
 
 " But you know who the woman is, and that her husband
 
 CECILIA. 73 
 
 worked for you, and therefore that in all probability it is 
 right, do you not ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know who the woman is well enough ; she 
 has taken care of that, for she has pestered me every day 
 these nine months." 
 
 Cecilia was struck dumb by this speech : hitherto she 
 had supposed that the dissipation of his life kept him 
 ignorant of his own injustice ; but when she found he was 
 so well informed of it, yet, with such total indifference, 
 could suffer a poor woman to claim a just debt every day 
 for nine months together, she was shocked and astonished 
 beyond measure. They were both some time silent, and 
 then Mr. Harrel, yawning and stretching out his arms, 
 indolently asked, " Pray why does not the man come 
 himself?" 
 
 " Did I not tell you," answered Cecilia, staring at so 
 absent a question, " that he was very ill, and unable even to 
 work ? " 
 
 " Well, when he is better," added he, moving towards 
 the door, " he may call, and I will talk to him." 
 
 Cecilia, all amazement at this unfeeling behaviour, 
 turned involuntarily to Mr. Arnott, with a countenance 
 that appealed for his assistance; but Mr. Arnott hung 
 his head, ashamed to meet her eyes, and abruptly left the 
 room. 
 
 Mean time Mr. Harrel, half turning back, though with- 
 out looking Cecilia in the face, carelessly said, "Well, 
 won't you come ? " 
 
 ' No, sir," answered she, coldly. 
 
 He then returned to the library, leaving her equally dis- 
 pleased, surprised and disconcerted at the conversation 
 which had just passed between them. " Good heaven," 
 cried she to herself, " what strange, what cruel insensi- 
 bility ! to suffer a wretched family to starve, from an 
 obstinate determination to assert that they can live ! to 
 distress the poor by retaining the recompence for which 
 alone they labour, and which at last they must have, 
 merely from indolence, forgetfulness, or insolence ! O how 
 little did my uncle know, how little did I imagine to what 
 a guardian I was entrusted ! " She now felt ashamed even 
 to return to the poor woman, though she resolved to do all
 
 74 CECILIA. 
 
 in her power to soften her disappointment, and relieve her 
 distress. 
 
 But before she had quitted the room, one of the servants 
 came to tell her that his master begged the honour of her 
 company up stairs. " Perhaps he relents!" thought she; 
 and pleased with the hope, readily obeyed the summons. 
 
 She found him, his lady, Sir Robert Floyer, and two 
 other gentlemen, all earnestly engaged in an argument over 
 a large table, which, was covered with plans and elevations 
 of small buildings. 
 
 Mr. Harrel immediately addressed her with an air of 
 vivacity, and said " You are very good for coming ; we can 
 settle nothing without your advice ; pray look at these 
 different plans for our theatre, and tell us -which is the 
 best." 
 
 Cecilia advanced not a step : the sight of plans for new 
 edifices when the workmen were yet unpaid for old ones, 
 the cruel wantonness of raising fresh fabrics of expensive 
 luxury, while those so lately built had brought their neg- 
 lected labourers to ruin, excited an indignation she scarce 
 thought right to repress : while the easy sprightliness of 
 the director of these revels, to whom but the moment 
 before she had represented the oppression of which they 
 made him guilty, filled her with aversion and disgust : and, 
 recollecting the charge given her by the stranger at the 
 Opera rehearsal, she resolved to speed her departure to 
 another house, internally repeating, "Yes, I will save myself 
 from the impending destruction of unfeeling prosperity ! " 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, surprised at her silence and extreme 
 gravity, enquired if she was not well, and why she had put 
 off her visit to Miss Larolles ? And Sir Robert Floyer, 
 turning suddenly to look at her, said, " Do you begin to 
 feel the London air already ? " 
 
 Cecilia endeavoured to recover her serenity, and answer 
 these questions in her usual manner ; but she persisted in 
 declining to give any opinion at all about the plans, and, 
 after slightly looking at them, left the room. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, who knew better how to account for her be- 
 haviour than he thought proper to declare, saw with 
 concern that she was more seriously displeased, than he 
 had believed an occuri*ence which he had regarded as
 
 CECILIA. 75 
 
 wholly unimportant, could have made her : and therefore, 
 desirous that she should be appeased, he followed her out 
 of the library, and said " Miss Beverley, will to-morrow be 
 soon enough for your protegee ?" 
 
 " yes, no doubt ! " answered she, most agreeably sur- 
 prised by the question. 
 
 " Well, then, will you take the trouble to bid her come 
 to me in the morning ? " 
 
 Delighted at this unexpected commission, she thanked 
 him with smiles for the office ; and as she hastened down 
 stairs to cheer the poor expectant with the welcome intelli- 
 gence, she framed a thousand excuses for the part he had 
 hitherto acted, and without any difficulty, persuaded herself 
 he began to see the faults of his conduct, and to meditate a 
 reformation. 
 
 She was received by the poor creature she so warmly 
 wished to serve with a countenance already so much enli- 
 vened, that she fancied Mr. Harrel had himself anticipated 
 her intended information : this, however, she found was 
 not the case, for as soon as she heard his message, she 
 shook her head and said, " Ah, madam, his honour always 
 says to-morrow ! but I can better bear to be disappointed 
 now, so I'll grumble no more ; for indeed, madam, I have 
 been blest enough to-day to comfort me for every thing in 
 the world, if I could but keep from thinking of poor 
 Billy ! I could bear all the rest, madam, but whenever 
 my other troubles go off, that comes back to me so much 
 the harder ! " 
 
 " There, indeed, I can afford you no relief," said Cecilia, 
 " but you must try to think less of him, and more of your 
 husband and children who are now alive. To-morrow you 
 will receive your money, and that, I hope, will raise your 
 spirits. And pray let your husband have a physician, to 
 tell you how to nurse and manage him : I will give you 
 one fee for him now, and if he should want further advice, 
 don't fear to let me know." 
 
 Cecilia had again taken out her purse, but Mrs. Hill, 
 clasping her hands, called out " Oh, madam, no ! I don't 
 come here to fleece such goodness ! but blessed be the hour 
 that brought me here to-day, and if my poor Billy was 
 alive, he should help me to thank you ! "
 
 76 CECILIA. 
 
 She then told her that she was now quite rich, for while 
 she was gone, a gentleman had come into the room, who 
 had given her five guineas. 
 
 Cecilia, by her description, soon found this gentleman 
 \vas Mr. Arnott, and a charity so sympathetic with her 
 own, failed not to raise him greatly in her favour. But as 
 her benevolence was a stranger to that parade which is 
 only liberal from emulation, when she found more money 
 not immediately wanted, she put up her purse, and charg- 
 ing Mrs. Hill to enquire for her the next morning when she 
 came to be paid, bid her hasten back to her sick husband. 
 
 And then, again ordering the carriage to the door, she 
 set off upon her visit to Miss Larolles, with a heart happy 
 in the good already done, and happier still in the hope of 
 doing more. 
 
 Miss Larolles was out, and she returned home ; for she 
 was too sanguine in her expectations from Mr. Harrel, to 
 have any desire of seeking her other guardians. The rest 
 of the day she was more than usually civil to him, with a 
 view to mark her approbation of his good intentions ; while 
 Mr. Arnott, gratified by meeting the smiles he so much 
 valued, thought his five guineas amply repaid, inde- 
 pendently of the real pleasure which he took in doing 
 good. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A PROVOCATION. 
 
 HPHE next morning, when breakfast was over, Cecilia 
 *~ waited with much impatience to hear some tidings of 
 the poor carpenter's wife ; but though Mr. Harrel, who 
 had always that meal in his own room, came into his lady's 
 at his usual hour, to see what was going forward, he did 
 not mention her name. She therefore went into the hall 
 herself, to enquire among the servants if Mrs. Hill was 
 yet come ? 
 
 Yes, they answered, and had seen their master, and was 
 gone.
 
 CECILIA. 77 
 
 She then returned to the breakfast room, where her 
 eagerness to procure some information detained her, though 
 the entrance of Sir Robert Floyer made her wish to retire. 
 But she was wholly at a loss whether to impute to general 
 forgetfulness, or to the failure of performing his promise, 
 the silence of Mr. Harrel upon the subject of her petition. 
 
 In a few minutes they were visited by Mr. Morrice, who 
 said he called to acquaint the ladies that the next morning 
 there was to be a rehearsal of a very grand new dance at 
 the Opera-House, where, though admission was difficult, if 
 it was agreeable to them to go, he would undertake to in- 
 troduce them. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel happened to be engaged, and therefore de- 
 clined the offer. He then turned to Cecilia, and said, 
 " Well, ma'am, when did you see our friend Monckton? " 
 
 "Not since the rehearsal, sir." 
 
 " He is a mighty agreeable fellow," he continued, " and 
 his house in the country is charming. One is as easy at 
 it as at home. Were you ever there, Sir Robert ? " 
 
 " ~Not I, truly," replied Sir Robert ; " what should I go 
 for ? to see an old woman with never a tooth in her head 
 sitting at the top of the table ! Faith I'd go a hundred 
 miles a day for a month never to see such a sight again." 
 
 " 0, but you don't know how well she does the honours," 
 said Morrice ; " and for my part, except just at meal times, 
 I always contrive to keep out of her way." 
 
 " I wonder when she intends to die," said Mr. Harrel. 
 
 " She's been a long time about it," cried Sir Robert ; 
 " but those tough old cats last for ever. We all thought 
 she was going when Monckton married her ; however, if he 
 had not managed like a driveller, he might have broke her 
 heart nine years ago." 
 
 "I am sure I wish he had," cried Mrs. Harrel, "for she's 
 an odious creature, and used always to make me afraid of 
 her." 
 
 " But an old woman," answered Sir Robert, "is a person 
 who has no sense of decency ; if once she takes to living, 
 the devil himself can't get rid of her." 
 
 " I dare say," cried Morrice, " She'll pop off before long 
 in one of those fits of the asthma. I assure you sometimes, 
 you may hear her wheeze a mile off."
 
 78 CECILIA. 
 
 " She'll go never the sooner for that," said Sir Robert, 
 " for I have got an old aunt of my own, who has been 
 puffing and blowing as if she was at her last gasp ever 
 since I can remember ; and for all that, only yesterday, 
 when I asked her doctor when she'd give up the ghost, he 
 told me she might live these dozen years." 
 
 Cecilia was by no means sorry to have this brutal con- 
 versation interrupted by the entrance of a servant with a 
 letter for her. She was immediately retiring to read it ; 
 but upon the petition of Mr. Monckton, who just them 
 came into the room, she only went to a window. The 
 letter was as follows : 
 
 To 
 
 Miss, 
 at his Honour Squire Harrel's, 
 
 These. 
 Honoured Madam, 
 
 THIS with my humble duty. His Honour has given 
 me nothing. But I would not be troublesome, having 
 wherewithal to wait, so conclude, 
 
 Honoured Madam, 
 Your dutiful servant to command, 
 till death, 
 
 M. HILL. 
 
 The vexation with which Cecilia read this letter was 
 visible to the whole company; and while Mr. Arnott looked 
 at her with a wish of enquiry he did not dare express, and Mr. 
 Monckton, under an appearance of inattention, concealed 
 the most anxious curiosity ; Mr. Morrice alone had courage 
 to interrogate her, and, pertly advancing, said, " He is a 
 happy man who writ that letter, ma'am, for I am sure you 
 have not read it with indifference." 
 
 " Were I the writer," said Mr. Arnott, tenderly, " I 
 am sure I should reckon myself far otherwise, for Miss 
 Beverley seems to have read it with uneasiness." 
 
 " However I have read it," answered she, " I assure you 
 it is not from any man." 
 
 " O pray, Miss Beverley," cried Sir Robert, coming for- 
 ward, " are you any better to-day ?" 
 
 "No, Sir, for I have not been ill."
 
 CECILIA. 79 
 
 " A little vapoured, I thought, yesterday ; perhaps you 
 want exercise." 
 
 "I wish the ladies would put themselves under my care," 
 cried Morrice, " and take a turn round the park." 
 
 "I don't doubt you, sir," said Mr. Monckton, contemptu- 
 ously, "and, but for the check of modesty, probably there 
 is not a man here who would not wish the same." 
 
 " I could propose a much better scheme than that," 
 said Sir Robert ; " what if you all walk to Harley- street, 
 and give me your notions of a house I am about there ? 
 what say you, Mrs. Harrel ? " 
 
 " O, I shall like it vastly." 
 
 "Done," cried Mr. Harrel ; " 'tis an excellent notion." 
 
 " Come then," said Sir Robert, " let's be off. Miss 
 Beverley, I hope you have a good warm cloak ? " 
 
 " I must beg you to excuse my attending you, sir." 
 
 Mr. Monckton, who had heard this proposal with the 
 utmost dread of its success, revived at the calm steadiness 
 with which it was declined. Mr. and Mrs. Harrel both 
 teased Cecilia to consent; but the haughty Baronet, evidently 
 more offended than hurt by her refusal, pressed the matter 
 no further, either with her or the rest of the party, and the 
 scheme was dropt entirely. 
 
 Mr. Monckton failed not to remark this circumstance, 
 which confirmed his suspicions, that though the proposal 
 seemed made by chance, his design was nothing else than 
 to obtain Cecilia's opinion concerning his house. But while 
 this somewhat alarmed him, the unabated insolence of his 
 carriage, and the confident defiance of his pride, still more 
 surprised him ; and notwithstanding all he observed of 
 Cecilia, seemed to promise nothing but dislike, he could 
 draw no other inference from his behaviour, than that if 
 he admired, he also concluded himself sure of her. 
 
 This was not a pleasant conjecture, however little weight 
 he allowed to it ; and he resolved, by outstaying all the 
 company, to have a few minutes private discourse with her 
 upon the subject. 
 
 In about half an hour, Sir Robert and Mr. Harrel went 
 out together : Mr. Monckton still persevered in keeping 
 his ground, and tried, though already weary, to keep up a 
 general conversation ; but what moved at once his wonder
 
 80 CECILIA. 
 
 and his indignation was the assurance of Morrice, who 
 seemed not only bent upon staying as long as himself, but 
 determined, by rattling away, to make his own entertain- 
 ment. 
 
 At length a servant came in to tell Mrs. Harrel that a 
 stranger, who was waiting in the housekeeper's room, 
 begged to speak with her upon very particular business. 
 
 " O, I know," cried she, " 'tis that odious John Groot : 
 do pray, brother, try to get rid of him for me, for he comes 
 to tease me about his bill, and I never know what to say 
 to him." 
 
 Mr. Arnott went immediately, and Mr. Monckton could 
 scarce refrain from going too, that he might entreat John 
 Groot by no means to be satisfied without seeing Mrs. Harrel 
 herself : John Groot, however, wanted not his entreaties, 
 as the servant soon returned to summon his lady to the 
 conference. 
 
 But though Mr. Monckton now seemed near the com- 
 pletion of his purpose, Morrice still remained ; his vexation 
 at this circumstance soon grew intolerable ; to see himself 
 upon the point of receiving the recompence of his perseve- 
 rance, by the fortunate removal of all the obstacles in its 
 way, and then to have it held from him by a young fellow 
 he so much despised, and who had no entrance into the 
 house but through his own boldness, and no inducement 
 to stay in it but from his own impertinence, mortified him 
 so insufferably, that it was with difficulty he even forbore 
 affronting him. ]S"or would he have scrupled a moment 
 desiring him to leave the room, had he not prudently de- 
 termined to guard with the utmost sedulity against raising 
 any suspicions of his passion for Cecilia. 
 
 He arose, however, and was moving towards her, with 
 intention to occupy a part of a sofa on which she was 
 seated, when Morrice, who was standing at the back of it, 
 with a sudden spring which made the whole room shake, 
 jumpt over, and sunk plump into the vacant place himself, 
 calling out at the same time, " Come, come, what have 
 you married men to do with young ladies ? I shall seize 
 this post for myself." 
 
 The rage of Mr. Monckton at this feat, and still more at 
 the words married men, almost exceeded endurance ; he stopt
 
 CECILIA. 81 
 
 short, and looking at him with a fierceness that over- 
 powered his discretion, was bursting out with, " Sir, you 
 are an impudent fellow ; " but checking himself when he 
 got half way, concluded with, " a very facetious gentle- 
 man ! " 
 
 Morrice, who wished nothing so little as disobliging Mr. 
 Monckton, and whose behaviour was merely the result of 
 levity, and a want of early education, no sooner perceived 
 his displeasure, than rising with yet more agility than he 
 had seated himself, he resumed the obsequiousness of which 
 an uncommon flow of spirits had robbed him, and guessing 
 no other subject for his anger than the disturbance he had 
 made, he bowed almost to the ground, first to him, and 
 afterwards to Cecilia, most respectfully begging pardon of 
 them both for his frolic, and protesting he had no notion 
 he should have made such a noise ! 
 
 Mrs. Harrel and Mr. Arnott now hastening back, en- 
 quired what had been the matter ? Morrice, ashamed of 
 his exploit, and frightened by the looks of Mr. Monckton, 
 made an apology with the utmost humility, and hurried 
 away : and Mr. Monckton, hopeless of any better fortune, 
 soon did the same, gnawn with a cruel discontent which he 
 did not dare avow, and longing to revenge himself upon 
 Morrice, even by personal chastisement. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A NARRATION. 
 
 THE moment Cecilia was at liberty, she sent her own 
 servant to examine into the real situation of the car- 
 penter and his family, and to desire his wife would call 
 upon her as soon as she was at leisure. The account which 
 he brought back encreased her concern for the injuries of 
 these poor people, and determined her not to rest satisfied 
 till she saw them redressed. He informed her that they 
 lived in a small lodging up two pair of stairs ; that there 
 were five children, all girls, the three eldest of whom were 
 hard at work with their mother in matting chair-bottoms, 
 
 G
 
 82 CECILIA. 
 
 and the fourth, though a mere child, -was nursing the 
 youngest ; while the poor carpenter himself was confined 
 to his bed, in consequence of a fall from a ladder while 
 working at Violet-Bank, by which he was covered with 
 wounds and contusions, and an object of misery and pain. 
 
 As soon as Mrs. Hill came, Cecilia sent for her into 
 her own room, where she received her with the most compas- 
 sionate tenderness, and desired to know when Mr. Harrel 
 talked of paying her. 
 
 " To-morrow, madam," she answered, shaking her head, 
 " that is always his honour's speech : but I shall bear it 
 while I can. However, though I dare not tell his honour, 
 something bad will come of it, if I am not paid soon." 
 
 " Do you mean, then, to apply to the law ? " 
 
 " I must not tell you, madam ; but to be sure we have 
 thought of it many a sad time and often ; but still, while 
 we could rub on, we thought it best not to make enemies : 
 but, indeed, madam, his honour was so hardhearted this 
 morning, that if I was not afraid you would be angry, I 
 could not tell how to bear it ; for when I told him I had 
 no help now, for I had lost my Billy, he had the heart to 
 say, so much the better, there's one the less of you." 
 
 " But what," cried Cecilia, extremely shocked by this 
 unfeeling speech, " is the reason he gives for disappointing 
 yon so often ? " 
 
 " He says, madam, that none of the other workmen are 
 paid yet ; and that, to be sure, is very true ; but then they 
 can all better afford to wait than we can, for we were 
 the poorest of all, madam, and have been misfortunate 
 from the beginning : and his honour would never have 
 employed us, only he had run up such a bill with Mr. 
 Wright, that he would not undertake any thing more till 
 he was paid. "We were told from the first we should not 
 get our money ; but we were willing to hope for the best, 
 for we had nothing to do, and were hard run, and had never 
 had the offer of so good a job before ; and we had a great 
 family to keep, and many losses, and so much illness ! Oh, 
 madam ! if you did but know what the poor go through ! " 
 
 This speech opened to Cecilia a new view of life ; that a 
 young man could appear so gay and happy, yet be guilty 
 of such injustice and inhumanity ; that he could take
 
 CECILIA. 83 
 
 pride in works which not even money had made his own, 
 and live with undiminished splendour, when his credit itself 
 began to fail, seemed to her incongruities so irrational, 
 that hitherto she had supposed them impossible. 
 
 She then enquired if her husband had yet had any 
 physician ? 
 
 " Yes, madam, I humbly thank your goodness," she 
 answered ; " but I am not the poorer for that, for the gen- 
 tleman was so kind he would take nothing." 
 
 " And does he give you any hopes ? what does he say ? " 
 
 " He says he must die, madam ! but I knew that 
 before." 
 
 " Poor woman ! and what will you do then ? " 
 
 " The same, madam, as I did when I lost my Billy, work 
 on the harder ! " 
 
 " Good heaven, how severe a lot ! but tell me, why is it 
 you seem to love your Billy so much better than the rest 
 of your children ! " 
 
 "Because, madam, he was the only boy that ever I 
 had ; he was seventeen years old, madam, and as tall and 
 as pretty a lad ! and so good, that he never cost me a wet 
 eye till I lost him. He worked with his father, and all the 
 folks used to say he was the better workman of the two." 
 
 " And what was the occasion of his death ? " 
 
 " A consumption, madam, that wasted him quite to no- 
 thing : and he was ill a long time, and cost us a deal of 
 money, for we spared neither for wine nor any thing, that 
 we thought would but comfort him ; and we loved him so 
 we never grudged it. But he died, madam ! and if it had 
 not been for very hard work, the loss of him would quite 
 have broke my heart." l 
 
 1 " Madame D'Arblay was most successful in comedy, and indeed in 
 comedy which bordered on farce. But we are inclined to infer from 
 some passages, both in Cecilia and Camilla, that she might have 
 
 attained equal distinction in the pathetic We would mention as 
 
 examples, Mrs. Hill's account of her little boy's * death in Cecilia, and 
 the parting of Sir Hugh Tyrold and Camilla, when the honest baronet 
 thinks himself dying." MACAULAY. 
 
 Madame de la Fite " could only talk of her dear Elise.f She compared 
 
 * This is an over-sight, Billy was seventeen, 
 t A daughter she had lost.
 
 84 CECILIA. 
 
 " Try, however, to think less of him," said Cecilia ; 
 " and depend upon my speaking again for you to Mr. 
 Barrel. You shall certainly have your money ; take care, 
 therefore, of your own health, and go home and give com- 
 fort to your sick husband." 
 
 " Oh, madam," cried the poor woman, tears streaming 
 down her cheeks, " you don't know how touching it is to 
 hear gentlefolks talk so kindly ! And I have been used to 
 nothing but roughness from his honour ! But what I most 
 fear, madam, is that when my husband is gone, he will be 
 harder to deal with than ever; for a widow, madam, is 
 always hard to be righted ; and I don't expect to hold out 
 long myself, for sickness and sorrow wear fast : and then, 
 when we are both gone, who is to help our poor 
 children ? " 
 
 " I will ! " cried the generous Cecilia ; " I am able, and I 
 am willing ; you shall not find all the rich hard-hearted, 
 and I will try to make you some amends for the unkind- 
 ness you have suffered." 
 
 The poor woman, overcome by a promise so unexpected, 
 burst into a passionate fit of tears, and sobbed out her 
 thanks with a violence of emotion that frightened Cecilia 
 almost as much as it melted her. She endeavoured, by 
 reiterated assurances of assistance, to appease her, and 
 solemnly pledged her own honour that she should certainly 
 be paid the following Saturday, which was only three days 
 distant. 
 
 Mrs. Hill, when a little calmer, dried her eyes, and 
 humbly begging her to forgive a transport which she could 
 not restrain, most gratefully thanked her for the engage- 
 ment into which she had entered, protesting that she would 
 not be troublesome to her goodness as long as she could help it : 
 " j^nd I believe," she continued, " that if his honour will 
 but pay me time enough for the burial, I can make shift 
 with what I have till then. But when my poor Billy died, 
 we were sadly off indeed, for we could not bear but bury 
 
 herself with poor Mrs. Hill, who had lost her Billy, and could speak of 
 nothing without recurring to him. She had just been reading ' Cecilia,' 
 she told me, to the Princess Elizabeth ; but when she came to that 
 part, she could not go on for her tears." Diary of Mdme. D'Arblay, 
 p. 362, vol. ii.
 
 CECILIA. 85 
 
 him prettily, because it was the last we could do for him : 
 but we could hardly scrape up enough for it, and yet we all 
 went without our dinners to help forward, except the little 
 one of all. But that did not much matter, for we had no 
 great heart for eating." 
 
 " I cannot bear this ! " cried Cecilia ; " you must tell me 
 no more of your Billy ; but go home and cheer your 
 spirits, and do every thing in your power to save your 
 husband." 
 
 " I will, madam," answered the woman, " and his dying 
 prayers shall bless you, and all my children shall bless you, 
 and every night they shall pray for you. And oh that 
 Billy was but alive to pray for you too ! " 
 
 Cecilia kindly endeavoured to soothe her, but the poor 
 creature, no longer able to suppress the violence of her 
 awakened sorrows, cried out, " I must go, madam, and 
 pray for you at home, for now I have once begun crying 
 again, I don't know how to have done ! " and hurried 
 away. 
 
 Cecilia determined to make once more an effort with 
 Mr. Harrel for the payment of the bill, and if that, in two 
 days, did not succeed, to take up money for the discharge 
 of it herself, and rest all her security for reimbursement 
 upon the shame with which such a proceeding must over- 
 whelm him. Offended, however, by the repulse she had 
 already received from him, and disgusted by all she had 
 heard of his unfeeling negligence, she knew not how to 
 address him, and resolved upon applying again to Mr. 
 Arnott, who was already acquainted with the affair, for 
 advice and assistance. 
 
 Mr. Arnott, though extremely gratified that she con- 
 sulted him, betrayed by his looks an hopelessness of 
 success that damped all her expectations. He promised, 
 however, to speak to Mr. Harrel upon the subject, but the 
 promise was evidently given to oblige the fair mediatrix, 
 without any hope of advantage to the cause. 
 
 The next morning Mrs. Hill again came, and again 
 without payment was dismissed. 
 
 Mr. Arnott then, at the request of Cecilia, followed Mr. 
 Harrel into his room, to enquire into the reason of this 
 breach of promise ; they continued some time together,
 
 86 CECILIA. 
 
 and when lie returned to Cecilia, he told her, that his 
 brother had assured him. he wonld give orders to Davison, 
 his gentleman, to let her have the money the next day. 
 
 The pleasure with which she would have heard this in- 
 telligence was much checked by the grave and cold manner 
 in which it was communicated : she waited, therefore, with 
 more impatience than confidence for the result of this 
 fresh assurance. 
 
 The next morning, however, was the same as the last ; 
 Mrs. Hill came, saw Davison, and was sent away. 
 
 Cecilia, to whom she related her grievances, then flew to 
 Mr. Arnott, and entreated him to enquire at least of 
 Davison why the woman had again been disappointed. 
 
 Mr. Arnott obeyed her, and brought for answer, that 
 Davison had received no orders from his master. 
 
 " I entreat you then," cried she, with mingled eagerness 
 and vexation, " to go, for the last time, to Mr. Harrel. I 
 am sorry to impose upon you an office so disagreeable, but 
 I am sure you compassionate these poor people, and will 
 serve them now with your interest, as you have already 
 done with your purse. I only wish to know if there has 
 been any mistake, or if these delays are merely to sicken 
 me of petitioning." 
 
 Mr. Arnott, with a repugnance to the request wh'ich he 
 could as ill conceal as his admiration of the zealous re- 
 quester, again forced himself to follow Mr. Harrel. His 
 stay was not long, and Cecilia at his return perceived that 
 he was hurt and disconcerted. As soon as they were alone 
 together, she begged to know what had passed ? " No- 
 thing," answered he, "that will give you any pleasure. 
 When I entreated my brother to come to the point, he said 
 it was his intention to pay all his workmen together, for 
 that if he paid any one singly, all the rest would be dis- 
 satisfied." 
 
 " And why," said Cecilia, " should he not pay them at 
 once ? There can be no more comparison in the value of 
 the money to him and to them, than, to speak with truth, 
 there is in his and in their right to it." 
 
 " But, madam, the bills for the new house itself are 
 none of them settled, and he says that the moment he is 
 known to discharge an account for the Temple, he shall
 
 CECILIA. 87 
 
 not have any rest for the clamours it will raise among the 
 workmen who were employed about the house." 
 
 " How infinitely strange ! " exclaimed Cecilia ; " will he 
 not, then, pay anybody ?" 
 
 " Next quarter, he says, he shall pay them all, but, at 
 present, he has a particular call for his money." 
 
 Cecilia would not trust herself to make any comments 
 upon such an avowal, but, thanking Mr. Arnott for the 
 trouble which he had taken, she determined, without any 
 further application, to desire Mr. Harrel to advance her 
 20 the next morning, and satisfy the carpenter herself, 
 be the risk what it might. 
 
 The following day, therefore, which was the Saturday 
 when payment was promised, she begged an audience of 
 Mr. Harrel ; which he immediately granted ; but, before 
 she could make her demand, he said to her, with an air of 
 the utmost gaiety and good-humour. " Well, Miss Bever- 
 ley, how fares it with your protegee ? I hope, at length, 
 she is contented. But I must beg you would charge her to 
 keep her own counsel, as otherwise she will draw me into 
 a scrape I shall not thank her for." 
 
 "Have you then paid her?" cried Cecilia, with much 
 amazement. 
 
 " Yes ; I promised you I would, you know." 
 
 This intelligence equally delighted and astonished her ; 
 she repeatedly thanked him for his attention to her peti- 
 tion, and, eager to communicate her success to Mr. Arnott, 
 she hastened to find him. " Now," cried she, " I shall 
 torment you no more with painful commissions ; the Hills, 
 at last, are paid !" 
 
 " From you, madam," answered he gravely, "no com- 
 missions could be painful." 
 
 " Well but," said Cecilia, somewhat disappointed, " you 
 don't seem glad of this ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered he, with a forced smile, "I am very 
 glad to see you so." 
 
 " But how was it brought about ? did Mr. Harrel relent ? 
 or did you attack him again ? " 
 
 The hesitation of his answer convinced her there was 
 some mystery in the transaction ; she began to apprehend 
 she had been deceived, and hastily quitting the room, sent
 
 88 CECILIA. 
 
 for Mrs. Hill : but the moment the poor woman appeared, 
 she was satisfied of the contrary, for, almost frantic with 
 joy and gratitude, she immediately flung herself upon her 
 knees, to thank her benefactress for having seen her 
 righted. 
 
 Cecilia then gave her some general advice, promised to 
 continue her friend, and offered her assistance in getting 
 her husband into an hospital : but she told her he had 
 already been in one many months, where he was pro- 
 nounced incurable, and was therefore desirous to spend his 
 last days in his own lodgings. 
 
 " Well," said Cecilia, " make them as easy to him as you 
 can, and come to me next week, and I will try to put you 
 in a better way of living." 
 
 She then, still greatly perplexed about Mr. Arnott, 
 sought him again, and, after various questions and con- 
 jectures, at length brought him to confess he had himself 
 lent his brother the sum with which the Hills had been 
 paid. 
 
 Struck with his generosity, she poured forth thanks and 
 praises so grateful to his ears, that she soon gave him a 
 recompense which he would have thought cheaply pur- 
 chased by half his fortune.
 
 CECILIA. 89 
 
 BOOK II. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A MAN OF WEALTH. 
 
 *T^HE meanness with which Mr. Harrel had assumed the 
 -*- credit, as well as accepted the assistance of Mr. 
 Arnott, encreased the disgust he had already excited in 
 Cecilia, and hastened her resolution of quitting his house : 
 and therefore, without waiting any longer for the advice 
 of Mr. Monckton, she resolved to go instantly to her other 
 guardians, and see what better prospects their habitations 
 might offer. 
 
 For this purpose, she borrowed one of the carriages, and 
 gave orders to be driven into the city, to the house of 
 Mr. Briggs. 
 
 She told her name, and was shown, by a little shabby 
 foot-boy, into a parlour. 
 
 Here she waited, with tolerable patience, for half an 
 hour, but then, imagining the boy had forgotten to tell his 
 master she was in the house, she thought it- expedient to 
 make some enquiry. 
 
 No bell, however, could she find, and therefore she went 
 into the passage in search of the foot-boy ; but as she was 
 proceeding to the head of the kitchen stairs, she was 
 startled by hearing a man's voice from the upper part of 
 the house, exclaiming, in a furious passion, " Dare say you 
 have filched it for a dish-clout ! " 
 
 She called out, however, " Are any of Mr. Briggs 's 
 servants below ? " 
 
 " Anan ! " answered the boy, who came to the foot of the 
 stairs with a knife in one hand, and an old shoe, upon the
 
 90 CECILIA. 
 
 sole of which he was sharpening it, in the other, " Does any 
 one call ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Cecilia, "I do ; for I could not find the 
 bell." 
 
 " 0, we have no bell in the parlour," returned the boy, 
 "master always knocks with his stick." 
 
 " I am afraid Mr. Briggs is too busy to see me, and if so, 
 I will come another time." 
 
 " No, ma'am," said the boy, "master's only looking over 
 his things from the wash." 
 
 " Will you tell him, then, that I am waiting ? " 
 
 " I has, ma'am ; but master misses his shaving-rag, and 
 he says he won't come to the Mogul till he's found it." 
 And then he went on with sharpening his knife. 
 
 This little circumstance was at least sufficient to satisfy 
 Cecilia that if she fixed her abode with Mr. Briggs, she 
 should not have much uneasiness to fear from the sight of 
 extravagance and profusion. 
 
 She returned to the parlour, and after waiting another 
 half hour, Mr. Briggs made his appearance. 
 
 Mr. Briggs was a short, thick, sturdy man, with very 
 small keen black eyes, a square face, a dark complexion, and 
 a snub nose. His constant dress, both in winter and sum- 
 mer, was a snuff-colour suit of clothes, blue and white 
 speckled worsted stockings, a plain shirt, and a bob wig. 
 He was seldom without a stick in his hand, which he usually 
 held to his forehead when not speaking. 
 
 This bob wig, however, to the no small amazement of 
 Cecilia, he now brought into the room upon the fore-finger 
 of his left hand, while, with his right, he was smoothing 
 the curls ; and his head, in defiance of the coldness of the 
 weather, was bald and uncovered. 
 
 " Well," cried he, as he entered, " did you think should 
 not come?" 
 
 " I was very willing, sir, to wait your leisure." 
 
 " Ay, ay, knew you had not much to do. Been looking 
 for my shaving-rag. Going out of town ; never use such 
 a thing at home, paper does as well. Warrant master 
 Harrel never heard of such a thing ; ever see him comb his 
 own wig ? Warrant he don't know how ! never trust mine 
 out of my hands, the boy would tear off half the hair ; all
 
 CECILIA. 91 
 
 one to master Harrel, I suppose. Well, which is the 
 warmer man, that's all ? Will he cast an account with 
 me?" 
 
 Cecilia, at a loss what to say to this singular exordium, 
 began an apology for not waiting upon him sooner. 
 
 " Ay, ay," cried he, " always gadding, no getting sight 
 of you. Live a fine life ! A pretty guardian master 
 Harrel ! and where's t'other ? where's old Don Puffabout ? " 
 
 " If you mean Mr. Del vile, sir, I have not yet seen 
 him." 
 
 " Thought so. No matter : as well not. Only tell you 
 he's a German Duke, or a Spanish Don Ferdinand. Well 
 you've me ! poorly off else. A couple of ignoramusses ! 
 don't know when to buy nor when to sell. No doing busi- 
 ness with either of them. We met once or twice ; all to 
 no purpose ; only heard Don Vampus count his old Gran- 
 dees ; how will that get interest for money ? Then comes 
 master Harrel, twenty bows to a word, looks at a watch, 
 about as big as a sixpence, poor raw ninny ! a couple 
 of rare guardians ! Well you've me, I say ; mind that ! " 
 
 Cecilia was wholly unable to devise any answer to these 
 effusions of contempt and anger ; and therefore his harangue 
 lasted without interruption, till he had exhausted all his 
 subjects of complaint, and emptied his mind of ill-will ; 
 and then, settling his wig, he drew a chair near her, and 
 twinkling his little black eyes in her face, his rage subsided 
 into the most perfect good-humour ; and, after peering at 
 her some time with a look of much approbation, he said, 
 with an arch nod, " Well, my duck, got ever a sweet-heart 
 yefc?" 
 
 Cecilia laughed, and said "No." 
 
 " Ah, little rogue, don't believe yon ! all a fib ! better 
 speak out : come, fit I should know ; a'n't you my own 
 ward ? to be sure almost of age, but not quite, so what's 
 that to me ? " 
 
 She then, more seriously, assured him she had no intelli- 
 gence of that sort to communicate. 
 
 " Well, when you have, tell, that's all. Warrant sparks 
 enough hankering. I'll give you some advice. Take care 
 of sharpers ; don't trust shoe-buckles, nothing but Bristol 
 stones ! tricks in all things. A fine gentleman sharp as
 
 92 CECILIA. 
 
 another man. Never give your heart to a gold-topped cane, 
 nothing but brass gilt over. Cheats every where ; fleece 
 you in a year ; won't leave you a groat. But one way to 
 be safe, bring 'em all to me." 
 
 Cecilia thanked him for his caution, and promised not to 
 forget his advice. 
 
 " That's the way," he continued, " bring 'em to me. 
 Won't be bamboozled. Know their tricks. Show 'em the 
 odds on't. Ask for the rent-roll, see how they'll look ! 
 stare like stuck pigs ! got no such thing." 
 
 " Certainly, sir, that will be an excellent method of trial." 
 
 "Ay, ay, know the way ! soon find if they are above par. 
 Be sure don't mind gold waistcoats ; nothing but tinsel, all 
 show and no substance ; better leave the matter to me ; take 
 care of you myself ; know where to find one will do." 
 
 She again thanked him ; and, being fully satisfied with 
 this specimen of his conversation, and unambitious of any 
 further counsel from him, she arose to depart. 
 
 " Well," repeated he, nodding at her with a look of much 
 kindness, " leave it to me, I say ; I'll get you a careful hus- 
 band, so take no thought about the matter." 
 
 Cecilia, half laughing, begged he would not give himself 
 much trouble, and assured him she was not in any haste. 
 
 " All the better," said he, " good girl ; no fear for you : 
 look out myself; warrant I'll find one. Not very easy, 
 neither ; hard times ! men scarce ! wars and tumults ! 
 stocks low! women chargeable! but don't fear; do our 
 best; get you off soon." 
 
 She then returned to her carriage ; full of reflection upon 
 the scene in which she had just been engaged, and upon 
 the strangeness of hastening from one house to avoid a vice 
 the very want of which seemed to render another insup- 
 portable ! but she now found that though luxury was more 
 baneful in its consequences, it was less disgustful in its pro- 
 gress than avarice ; yet, insuperably averse to both, and 
 almost equally desirous to fly from the unjust extravagance 
 of Mr. Harrel, as from the comfortless and unnecessary 
 parsimony of Mr. Briggs, she proceeded instantly to St. 
 James's-square, 1 convinced that her third guardian, unless 
 
 1 It is singular that Mr. Delvile, who is only a younger son, should 
 be made to possess both the family castle, and a house in St. James's 
 Square.
 
 CECILIA. 93 
 
 exactly resembling one of the others, must inevitably be 
 preferable to both. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A MAX OF FAMILY. 
 
 THE house of Mr. Delvile was grand and spacious, fitted 
 up not with modern taste, but with the magnificence 
 of former times ; the servants were all veterans, gorgeous 
 in their liveries, and profoundly respectful in their manners ; 
 every thing had an air of state, but of a state so gloomy, 
 that while it inspired awe, it repressed pleasure. 
 
 Cecilia sent in her name, and was admitted without diffi- 
 culty, and was then ushered with great pomp through 
 sundry apartments, and rows of servants, before she came 
 into the presence of Mr. Delvile. 
 
 He received her with an air of haughty affability, which, 
 to a spirit open and liberal as that of Cecilia, could not fail 
 being extremely offensive ; but too much occupied with the 
 care of his own importance to penetrate into the feelings of 
 another, he attributed the uneasiness which his reception 
 occasioned, to the over-awing predominance of superior 
 rank and consequence. 
 
 He ordered a servant to bring her a chair, while he only 
 half rose from his own upon her entering into the room j 
 then, waving his hand and bowing, with a motion that 
 desired her to be seated, he said, " I am very happy, Miss 
 Beverley, that you have found me alone ; you would rarely 
 have had the same good fortune. At this time of day I am 
 generally in a crowd. People of large connections have 
 not mich leisure in London, especially if they see a little 
 after their own affairs, and if their estates, like mine, are 
 dispersed in various parts of the kingdom. However, I am 
 glad it happened so. And I am glad, too, that you have 
 done me the favour of calling without waiting till I sent, 
 which I really would have done as soon as I heard of your 
 arrival, but that the multiplicity of my engagements allowed 
 me no respite."
 
 94 CECILIA. 
 
 A display of importance so ostentations made Cecilia al- 
 ready half repent her visit, satisfied that the hope in which 
 she had planned it \vonld be frnitless. 
 
 Mr. Delvile, still imputing to embarrassment, an in- 
 quietude of countenance that proceeded merely from disap- 
 pointment, imagined her veneration was every moment 
 encreasing ; and therefore, pitying a timidity which both 
 gratified and softened him, and equally pleased with himself 
 for inspiring, and with her for feeling it, he abated more 
 and more of his greatness, till he became, at length, so in- 
 finitely condescending, with intention to give her courage, 
 that he totally depressed her with mortification and chagrin. 
 
 After some general enquiries concerning her way of life, 
 lie told her that he hoped she was contented with her situa- 
 tion at the Barrels, adding, " If you have any thing to 
 complain of, remember to whom you may appeal." He 
 then asked if she had seen Mr. Briggs ? 
 
 " Yes, sir, I am this moment come from his house." 
 
 " I am sorry for it ; his house cannot be a proper one for 
 the reception of a young lady. When the Dean made ap- 
 plication that I would be one of your guardians, I instantly 
 sent him a refusal, as is my custom upon all such occasions, 
 which indeed occur to me with a frequency extremely im- 
 portunate : but the Dean was a man for whom I had really 
 a regard, and therefore, when I found my refusal had af- 
 fected him, I suffered myself to be prevailed upon to indulge 
 him, contrary not only to my general rule, but to my incli- 
 nation." 
 
 Here he stopt, as if to receive some compliment, but 
 Cecilia, very little disposed to pay him any, went no farther 
 than an inclination of the head. 
 
 " I knew not, however," he continued, " at the time I 
 was induced to give my consent, with whom I was to be 
 associated ; nor could I have imagined the Dean so little 
 conversant with the distinctions of the world, as to disgrace 
 me with inferior coadjutors : but the moment I learnt the 
 state of the affair, I insisted upon withdrawing both my 
 name and countenance." 
 
 Here again he paused ; not in expectation of an answer 
 from Cecilia, but merely to give her time to marvel in what 
 manner he had at last been melted.
 
 CECILIA. 95 
 
 " The Dean," lie resumed, " was then very ill ; my dis- 
 pleasure, I believe, hurt him. I was sorry for it ; he was a 
 worthy man, and had not meant to offend me ; in the end, 
 I accepted his apology, and was even persuaded to accept 
 the office. You have a right, therefore, to consider yourself 
 as personally my ward : and though I do not think proper 
 to mix much with your other guardians, I shall always be 
 ready to serve and advise you, and much pleased to see 
 you." 
 
 " You do me honour, sir;" said Cecilia, extremely wearied 
 of such graciousness, and rising to be gone. 
 
 " Pray sit still," said he, with a smile ; " I have not many 
 engagements for this morning. You must give me some 
 account how you pass your time. Are you much out ? 
 The Harrels, I am told, live at a great expense. What is 
 their establishment ? " 
 
 " I don't exactly know, sir." 
 
 " They are decent sort of people, I believe ; are they 
 not?" 
 
 " I hope so, sir ! " 
 
 " And they have a tolerable acquaintance, I believe : I 
 am told so ; for I know nothing of them." 
 
 " They have, at least, a very numerous one, sir." 
 
 " Well, my dear," said he, taking her hand, " now you 
 have once ventured to come, don't be apprehensive of re- 
 peating your visits : I must introduce you to Mrs. Del vile ; 
 I am sure she will be happy to show you any kindness. 
 Come, therefore, when you please, and without scruple. I 
 would call upon you myself, but am fearful of being em- 
 barrassed by the people with whom you live." 
 
 He then rang his bell, and with the same ceremonies 
 which had attended her admittance, she was conducted 
 back to her carriage. 
 
 And here died away all hope of putting into execution, 
 during her minority, the plan of which the formation had 
 given her so much pleasure. She found that her present 
 situation, however wide of her wishes, was by no means 
 the most disagreeable in which she could be placed ; she 
 was tired, indeed, of dissipation, and shocked at the sight 
 of unfeeling extravagance ; but, notwithstanding the houses 
 of each of her other guardians were exempt from these
 
 96 CECILIA. 
 
 particular vices, she saw not any prospect of happiness 
 with either of them ; vulgarity seemed leagued with avarice 
 to drive her from the mansion of Mr. Briggs, and 
 haughtiness with ostentation to exclude her from that of 
 Mr. Delvile. 
 
 She came back, therefore, to Portman-square, disap- 
 pointed in her hopes, and sick both of those whom she 
 quitted, and of those to whom she was returning ; but in 
 going to her own apartment Mrs. Barrel, eagerly stopping 
 her, begged she would come into the drawing-room, where 
 she promised her a most agreeable sui-prise. 
 
 Cecilia, for an instant, imagined that some old acquain- 
 tance was just arrived out of the country ; but, upon her 
 entrance, she saw only Mr. Harrel and some workmen, and 
 found that the agreeable surprise was to proceed from the 
 sight of an elegant awning, prepared for one of the inner 
 apartments, to be fixed over a long dessert-table, which was 
 to be ornamented with various devices of cut glass. 
 
 " Did you ever see any thing so beautiful in your life ? " 
 cried Mrs. Harrel ; " and when the table is covered with 
 the coloured ices, and those sort of things, it will be as 
 beautiful again. We shall have it ready for Tuesday 
 se'nnight." 
 
 " I understood you were engaged to go to the mas- 
 querade ?" 
 
 " So we shall; only we intend to see masks at home first." 
 
 "I have some thoughts," said Mr. Harrel, leading the 
 way to another small room, " of running up a flight of 
 steps, and a little light gallery here, and so making a little 
 orchestra. What would such a thing come to, Mr. 
 Tomkins ? " 
 
 " 0, a trifle, sir," answered Mr. Tomkins, " a mere 
 nothing." 
 
 " Well, then, give orders for it, and let it be done 
 directly. I don't care how slight it is, but pray let it be 
 very elegant. Won't it be a great addition, Miss 
 Beverley ? " 
 
 " Indeed, sir, I don't think it seems to be very neces- 
 sary," said Cecilia ; who wished much to take that moment 
 for reminding him of the debt he had contracted with Mr. 
 Arnott.
 
 CECILIA. 97 
 
 " Lord, Miss Beverley is so grave ! " cried Mrs. Harrel ; 
 " nothing of this sort gives her any pleasure." 
 
 " She has indeed," answered Cecilia, trying to smile, 
 " not much taste for the pleasure of being always sur- 
 rounded by workmen." 
 
 And, as soon as she was able, she retired to her room, 
 feeling, both on the part of Mr. Arnott and the Hills, a 
 resentment at the injustice of Mr. Harrel, which fixed her 
 in the resolution of breaking through that facility of com- 
 pliance, which had hitherto confined her disapprobation to 
 her own breast, and venturing, henceforward, to mark the 
 opinion she entertained of his conduct, by consulting no- 
 thing but reason and principle in her own. 
 
 Her first effort towards this change was made imme- 
 diately, in begging to be excused from accompanying Mrs. 
 Harrel to a large card assembly that evening. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, extremely surprised, asked a thousand 
 times the reason of her refusal, imagining it to proceed 
 from some very extraordinary cause ; nor was she, without 
 the utmost difficulty, persuaded at last that she merely 
 meant to pass one evening by herself. 
 
 But the next day, when the refusal was repeated, she 
 was still more incredulous ; it seemed to her impossible 
 that any one who had the power to be encircled with com- 
 pany, could by choice spend a second afternoon alone ; and 
 she was so urgent in her request to be entrusted with the 
 secret, that Cecilia found no way left to appease her, but 
 by frankly confessing she was weary of eternal visiting, 
 and sick of living always in a crowd. 
 
 " Suppose, then," cried she, " I send for Miss Larolles to 
 come and sit with you ? " 
 
 Cecilia, not without laughing, declined this proposal, 
 assuring her that no such assistant was necessary for her 
 entertainment : yet it was not till after a long contention 
 that she was able to convince her there would be no cruelty 
 in leaving her by herself. 
 
 The following day, however, her trouble diminished ; for 
 Mrs. Harrel, ceasing to be surprised, thought little more of 
 the matter, and forebore any earnestness of solicitation ; 
 and, from that time, she suffered her to follow her own 
 humour with very little opposition. Cecilia was much 
 
 H
 
 98 CECILIA. 
 
 I 
 
 concerned to find her so unmoved ; and not less disap- 
 pointed at the indifference of Mr. Harrel, \vho, being 
 seldom of the same parties -with his lady, and seeing her 
 too rarely either to communicate or hear any domestic 
 occurrences, far from being struck, as she had hoped, with 
 the new way in which she passed her time, was scarce 
 sensible of the change, and interfered not upon the 
 subject. 
 
 Sir Robert Floyer, who continued to see her when he 
 dined in Portman-square, often enquired what she did 
 with herself in an evening ; but never obtaining any satis- 
 factory answer, he concluded her engagements were with 
 people to whom he was a stranger. 
 
 Poor Mr. Arnott felt the cruellest disappointment in 
 being deprived of the happiness of attending her in her 
 evenings' expeditions, when, whether he conversed with 
 her or not, he was sure of the indulgence of seeing and 
 hearing her. 
 
 But the greatest sufferer from this new regulation was 
 Mr. Monckton, who, unable any longer to endure the mor- 
 tifications of which his morning visits to Portman-square 
 had been productive, determined not to trust his temper 
 with such provocations in future, but rather to take his 
 chance of meeting with her elsewhere : for which purpose, 
 he assiduously frequented all public places, and sought 
 acquaintance with every family and every person he be- 
 lieved to be known to the Harrels : but his patience was 
 unrewarded, and his diligence unsuccessful ; he met with 
 her nowhere, and, while he continued his search, fancied 
 every evil power was at work to lead him whither he was 
 sure never to find her. 
 
 Meanwhile Cecilia passed her time greatly to her own 
 satisfaction. Her first care was to assist and comfort the 
 Hills. She went herself to their lodgings ; ordered and 
 paid for whatever the physician prescribed to the sick man ; 
 gave clothes to the children ; and money and various neces- 
 saries to the wife. She found that the poor carpenter was 
 not likely to languish much longer, and therefore, for the 
 present, only thought of alleviating his sufferings, by pro- 
 curing him such indulgencies as were authorised by his 
 physician, and enabling his family to abate so much of
 
 CECILIA. 99 
 
 tlieir labour as was requisite for obtaining time to nurse 
 and attend him ; but she meant, as soon as the last duties 
 should be paid him, to assist his survivors in attempting to 
 follow some better and more profitable business. 
 
 Her next solicitude was to furnish herself with a well- 
 chosen collection of books ; and this employment, which to 
 a lover of literature, young and ardent in its pursuit, is 
 perhaps the mind's first luxury, proved a source of enter- 
 tainment so fertile and delightful that it left her nothing 
 to wish. 
 
 She confined not her acquisitions to the limits of her 
 present power, but, as she was laying in a stock for future 
 as well as immediate advantage, she was restrained by no 
 expense from gratifying her taste and her inclination. She 
 had now entered the last year of her minority, and there- 
 fore had not any doubt that her guardians would permit 
 her to take up whatever sum she should require for such a 
 purpose. 
 
 And thus, in the exercise of charity, the search of know- 
 ledge, and the enjoyment of quiet, serenely in innocent 
 philosophy passed the hours of Cecilia. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A MASQUERADE. 
 
 r I ^HE first check this tranquillity received was upon the 
 J- day of the masquerade, the preparations for which 
 have been already mentioned. The whole house was then 
 in commotion, from various arrangements and improve- 
 ments which were planned for almost every apartment that 
 was to be opened for the reception of masks. Cecilia her- 
 self, however little pleased with the attendant circumstance 
 of wantonly accumulating unnecessary debts, was not the 
 least animated of the party ; she was a stranger to every 
 diversion of this sort, and from the novelty of the scene, 
 hoped for uncommon satisfaction. 
 
 At noon Mrs. Harrel sent for her to consult upon a new
 
 100 CECILIA. 
 
 scheme which occurred to Mr. Harrel, of fixing in fantastic 
 forms some coloured lamps in the drawing room. 
 
 While they were all discoursing this matter over, one of 
 the servants, who had two or three times whispered some 
 message to Mr. Harrel, and then retired, said, in a voice 
 not too low to be heard by Cecilia, " Indeed, sir, I can't 
 get him away." 
 
 " He's an insolent scoundrel," answered Mr. Harrel ; 
 "however, if I must speak to him, I must ;" and went out 
 of the room. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel still continued to exercise her fancy upon 
 this new project, calling both upon Mr. Arnott aud Cecilia 
 to admire her taste and contrivance ; till they were all 
 interrupted by the loudness of a voice from below stairs, 
 which frequently repeated, " Sir, I can wait no longer ! I 
 have been put off till I can be put off no more ! " 
 
 Startled by this, Mrs. Harrel ceased her employment, 
 and they all stood still and silent. They then heard Mr. 
 Harrel with much softness answer, " Good Mr. Rawlins, 
 have a little patience ; I shall receive a large sum of money 
 to-morrow, or next day, and you may then depend npcn 
 being paid." 
 
 " Sir," cried the man, " you have so often told me the 
 same, that it goes just for nothing : I have had a right to 
 it a long time, and I have a bill to make up that can't be 
 waited for any longer." 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Rawlins," replied Mr. Harrel, with still 
 increasing gentleness, " and certainly you shall have it : 
 nobody means to dispute your right; I only beg you to 
 wait a day, or two days at furthest, and you may then 
 depend upon being paid. And you shall not be the worse 
 for obliging me ; I will never employ anybody else, and I 
 shall have occasion for you very soon, as I intend to make 
 some alterations at Violet-Bank that will be very con- 
 siderable." 
 
 " Sir," said the man, still louder, " it is of no use your 
 employing me, if I can never get my money : All my 
 workmen must be paid whether I am or no ; and so, if I 
 must needs speak to a lawyer, why there's no help for it." 
 
 " Did you ever hear anything so impertinent ? " ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Harrel ; " I am sure Mr. Harrel will be very
 
 CECILIA. 101 
 
 much to blame, if ever he lets that man do any thing more 
 for him." 
 
 Just then Mr. Harrel appeared, and, with an air of 
 affected unconcern, said, *' Here's the most insolent rascal 
 of a mason below stairs I ever met with in my life ; he has 
 come upon me, quite unexpectedly, with a bill of 400, and 
 won't leave the house without the money. Brother Arnott, 
 1 wish you would do me the favour to speak to the fellow, 
 for I could not bear to stay with him any longer." 
 
 " Do you wish me to give him a draught for the money 
 upon my own banker ? " 
 
 " That would be vastly obliging," answered Mr. Harrel, 
 " and I will give you my note for it directly. And so we 
 shall get rid of this fellow at once : and he shall do nothing 
 more for me as long as he lives. I will run up a new 
 building at Violet-Bank next summer, if only to show him 
 what a job he has lost." 
 
 " Pay the man at once, there's a good brother," cried 
 Mrs. Harrel, " and let's hear no more of him." 
 
 The two gentlemen then retired to another room, and 
 Mrs. Harrel, after praising the extreme good-nature of her 
 brother, of whom she was very fond, and declaring that 
 the mason's impertinence had quite frightened her, again 
 returned to her plan of new decorations. 
 
 Cecilia, amazed at this indifference to the state of her 
 husband's affairs, began to think it was her own duty to 
 talk with her upon the subject : and therefore, after a 
 silence so marked that Mrs. Harrel enquired into its 
 reason, she said, " Will you pardon me, my dear friend, if 
 I own I am rather surprised to see you continue these 
 preparations ? " 
 
 " Lord, why ? " 
 
 "Because, any fresh unnecessary expenses just now, till 
 Mr. Harrel actually receives the money he talks of " 
 
 " Why, my dear, the expense of such a thing as this is 
 nothing; in Mr. Barrel's affairs I assure you it will not be 
 at all felt. Besides, he expects money so soon, that it is 
 just the same as if he had it already." 
 
 Cecilia, unwilling to be too officious, began then to ex- 
 press her admiration of the goodness and generosity of Mr. 
 Arnott ; taking frequent occasion, in the course of her
 
 102 CECILIA. 
 
 praise, to insinuate that those only can be properly liberal, 
 who are just and economical. 
 
 She had prepared no masquerade habit for this evening, 
 as Mrs. Harrel, by whose direction she was guided, informed 
 her it was not necessary for ladies to be masked at home, and 
 said she should receive her company herself in a dress 
 which she might wear upon any other occasion. Mr. Harrel, 
 also, and Mr. Arnott made not any alteration in their ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 At about eight o'clock the business of the evening began ; 
 and before nine, there were so many masks that Cecilia 
 wished she had herself made one of the number, as she was 
 far more conspicuous in being almost the only female in a 
 common dress, than any masquerade habit could have made 
 her. The novelty of the scene, however, joined to the general 
 air of gaiety diffused throughout the company, shortly 
 lessened her embarrassment ; and after being somewhat 
 familiarised to the abruptness with which the masks ap- 
 proached her, and the freedom with which they looked at 
 or addressed her, the first confusion of her situation sub- 
 sided, and in her curiosity to watch others, she ceased to 
 observe how much she was watched herself. 
 
 Her expectations of entertainment were not only fulfilled 
 but surpassed ; the variety of dresses, the medley of cha- 
 racters, the quick succession of figures, and the ludicrous 
 mixture of groups, kept her attention unwearied : while 
 the conceited efforts at wit, the total thoughtlessness of 
 consistency, and the ridiculous incongruity of the lan- 
 guage with the appearance, were incitements to surprise 
 and diversion without end. Even the local cant of, Do you 
 Tmow me ? Who are you ? and I know you ; with the sly 
 pointing of the finger, the arch nod of the head, and the 
 pert squeak of the voice, though wearisome to those who 
 frequent such assemblies, were, to her unhackneyed observa- 
 tion, additional subjects of amusement. 
 
 Soon after nine o'clock, every room was occupied, and 
 the common crowd of regular masqueraders were dispersed 
 through the various apartments. Dominos of no character, 
 and fancy-dresses of no meaning, made, as is usual at such 
 meetings, the general herd of the company : for the rest, 
 the men were Spaniards, chimney-sweepers, Turks, watch-
 
 CECILIA. 103 
 
 men, conjurers, and old women ; and the ladies, shep- 
 herdesses, orange girls, Circassians, gipseys, haymakers, 
 and sultanas. 1 
 
 Cecilia had, as yet, escaped any address beyond the cus- 
 tomary enquiry of Do you know me ? and a few passing 
 compliments ; but when the rooms filled, and the general 
 crowd gave general courage, she was attacked in a manner 
 more pointed and singular. 
 
 The very first mask who approached her, seemed to have 
 nothing less in view than preventing the approach of every 
 other : yet had he little reason to hope favour for himself, 
 as the person he represented, of all others least alluring 
 to the view, was the devil ! He was black from head to 
 foot, save that two red horns seemed to issue from his fore- 
 head ; his face was so completely covered, that the sight 
 only of his eyes was visible, his feet were cloven, and 
 in his right hand he held a wand the colour of fire. 
 
 Waving this wand as he advanced towards Cecilia, he 
 cleared a semi-circular space before her chair, thrice with 
 the most profound reverence bowed to her, thrice turned 
 himself around with sundry grimaces, and then fiercely 
 planted himself at her side. 
 
 Cecilia was amused by his mummery, but felt no great 
 delight in his guardianship, and, after a short time, arose, 
 with intention to walk to another place ; but the black 
 gentleman, adroitly moving round her, held out his hand 
 to obstruct her passage; and therefore, preferring captivity 
 to resistance, she was again obliged to seat herself. 
 
 An Hotspur, who just then made his appearance, was 
 strutting boldly towards her ; but the devil, rushing fu- 
 riously forwards, placed himself immediately between them. 
 Hotspur, putting his arms a-kembo with an air of defiance, 
 
 1 " In the evening we went to Lady Townshend's, who let in masques, 
 and a great number she had. Lady Viliiers was a sultana, as fine as 
 any Eastern princess I ever redde of, a most immense profusion of 
 diamonds all over her. Miss Dutton was a fine figure in the character 
 of Almeda ; there was a most jolly party of milkmaids with the May- 
 day garland, Sir Watkin Williams Wynne carried the pail, and was a 
 most excellent figure. Lady Williams Wynne, Lady Francis Wyndham, 
 and another danced round the pail in true milkmaid style." MRS. 
 HARRIS in the Letters of the first Lord Malmesbury. Mrs. Harris, who 
 was wife of the author of " Hermes," spelt, as he did, "redde" fur read.
 
 104 CECILIA. 
 
 gave a loud stamp with, his right foot, and then marched 
 into another room ! 
 
 The victorious devil ostentatiously waved his wand, and 
 returned to his station. 
 
 Mr. Arnott, who had never moved two yards from Cecilia, 
 knowing her too well to suppose she received any pleasure 
 from being thus distinguished, modestly advanced to offer 
 his assistance in releasing her from confinement ; but the 
 devil, again describing a circle with his wand, gave him 
 three such smart raps on the head, that his hair was dis- 
 ordered, and his face covered with powder. A general 
 laugh succeeded ; and Mr. Arnott, too diffident to brave 
 raillery, or withstand shame, retired in confusion. 
 
 The black gentleman seemed now to have all authority 
 in his own hands, and his wand was brandished with more 
 ferocity than ever, no one again venturing to invade the 
 domain he thought fit to appropriate for his own. 
 
 At length, however, a Don Quixote appeared, and every 
 mask in the room was eager to point out to him the im- 
 prisonment of Cecilia. 
 
 This Don Quixote was accoutred with tolerable exact- 
 ness, according to the description of the admirable Cer- 
 vantes ; his armour was rusty, his helmet was a barber's 
 bason, his shield a pewter dish, and his lance an old sword 
 fastened to a slim cane. His figure, tall and thin, was 
 well adapted to the character he represented ; and his 
 mask, which depicted a lean and haggard face, worn with 
 care, yet fiery with crazy passions, exhibited, with pro- 
 priety the most striking, the knight of the doleful coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 The complaints against the devil, with which immediately 
 and from all quarters he was assailed, he heard with the 
 most solemn taciturnity : after which, making a motion 
 for general silence, he stalked majestically towards Cecilia, 
 but stopping short of the limits prescribed by her guard, 
 he kissed his spear in token of allegiance, and then, slowly 
 dropping upon one knee, began the following address : 
 " Most incomparable Princess ! 
 
 THUS humbly prostrate at the feet of your divine and 
 ineffable beauty, graciously permit the most pitiful of your 
 servitors, Don Quixote De la Mancha, from your high and
 
 CECILIA. 105 
 
 tender grace, to salute the fair boards, which sustain your 
 corporeal machine." 
 
 Then, bending down his head, he kissed the floor ; after 
 which, raising himself upon his feet, he proceeded in his 
 speech. 
 
 " Report, most fair and unmatchable virgin ! daringly 
 affirmeth, that a certain discourteous person, who calleth 
 himself the devil, even now, and in thwart of your fair 
 inclinations, keepeth and detaineth your irradiant frame in 
 hostile thraldom. Suffer then, magnanimous and undescri- 
 bable lady ! that I, the most groveling of your unworthy 
 vassals, do sift the fair truth out of this foul sieve, and con- 
 jure your highness veritably to inform me, if that honourable 
 chair, which haply supports your terrestrial perfections, 
 containeth the inimitable burthen with the free and legal 
 consent of your celestial spirit ? " 
 
 Here he ceased : and Cecilia, who laughed at this cha- 
 racteristic address, though she had not courage to answer 
 it, again made an effort to quit her place, but again by the 
 wand of her black persecutor was prevented. 
 
 This little incident was answer sufficient for the valorous 
 knight, who indignantly exclaimed, 
 " Sublime Lady ! 
 
 I BESEECH but of your exquisite mercy to refrain moul- 
 dering the clay composition of my unworthy body to 
 impalpable dust, by the refulgence of those bright stars 
 vulgarly called eyes, till I have lawfully wreaked my ven- 
 geance upon this unobliging caitiff, for his most disloyal 
 obstruction of your highness's adorable pleasure." 
 
 Then, bowing low, he turned from her, and thus addressed 
 his intended antagonist : 
 
 " Uncourtly Miscreant ! 
 
 THE black garment which envelopeth thy most unplea- 
 sant person, seemeth even of the most ravishing whiteness, 
 in compare of the black bile which floateth within thy sable 
 exterior. Behold, then, my gauntlet ! yet ere I deign to 
 be the instrument of thy extirpation, O thou most mean 
 and ignoble enemy ! that the honour of Don Quixote de la 
 Mancha may not be sullied by thy extinction, I do here 
 confer upon thee the honour of knighthood, dubbing thee, 
 by my own sword, Don Devil, knight of the horrible phy- 
 siognomy."
 
 106 CECILIA. 
 
 He then attempted to strike "his shoulder with his spear, 
 but the black gentleman adroitly eluding the blow, defended 
 himself with his wand : a mock fight ensued, conducted on 
 both sides with admirable dexterity ; bat Cecilia, less eager 
 to view it than to become again a free agent, made her 
 escape into another apartment ; while the rest of the ladies, 
 though they almost all screamed, jumped npon chairs and 
 sofas to peep at the combat. 
 
 In conclusion, the wand of the knight of the horrible 
 physiognomy, was broken against the shield of the knight 
 of the doleful countenance ; upon which Don Quixote called 
 out Victoria ! The whole room echoed the sound ; the un- 
 fortunate new knight retired abruptly into another apart- 
 ment ; and the conquering Don, seizing the fragments of 
 the weapon of his vanquished enemy, went out in search of 
 the lady for whose releasement he had fought : and the 
 moment he found her, prostrating both himself and the 
 trophies at her feet, he again pressed the floor with his lips ; 
 and then, slowly arising, repeated his reverences with added 
 formality, and, without waiting her acknowledgments, 
 gravely retired. 
 
 The moment he departed, a Minerva, not stately, nor 
 austere, nor marching in warlike majesty, but gay and 
 airy, 
 
 Tripping on light fantastic toe, 
 
 ran up to Cecilia, and squeaked out, " Do you know me ?" 
 " " Not," answered she, instantly recollecting Miss Larolles, 
 " by your appearance, I own ! but by your voice, I think I 
 can guess you." 
 
 " I was monstrous sorry," returned the goddess, without 
 understanding this distinction, "that I was not at home 
 when you called npon me. Pray how do you like my dress ? 
 I assure you I think it's the prettiest here. But do you 
 know there's the most shocking thing in the world happened 
 in the next room ? I really believe there's a common 
 chimney-sweeper got in ! I assure you it's enough to frighten 
 one to death, for every time he moves, the soot smells so 
 you can't think ; quite real soot, I assure you ! only conceive 
 how nasty ! I declare I wish with all my heart it would 
 suffocate him ! "
 
 CECILIA. 107 
 
 Here she was interrupted by the re-appearance of Don 
 Devil ; who, looking around him, and perceiving that his 
 antagonist was gone, again advanced to Cecilia : not, how- 
 ever, with the authority of his first approach, for with his 
 wand he had lost much of his power ; but to recompense 
 himself for this disgrace, he had recourse to another method 
 equally effectual for keeping his prey to himself, for he 
 began a growling, so dismal and disagreeable, that while 
 many of the ladies, and, among the first, the Goddess of 
 Wisdom and Courage, ran away to avoid him, the men all 
 stood aloof, to watch what next was to follow. 
 
 Cecilia now became seriously uneasy ; for she was made 
 an object of general attention, yet could neither speak nor 
 be spoken to. She could suggest no motive for behaviour 
 so whimsical, though she imagined the only person who 
 could have the assurance to practise it was Sir Robert 
 Floyer. 
 
 After some time spent thus disagreeably, a white domino, 
 who for a few minutes had been a very attentive spectator, 
 suddenly came forward, and exclaiming, " Til cross him 
 though he blast me ! " rushed upon the fiend, and grasping 
 one of his horns, called out to a Harlequin who stood near 
 him, " Harlequin ! do you fear to fight the devil ?" 
 
 " Not I, truly," answered Harlequin, whose voice imme- 
 diately betrayed young Morrice, and who, issuing from the 
 crowd, whirled himself round before the black gentleman 
 with yet more agility than he had himself done before 
 Cecilia, giving him from time to time, many smart blows 
 on his shoulders, head, and back, with his wooden sword. 
 
 The rage of Don Devil at this attack seemed somewhat 
 beyond what a masquerade character rendered necessary ; 
 he foamed at the mouth with resentment, and defended 
 himself with so much vehemence, that he soon drove poor 
 Harlequin into another room : but, when he would have 
 returned to his prey, the genius of pantomime, curbed, but 
 not subdued, at the instigation of the white domino, returned 
 to the charge, and by a perpetual rotation of attack and 
 retreat, kept him in constant employment, pursuing him 
 from room to room, and teasing him without cessation or 
 mercy. 
 
 Meantime Cecilia, delighted at being released, hurried
 
 108 CECILIA. 
 
 into a corner, where she hoped to breathe and look on in 
 quiet ; and the white domino, having exhorted Harlequin 
 to torment the tormentor, and keep him at bay, followed 
 her with congratulations upon her recovered freedom. 
 
 " It is you," answered she, " I ought to thank for it, 
 which indeed I do most heartily. I was so tired of con- 
 finement, that my mind seemed almost as little at liberty 
 as my person." 
 
 "Your persecutor, I presume," said the domino, "is 
 known to you." 
 
 " I hope so," answered she, " because there is one man 
 I suspect, and I should be sorry to find there was another 
 equally disagreeable." 
 
 " O, depend upon it," cried he, " there are many who 
 would be happy to confine you in the same manner ; neither 
 have you much cause for complaint ; you have, doubtless, 
 been the aggressor, and played this game yourself without 
 mercy, for I read in your face the captivity of thousands : 
 have you, then, any right to be offended at the spirit of 
 retaliation which one, out of such numbers, has courage to 
 exert in return ? " 
 
 " I protest," cried Cecilia, " I took you for my defender! 
 whence is it you are become my accuser ? " 
 
 " From seeing the danger to which my incautious knight 
 errantry has exposed me : I begin, indeed, to take you for 
 a very mischievous sort of person ; and I fear the poor 
 devil from whom I rescued you, will be amply revenged 
 for his disgrace, by finding that the first use you make of 
 your freedom, is to doom your deliverer to bondage." 
 
 Here they were disturbed by the extreme loquacity oi 
 two opposite parties : and listening attentively, they heard 
 from one side, " My angel ! fairest of creatures ! goddess of 
 my heart ! " uttered in accents of rapture ; while from the 
 other, the vociferation was so violent, they could distinctly 
 hear nothing. 
 
 The white domino satisfied his curiosity by going to both 
 parties ; and then, returning to Cecilia, said, " Can you 
 conjecture who was making those soft speeches ? a Shylock ! 
 his knife all the time in his hand, and his design, doubtless, 
 to cut as near the heart as possible ! while the loud cackling 
 from the other side, is owing to the riotous merriment of
 
 CECILIA. 
 
 a noisy Mentor ! When next I hear a disturbance, I shall 
 expect to see some simpering Pythagoras stunned by his 
 talkative disciples." 
 
 " To own the truth," said Cecilia, "the almost universal 
 neglect of the characters assumed by these masquers, has 
 been the chief source of my entertainment this evening : 
 fgr at a place of this sort, the next best thing to a character 
 well supported, is a character ridiculously burlesqued." 
 
 " You cannot, then, have wanted amusement," returned 
 the domino ; " for among all the persons assembled in these 
 apartments, I have seen only three who have seemed con- 
 scious that any change but that of dress was necessary to 
 disguise them." 
 
 " And pray who are those ? " 
 
 " A Don Quixote, a school-master, and your friend the 
 devil." 
 
 " 0, call him not my friend ! " exclaimed Cecilia ; " for 
 indeed in or out of that garb he is particularly my aver- 
 sion." 
 
 " My friend, then, I will call him," said the domino j 
 " for so, were he ten devils, I must think him, since I owe 
 to him the honour of conversing with you. And, after all, 
 to give him his due, to which, you know, he is even pro- 
 verbially entitled, he has shown such abilities in the per- 
 formance of his part, so much skill in the display of malice, 
 and so much perseverance in the art of tormenting, that I 
 cannot but respect his ingenuity and capacity. And, indeed, 
 if instead of an evil genius, he had represented a guardian 
 angel, he could not have shown a more refined taste in his 
 choice of an object to hover about." 
 
 Just then they were approached by a young hay-maker, 
 to whom the white domino called out, " You look as gay 
 and as brisk as if fresh from the hay-field, after only half 
 a day's work. Pray how is it you pretty lasses find em- 
 ployment for the winter ? " 
 
 " How ? " cried she, pertly ; " why the same as for the- 
 summer ! " And pleased with her own readiness at re- 
 partee, without feeling the ignorance it betrayed, she 
 tript lightly on. 
 
 Immediately after, the school-master, mentioned by the 
 white domino, advanced to Cecilia. His dress was merely
 
 110 CECILIA. 
 
 a long wrapping gown of green stuff, a pair of red slippers, 
 and a woollen night-cap of the same colour ; while, as the 
 symbol of his profession, he held a rod in his hand. 
 
 " Ah, fair lady," he cried, " how soothing were it to the 
 austerity of my life, how softening to the rigidity of my 
 manners, might I without a breaking out of bounds which 
 I ought to be the first to discourage, and a ' confusion to 
 all order ' for which the school-boy should himself chastise 
 his master, be permitted to cast at your feet this emblem 
 of my authority ! and to forget, in the softness of your 
 conversation, all the roughness of discipline ! " 
 
 " No, no," cried Cecilia, " I will not be answerable for 
 such corruption of taste ! " 
 
 " This repulse," answered he, " is just what I feared ; 
 for alas ! under what pretence could a poor miserable peda- 
 gogue presume to approach you ? Should I examine you 
 in the dead languages, would not your living accents charm 
 from me all power of reproof ? Could I look at you, and 
 hear a false concord ? Should I doom you to water-gruel 
 as a dunce, would not my subsequent remorse make me want 
 it myself as a madman ? Were your fair hand spread out 
 to me for correction, should I help applying my Lips to it, 
 instead of my rat-tan ? If I ordered you to be called iip, 
 should I ever remember to have you sent back ? And if 
 I commanded you to stand in a corner, how should I 
 forbear following you thither myself ? " 
 
 Cecilia, who had no difficulty in knowing this pretended 
 school-master for Mr. Grosport, was readily beginning to 
 propose conditions, for according him her favour, when 
 their ears were assailed by a forced phthisical cough, which 
 they found proceeded from an apparent old woman, who 
 was a young man in disguise, and whose hobbling gait, 
 grunting voice, and most grievous asthmatic complaints, 
 seemed greatly enjoyed and applauded by the company. 
 
 "How true is it, yet how inconsistent," cried the white 
 domino, " that while we all desire to live long, we have all 
 a horror of being old ! The figure now passing is not 
 meant to ridicule any particular person, nor to stigmatize any 
 particular absurdity ; its sole view is to expose to contempt 
 and derision the general and natural infirmities of age ! And 
 the design is not more disgusting than impolitic ; for why,
 
 CECILIA. Ill 
 
 while so carefully we guard from all approaches of death, 
 should we close the only avenues to happiness in long life, 
 respect and tenderness ? " 
 
 Cecilia, delighted both by the understanding and hu- 
 manity of her new acquaintance, and pleased at being joined 
 by Mr. Gosport, was beginning to be perfectly satisfied with 
 her situation, when, creeping softly towards her, she again 
 perceived the black gentleman. 
 
 "Ah ! " cried she, with some vexation, "here comes my 
 old tormentor ! Screen me from him if possible, or he 
 will again make me his prisoner." 
 
 "Fear not," cried the white domino ; "he is an evil spirit, 
 and we will surely lay him. If one spell fails, we must try 
 another." 
 
 Cecilia then perceiving Mr. Arnott, begged he would 
 also assist in barricading her from the fiend who so obsti- 
 nately pursued her. 
 
 Mr. Arnott most gratefully acceded to the proposal ; and 
 the white domino, who acted as commanding officer, as- 
 signed to each his station : he desired Cecilia would keep 
 quietly to her seat, appointed the school-master to be her 
 guard on the left, took possession himself of the opposite 
 post, and ordered Mr. Arnott to stand sentinel in front. 
 
 This arrangement being settled, the guards of the right 
 and left wings instantly secured their places ; but whole 
 Mr. Arnott was considering whether it were better to 
 face the besieged, or the enemy, the arch-foe rushed sud- 
 denly before him, and laid himself down at the feet of 
 Cecilia. 
 
 Mr. Arnott, extremely disconcerted, began a serious 
 expostulation upon the ill-breeding of this behaviour ; but 
 the devil, resting all excuse upon supporting his character, 
 only answered by growling. 
 
 The white domino seemed to hesitate for a moment in 
 what manner to conduct himself, and with a quickness 
 that marked his chagrin, said to Cecilia, " You told me you 
 knew him has he any right to follow you ? " 
 
 " If he thinks he has," answered she, a little alarmed by 
 his question, "this is no time to dispute it." 
 
 And then, to avoid any hazard of altercation, she dis- 
 creetly forebore making further complaints, preferring any
 
 112 CECILIA. 
 
 persecution to seriously remonstrating with a man of so 
 much insolence as the Baronet. 
 
 The school-master, laughing at the whole transaction, 
 only said, " And pray, madam, after playing the devil with 
 all mankind, what right have yon to complain that one 
 man plays the devil with you ? " 
 
 " We shall, at least, fortify you," said the white domino, 
 " from any other assailant : no three-headed Cerberus 
 could protect you more effectually : but you will not, 
 therefore, fancy yourself in the lower regions ; for, if I 
 mistake not, the torment of three guardians is nothing new 
 to you." 
 
 " And how," said Cecilia, surprised, " should you know 
 of my three guardians ? I hope I am not quite encom- 
 passed with evil spirits ! " 
 
 " No," answered he ; " you will find me as inoffensive as 
 the hue of the domino I wear ; and would I could add as 
 insensible ! " 
 
 " This black gentleman," said the school-master, " who, 
 and very innocently, I was going to call your black-guard, 
 has as noble and fiend-like a disposition as I remember to 
 have seen ; for, without even attempting to take any diver- 
 sion himself, he seems gratified to his heart's content, in 
 excluding from it the lady he serves." 
 
 " He does me an honour I could well dispense with," 
 said Cecilia ; " but I hope he has some secret satisfaction 
 in his situation, which pays him for its apparent incon- 
 venience." 
 
 Here the black gentleman half raised himself, and at- 
 tempted to take her hand ; she started, and with much 
 displeasure drew it back : he then growled, and again sunk 
 prostrate. 
 
 " This is a fiend," said the school-master, " who to him- 
 self sayeth Budge not ! let his conscience never so often say 
 Budge ! Well, fair lady, your fortifications, however, may 
 now be deemed impregnable, since I, with a flourish of my 
 rod, can keep off the young by recollection of the past, 
 and since the fiend, with a jut of his foot, may keep off the 
 old from dread of the future ! " 
 
 Here a Turk, richly habited and resplendent with jewels, 
 stalked towards Cecilia, and, having regarded her some
 
 CECILIA. 113 
 
 time, called out, " I have been looking hard about me the 
 whole evening, and, faith, I have seen nothing handsome 
 before!" 
 
 The moment he opened his mouth, his voice, to her utter 
 astonishment, betrayed Sir Robert Floyer ! " Mercy on 
 me," cried she aloud, and pointing to the fiend, "who, 
 then, can this possibly be ! " 
 
 " Do you not know ?" cried the white domino. 
 
 " I thought I had known with certainty," answered she ; 
 " but I now find I was mistaken." 
 
 " He is a happy man," said the school-master, sarcasti- 
 cally looking at the Turk, " who has removed your sus- 
 picions only by appearing in another character ! " 
 
 " Why, what the deuce, then," exclaimed the Turk, " have 
 you taken that black dog there for me ? " 
 
 Before this question could be answered, an offensive 
 smell of soot making every body look around the room, 
 the chimney-sweeper already mentioned by Miss Larolles 
 was perceived to enter it. Every way he moved, a passage 
 was cleared for him, as the company, with general disgust, 
 retreated wherever he advanced. He was short, and 
 seemed somewhat incommoded by his dress ; he held his 
 soot-bag over one arm, and his shovel under the other. 
 As soon as he espied Cecilia, whose situation was. such as 
 to prevent her eluding him, he hooted aloud, and came 
 stumping up to her. " Ah, ha," he cried, " found at last ;" 
 then, throwing down his shovel, he opened the mouth of 
 his bag, and pointing waggishly to her head, said, " Come, 
 shall I pop you ? A good place for naughty girls ; in, I 
 say, poke in ! cram you up the chimney." 
 
 And then he put forth his sooty hands to reach her cap. 
 
 Cecilia, though she instantly knew the dialect of her 
 guardian Mr. Briggs, was not therefore the more willing 
 to be so handled, and started back to save herself from his 
 touch ; the white domino also came forward, and spread 
 out his arms as a defence to her, while the devil, who was 
 still before her, again began to growl. 
 
 "Ah, ha!" cried the chimney-sweeper, laughing, "so 
 did not know me ? Poor duck ! won't hurt you ; don't be 
 frightened ; nothing but old guardian ; all a joke ! " And 
 then, patting her cheek with his dirty hand, and nodding
 
 114 CECILIA. 
 
 at her with much kindness, " Pretty dove," he added, " be 
 of good heart ! sha'n't be meddled with ; come to see after 
 you. Heard of your tricks ; thought I'd catch you ! 
 come o'purpose. Poor duck ! did not know me ! ha ! ha ! 
 good joke enough ! " 
 
 " "What do you mean, you dirty dog," cried the Turk, 
 " by touching that lady ? " 
 
 " Won't tell ! " answered he ; " not your business. Got 
 a good right. Who cares for pearls ? Nothing but French 
 beads ; " pointing with a sneer to his turban. Then, again 
 addressing Cecilia ; " Fine doings ! " he continued. " Here's 
 a place ! never saw the like before ! turn a man's noddle ! 
 All goings out ; no comings in ; wax candles in every 
 room ; servants thick as mushrooms ! And where's the 
 cash ? Who's to pay the piper ? Come to more than a 
 guinea ; warrant Master Harrel thinks that nothing ! " 
 
 " A guinea ! " contemptuously repeated the Turk ; " and 
 what do you suppose a guinea will do ? " 
 
 " What ? Why keep a whole family handsome a week ; 
 never spend so much myself ; no, nor half neither." 
 
 " Why then how the devil do you live ? Do you beg ? " 
 
 " Beg ! Who should beg of ? You ? Got any thing to 
 give ? Are warm ? " 
 
 " Take the trouble to speak more respectfully, sir ! " 
 said the 'Turk, haughtily ; " I see you are some low fellow, 
 and I shall not put up with your impudence." 
 
 " Shall, shall ! I say ! " answered the chimney-sweeper 
 sturdily. "Hark'ee, my duck," chucking Cecilia under 
 the chin ; " don't be cajoled, nick that spark ! Never mind 
 gold trappings ; none of his own ; all a take-in ; hired for 
 eighteen pence ; not worth a groat. Never set your heart 
 on a fine outside, nothing within. Bristol stones won't 
 buy stock : only wants to chouse you." 
 
 " What do you mean by that, you little old scrub ? " 
 cried the imperious Turk ; " would you provoke me to soil 
 my fingers by pulling that beastly snub nose ?" For Mr. 
 Briggs had saved himself any actual mask, by merely 
 blacking his face with soot. 
 
 " Beastly snub nose ! " sputtered out the chimney- 
 sweeper, in much wrath ; " good nose enough ; don't want a 
 better ; good as another man's. Where's the harm on't ? "
 
 CECILIA. 115 
 
 " How could this black-guard get in ?" cried the Turk ; 
 " I believe he's a mere common chimney- sweeper out of 
 the streets, for he's all over dirt and filth. I never saw 
 such a dress at a masquerade before in my life." 
 
 " All the better," returned the other ; " would not 
 change. "What do think it cost ? " 
 
 " Cost ? Why not a crown." 
 
 " A crown ? Ha ! ha ! a pot o' beer ! Little Tom 
 borrowed it ! had it of our own sweep ; said 'twas for 
 himself. I bid him a pint ; rascal would not take less." 
 
 " Did your late uncle," said the white domino, in a low 
 voice to Cecilia, " choose for two of your guardians, Mr. 
 Harrel and Mr. Briggs, to give you an early lesson upon 
 the opposite errors of profusion and meanness ? " 
 
 "My uncle?" cried Cecilia, starting; "were you ac- 
 quainted with my uncle ? " 
 
 " No," said he ; " for my happiness I knew him not." 
 
 " You would have owed no loss of happiness to an 
 acquaintance with him," said Cecilia, very seriously ; " for 
 he was one who dispensed to his friends nothing but good." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said the domino ; " but I fear I should 
 have found the good he dispensed through his niece not 
 quite unmixed with evil ! " 
 
 " What's here ? " cried the chimney-sweeper, stumbling 
 over the fiend ; " what's this black thing ? Don't like it ; 
 looks like the devil. You sha'n't stay with it ; carry you 
 away ; take care of you myself." 
 
 He then offered Cecilia his hand ; but the black gentle- 
 man, raising himself upon his knees before her, paid her, 
 in dumb show, the humblest devoirs, yet prevented her 
 from removing. 
 
 " Ah ! ha ! " cried the chimney-sweeper, significantly 
 nodding his head ; " smell a rat ! a sweet- heart in disguise. 
 No bamboozling ! it won't do ; a'n't so soon put upon. If 
 you've got any thing to say, tell me, that's the way. 
 Where's the cash ? Got ever a rental ? Are warm ? That's 
 the point. Are warm ? " 
 
 The fiend, without returning any answer, continued his 
 homage to Cecilia ; at which the enraged chimney-sweeper 
 exclaimed, " Come, come with me ! won't be imposed 
 upon ; an old fox, understand trap ! "
 
 116 CECILIA. 
 
 He then again held out his hand, but Cecilia, pointing to 
 the fiend, answered, " How can I come, sir ? " 
 
 " Show you the way," cried he ; " shovel him off." 
 And taking his shovel, he very roughly set about removing 
 him. 
 
 The fiend then began a yell so horrible, that it disturbed 
 the whole company ; but the chimney-sweeper, only saying 
 " Aye, aye, blacky, growl away, blacky, makes no 
 odds, " sturdily continued his work ; and, as the fiend 
 had no chance of resisting so coarse an antagonist without 
 a serious struggle, he was presently compelled to change 
 his ground. 
 
 " Warm -work ! " cried the victorious chimney-sweeper, 
 taking off his wig, and wiping his head with the sleeves of 
 his dress ; " pure warm work this ! " 
 
 Cecilia, once again freed from her persecutor, instantly 
 quitted her place, almost equally desirous to escape the 
 haughty Turk, who was peculiarly her aversion, and the 
 facetious chimney-sweeper, whose vicinity, either on ac- 
 count of his dress or his conversation, was by no means 
 desirable. She was not, however, displeased that the white 
 domino and the school-master still continued to attend 
 her. 
 
 " Pray look," said the white domino, as they entered 
 another apartment, " at that figure of Hope ; is there any 
 in the room half so expressive of despondency ? " 
 
 " The reason, however," answered the school-master, 
 " is obvious ; that light and beautiful silver anchor upon 
 which she reclines, presents an occasion irresistible for an 
 attitude of elegant dejection ; and the assumed character 
 is always given up, where an opportunity offers to display 
 any beauty, or manifest any perfection in the dear proper 
 person ! " 
 
 " But why," said Cecilia, " should she assume the cha- 
 racter of Hope ? Could she not have been equally de- 
 jected, and equally elegant as Niobe, or some tragedy 
 queen ? " 
 
 " But she does not assume the character," answered the 
 school-master ; " she does not even think of it : the dress 
 is her object, and that alone fills up all her ideas. Enquire 
 of almost any body in the room concerning the persons
 
 CECILIA. 117 
 
 they seem to represent, and you will find their ignorance 
 more gross than you can imagine ; they have not once 
 thought upon the subject ; accident, or convenience, or 
 caprice has alone directed their choice." 
 
 A tall and elegant youth now approached them, whose 
 laurels and harp announced Apollo. The white domino 
 immediately enquired of him if tho noise and turbulence 
 of the company, had any chance of being stilled into 
 silence and rapture, by the divine music of the inspired 
 god? 
 
 " No," answered he, pointing to the room in which was 
 erected the new gallery, and whence, as he spoke, issued 
 the sound of an hautboy ; " there is a flute playing there 
 already." 
 
 "O for a Midas," cried the white domino, "to return 
 to this leather-eared god the disgrace he received from 
 him ! " 
 
 They now proceeded to the apartment which had been 
 lately fitted up for refreshments, and which was so full of 
 company, that they entered it with difficulty. And here 
 they were again joined by Minerva, who, taking Cecilia's 
 hand, said, " Lord, how glad I am you've got away from 
 that frightful black mask ! I can't conceive who he is ; 
 nobody can find out ; it's monstrous odd, but he has not 
 spoke a word all night, and he makes such a shocking noise 
 when people touch him, that I assure you it's enough to 
 put one in a fright." 
 
 " And pray," cried the school-master, disguising his 
 voice, " how earnest thou to take the helmet of Minerva 
 for a fool's cap ? " 
 
 "Lord, I have not," cried she innocently; "why the 
 whole dress is Minerva's ; don't you see ? " 
 
 " My dear child," answered he, " thou couldst as well 
 with that little figure pass for a Groliah, as with that little 
 wit for a Pallas." 
 
 Their attention was now drawn from the goddess of 
 wisdom to a mad Edgar, who so vehemently ran about the 
 room calling out " Poor Tom's a cold ! " that, in a short 
 time, he was obliged to take off his mask from an effect, 
 not very delicate, of the heat ! 
 
 Soon after, a gentleman desiring some lemonade, whose
 
 118 CECILIA. 
 
 toga spoke tlie consular dignity, though his broken English 
 betrayed a native of France, the school-master followed 
 him, and, with reverence the most profound, began to ad- 
 dress him in Latin ; but, turning quick towards him, he 
 gaily said, " Monsieur, j'ai I'honneur de representer Ciceron, 
 le grand Ciceron, pere de sa patrie ! mais quoique fai cet 
 
 honneur la, je ne suis pas pedant ! man dieu, Monsieur, je 
 
 ne parle que le Fran$ais dans la bonne compagnie ! " And, 
 politely bowing, he went on. 
 
 Just then Cecilia, while looking about the room for Mrs. 
 Harrel, felt herself suddenly pinched by the cheek, and 
 hastily turning round, perceived again her friend the 
 chimney-sweeper, who, laughing, cried, " Only me ! don't 
 be frightened. Have something to tell you ; had no luck ! 
 got never a husband yet ! can't find one ! looked all over, 
 too ; sharp as a needle. Not one to be had ! all catched 
 up!" 1 
 
 " I am glad to hear it, sir," said Cecilia, somewhat vexed 
 by observing the white domino attentively listening ; " and 
 I hope, therefore, you will give yourself no further trouble." 
 
 " Pretty duck ! " cried he, chucking her under the chin; 
 " never mind, don't be cast down ; get one at last. Leave 
 it to me. Nothing under a plum ; won't take up with less. 
 Good-by, ducky, good-by ! must go home now, begin to 
 be nodding." 
 
 And then, repeating his kind caresses, he walked away. 
 
 " Do you think, then," said the white domino, " more 
 highly of Mr. Briggs for discernment and taste than of 
 any body ? " 
 
 " I hope not ! " answered she, " for low indeed should I 
 then think of the rest of the world ! " 
 
 1 ' " The character," cried she (Mrs. Walsingham), " which I most 
 delight in, is Mr. Briggs. I think it the most admirable and entertaining 
 in the book." " I am very glad to hear it, ma'am, for he has few friends."' 
 " Oh, I know many people think him too low, but that is merely from 
 choosing only to look in the upper circle. Now, I am not at all surprised 
 to find that the Queen objects to him ; a foreigner, and in so exalted a 
 station, may well not understand so vulgar a miser ; but why people in 
 common life should object to what in common life is to be found, I don't 
 understand." . . . You will easily believe I was by no means sorry for 
 the Queen's objection, as I was glad and surprised her Majesty should 
 ever have met with the book.'' Diary of Mine. D 'Arblay, p. 208, vol. ii.
 
 CECILIA. 119 
 
 " The commission with which he is charged," returned 
 the domino, " has then misled me ; I imagined discernment 
 and taste might be necessary ingredients for making such 
 a choice as your approbation would sanctify ; but perhaps 
 his skill in guarding against any fraud or deduction in the 
 stipulation he mentioned, may be all that is requisite for 
 the execution of his trust." 
 
 " I understand very well," said Cecilia, a little hurt, 
 " the severity of your meaning ; and if Mr. Briggs had any 
 commission but of his own suggestion, it would fill me 
 with shame and confusion ; but as that is not the case, 
 those, at least, are sensations which it cannot give me." 
 
 " My meaning," cried the domino, with some earnestness, 
 " should I express it seriously, would but prove to you the 
 respect and admiration with which you have inspired me ; 
 and if indeed, as Mr. Briggs hinted, such a prize is to be 
 purchased by riches, I know not, from what I have seen of 
 its merit, any sum I should think adequate to its value." 
 
 "You are determined, I see," said Cecilia, smiling, "to 
 make most liberal amends for your asperity. 
 
 A loud clack of tongues now interrupted their discourse ; 
 and the domino, at the desire of Cecilia, for whom he had 
 procured a seat, went forward to enquire what was the 
 matter. But scarce had he given up his place a moment, 
 before, to her great mortification, it was occupied by the 
 fiend. 
 
 Again, but with the same determined silence he had 
 hitherto preserved, he made signs of obedience and homage, 
 and her perplexity to conjecture who he could be, or what 
 were his motives for this persecution, became the more 
 urgent as they seemed the less likely to be satisfied. But 
 the fiend, who was no other than Mr. Monckton, had every 
 instant less encouragement to make himself known : his 
 plan had in nothing succeeded, and his provocation at is 
 failure had caused him the bitterest disappointment ; he 
 had intended, in the character of a tormentor, not only to 
 pursue and hover around her himself, but he had also 
 hoped, in the same character, to have kept at a distance all 
 other admirers : but the violence with which he had over- 
 acted his part, by raising her disgust and the indignation 
 of the company, rendered his views wholly abortive : while
 
 120 CECILIA. 
 
 the consciousness of an extravagance for which, if dis- 
 covered, he could assign no reason not liable to excite 
 suspicions of his secret motives, reduced him to guarding 
 a painful and most irksome silence the whole evening. 
 And Cecilia, to whose unsuspicious mind the idea of Mr. 
 Monckton had never occurred, added continually to the 
 cruelty of his situation, by an undisguised aversion to his 
 assiduity, as well as by a manifest preference to the atten- 
 dance of the white domino. All, therefore, that his dis- 
 appointed scheme now left in his power, was to watch her 
 motions, listen to her discourse, and inflict occasionally 
 upon others some part of the chagrin with which he was 
 tormented himself. 
 
 While they were in this situation, Harlequin, in conse- 
 quence of being ridiculed by the Turk for want of agility, 
 offered to jump over the new dessert table, and desired to 
 have a little space cleared to give room to his motions. 
 It was in vain the people who distributed the refreshments, 
 and who were placed at the other side of the table, expos- 
 tulated upon the danger of the experiment ; Morrice had 
 a rage of enterprise untameable, and therefore, first taking 
 a run, he attempted the leap. 
 
 The consequence was such as might naturally be expected ; 
 he could not accomplish his purpose, but, finding himself 
 falling, imprudently caught hold of the lately erected 
 awning, and pulled it entirely upon his own head, and 
 with it the new contrived lights, which in various forms 
 were fixed to it, and which all came down together. 
 
 The mischief and confusion occasioned by this exploit 
 were very alarming, and almost dangerous ; those who 
 were near the table suffered most by the crush, but splinters 
 of the glass flew yet further ; and as the room, which was 
 small, had been only lighted up by lamps hanging from the 
 awning, it was now in total darkness, except close to the 
 door, which was still illuminated from the adjoining apart- 
 ments. 
 
 The clamour of Harlequin, who was covered with glass, 
 papier machee, lamps, and oil, the screams of the ladies, 
 the universal buzz of tongues, and the struggle between 
 the frighted crowd which was enclosed, to get out, and the 
 curious crowd from the other apartments, to get in, occa-
 
 CECILIA. 121 
 
 sioned a disturbance and tumult equally noisy and confused. 
 But the most serious sufferer was the unfortunate fiend, 
 who being nearer the table than Cecilia, was so pressed 
 upon by the numbers which poured from it, that he found 
 a separation unavoidable, and was unable, from the dark- 
 ness and the throng, to discover whether she was still in 
 the same place, or had made her escape into another. 
 
 She had, however, encountered the white domino, and, 
 under his protection, was safely conveyed to a further part 
 of the room. Her intention and desire were to quit it 
 immediately, but at the remonstrance of her conductor, she 
 consented to remain some time longer. " The conflict at 
 the door," said he, "will quite overpower you. Stay here 
 but a few minutes, and both parties will have struggled 
 themselves tired, and you may then go without difficulty. 
 Meantime, can you not, by this faint light, suppose me 
 one of your guardians, Mr. Briggs, for example, or, if he 
 is too old for me, Mr. Harrel, and entrust yourself to my 
 care ? " 
 
 " You seem wonderfully well acquainted with my guar- 
 dians," said Cecilia ; " I cannot imagine how you have had 
 your intelligence." 
 
 " N~or can I," answered the domino, " imagine how Mr. 
 Briggs became so particularly your favourite as to be en- 
 trusted with powers to dispose of you." 
 
 " You are mistaken indeed ; he is entrusted with no 
 powers but such as his own fancy has suggested." 
 
 " But how has Mr. Delvile offended you, that with him 
 only you seem to have no commerce or communication ? " 
 
 " Mr. Delvile ! " repeated Cecilia, still more surprised, 
 " are you also acquainted with Mr. Delvile ? " 
 
 " He is certainly a man of fashion," continued the domino, 
 " and he is also a man of honour ; surely, then, he would 
 be more pleasant for confidence and consultation, than one 
 whose only notion of happiness is money, whose only idea 
 of excellence is avarice, and whose only conception of sense 
 is distrust ! " 
 
 , Here a violent outcry again interrupted their conversa- 
 tion ; but not till Cecilia had satisfied her doubts concern- 
 ing the white domino, by conjecturing he was Mr. Belfield, 
 M'ho might easily, at the house of Mr. Monckton, have
 
 122 CECILIA. 
 
 gathered the little circumstances of her situation to which 
 he alluded, and whose size and figure exactly resembled 
 those of her new acquaintance. 
 
 The author of the former disturbance was now the occa- 
 sion of the present : the fiend, having vainly traversed the 
 room in search of Cecilia, stumbled accidentally upon Harle- 
 quin, before he was freed from the relics of his own 
 mischief ; and unable to resist the temptation of oppor- 
 tunity, and the impulse of revenge, he gave vent to the 
 wrath so often excited by the blunders, forwardness, and 
 tricks of Morrice, and inflicted upon him, with his own 
 wooden sword, which he seized for that purpose, a chastise- 
 ment the most serious and severe. 
 
 Poor Harlequin, unable to imagine any reason for this 
 violent attack, and already cut with the glass, and bruised 
 with the fall, spared not his lungs in making known his 
 disapprobation of such treatment: but the fiend, regardless 
 either of his complaints or his resistance, forbore not to 
 belabour him till compelled by the entrance of people with 
 lights. And then, after artfully playing sundry antics, 
 under pretence of still supporting his character, with a 
 motion too sudden for prevention, and too rapid for pursuit, 
 he escaped out of the room, and hurrying down stairs, threw 
 himself into a hackney chair, which conveyed him to a 
 place where he privately changed his dress before he re- 
 turned home: bitterly repenting the experiment he had 
 made, and conscious, too late, that had he appeared in a 
 character he might have avowed, he could, without im- 
 propriety, have attended Cecilia the whole evening. But 
 such is deservedly the frequent fate of cunning, which, 
 while it plots surprise and detection of others, commonly 
 overshoots its mark, and ends in its own disgrace. 
 
 The introduction of the lights now making manifest the 
 confusion which the frolic of Harlequin had occasioned, he 
 was seized with such a dread of the resentment of Mr. 
 Han-el, that, forgetting blows, bruises, and wounds, not one 
 of which were so frightful to him as reproof, he made the 
 last exhibition of his agility by an abrupt and hasty retreat. 
 
 He had, however, no reason for apprehension, since in 
 every thing that regarded expense, Mr. Harrel had no feel- 
 ing, and his lady had no thought.
 
 CECILIA. 123 
 
 The rooms now began to empty very fast, but among 
 the few masks yet remaining, Cecilia again perceived Don 
 Quixote ; and while, in conjunction with the white domino, 
 she was allowing him the praise of having supported his 
 character with more uniform propriety than any other 
 person in the assembly, she observed him taking off his 
 mask for the convenience of drinking some lemonade, and, 
 looking in his face, found he was no other than Mr. Belfield ! 
 Much astonished, and more than ever perplexed, she again 
 turned to the white domino, who seeing in her countenance 
 a surprise of which he knew not the reason, said, half 
 laughing, " You think, perhaps, I shall never be gone ? 
 And indeed I am almost of the same opinion : but what 
 can I do ? Instead of growing weary by the length of my 
 stay, my reluctance to shorten it encreases with its dura- 
 tion ; and all the methods I take, whether by speaking to 
 you or looking at you, with a view to be satiated, only 
 double my eagerness for looking and listening again ! I 
 must go, however; and if I am happy, I may perhaps meet 
 with you again, though, if I am wise, I shall never seek 
 you more ! " 
 
 And then, with the last stragglers that reluctantly dis- 
 appeared, he made his exit ; leaving Cecilia greatly pleased 
 with his conversation and his manners, but extremely per- 
 plexed to account for his knowledge of her affairs and 
 situation. 
 
 The school-master had already been gone some time. 
 
 She was now earnestly pressed by the Harrels and Sir 
 Robert, who still remained, to send to a warehouse for a 
 dress, and accompany them to the Pantheon ; but though 
 she was not without some inclination to comply, in the 
 hope of further prolonging the entertainment of an evening 
 from which she had received much pleasure, she disliked 
 the attendance of the Baronet, and felt averse to grant any 
 request that he could make, and therefore she begged they 
 would excuse her ; and having waited to see their dresses, 
 which were very superb, she retired to her own apart- 
 ment. 
 
 A great variety of conjecture upon all that had passed, 
 now, and till the moment that she sunk to rest, occupied 
 her mind ; the extraordinary persecution of the fiend ex-
 
 124 CECILIA. 
 
 cited at once her curiosity and amazement, while the know- 
 ledge of her affairs shown by the white domino, surprised 
 her not less, and interested her more. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AX AFFEAT. 
 
 * I ""HE next morning, during breakfast, Cecilia was in- 
 * formed that a gentleman desired to speak with her. 
 She begged permission of Mrs. Harrel to have him asked 
 up stairs, and was not a little surprised when he proved to 
 be the same old gentleman whose singular exclamations had 
 so much struck her at Mr. Monckton's, and at the rehearsal 
 of Artaserse. 
 
 Abruptly, and with a stern aspect advancing to her, " You 
 are rich," he cried ; " are you therefore worthless ? " 
 
 " I hope not ! " answered she, in some consternation ; 
 while Mrs. Harrel, believing his intention was to rob them, 
 ran precipitately to the bell, which she rang without ceas- 
 ing till two or three servants hastened into the room : by 
 which time, being less alarmed, she only made signs to 
 them to stay, and stood quietly herself to wait what would 
 follow. 
 
 The old man, without attending to her, continued his 
 dialogue with Cecilia. 
 
 " Know you then," he said, "a blameless use of riches? 
 such a use as not only in the broad glare of day shall shine 
 resplendent, but in the darkness of midnight, and stillness 
 of repose, shall give you reflections unimbittered, and slum- 
 bers unbroken ? tell me, know you this use ? " 
 
 " Not so well, perhaps," answered she, " as I ought ; but 
 I am very willing to learn better." 
 
 " Begin, then, while yet youth and inexperience, new to 
 the callousness of power and affluence, leave something 
 good to work upon ; yesterday you saw the extravagance of 
 luxury and folly ; to-day look deeper, and see, and learn to 
 pity the misery of disease and penury." 
 
 He then put into her hand a paper, which contained a
 
 CECILIA. 125 
 
 most affecting account of the misery to which a poor and 
 wretched family had been reduced, by sickness, and various 
 other misfortunes. 
 
 Cecilia, "open as day to melting charity," having hastily 
 perused it, took out her purse, and, offering to him three 
 guineas, said, " You must direct me, sir, what to give, if 
 this is insufficient." 
 
 " Hast thou so much heart ? " cried he, with emotion, 
 " and has fortune, though it has cursed thee with the temp- 
 tation of prosperity, not yet rooted from thy mind its native 
 benevolence ? I return in part thy liberal contribution ; 
 this," taking one guinea, " doubles my expectations ; I will 
 not, by making thy charity distress thee, accelerate the 
 fatal hour of hardness and degeneracy." 
 
 He was then going ; but Cecilia, following him, said, 
 " I^o, take it all ! Who should assist the poor if I will 
 not ? Rich, without connections ; powerful, without wants ; 
 upon whom have they any claim if not upon me ? " 
 
 " True," cried he, receiving the rest ; " and wise as true. 
 Give, therefore, whilst yet thou hast the heart to give, and 
 make, in thy days of innocence and kindness, some interest 
 with Heaven and the poor ! " 
 
 And then he disappeared. 
 
 "Why, my dear," cried Mrs. Harrel, "what could induce 
 you to give the man so much money ? Don't you see he is 
 crazy ? I dare say he would have been just as well con- 
 tented with sixpence." 
 
 " I know not what he is," said Cecilia, " but his manners 
 are not more singular than his sentiments are affecting ; 
 and if he is actuated by charity to raise subscriptions for 
 the indigent, he can surely apply to no one who ought so 
 readily to contribute as myself." 
 
 Mr. Harrel then came in, and his lady most eagerly told 
 him the transaction. 
 
 " Scandalous ! " he exclaimed ; " why this is no better 
 than being a house-breaker ! Pray give orders never to 
 admit him again. Three guineas ! I never heard so im- 
 pudent a thing in my life ! Indeed, Miss Beverley, you 
 must be more discreet in future, you will else be ruined 
 before you know where you are." 
 
 " Thus it is," said Cecilia, half smiling, " that we can all
 
 126 CECILIA. 
 
 lecture one another ! to-day you recommend economy to 
 me ; yesterday I with difficulty forbore recommending it to 
 you." 
 
 " Nay," answered he, " that was quite another matter ; 
 expense incurred in the common way of a man's living is 
 quite another thing to an extortion of this sort." 
 
 "It is another thing, indeed," said she, "but I know 
 not that it is therefore a better." 
 
 Mr. Harrel made no answer : and Cecilia, privately mo- 
 ralizing upon the different estimates of expense and eco- 
 nomy made by the dissipated and the charitable, soon 
 retired to her own apartment, determined firmly to adhere to 
 her lately adopted plan, and hoping, by the assistance of 
 her new and very singular monitor, to extend her practice 
 of doing good, by enlarging her knowledge of distress. 
 
 Objects are, however, never wanting for the exercise of 
 benevolence ; report soon published her liberality, and those 
 who wished to believe it, failed not to enquire into its truth. 
 She was soon at the head of a little band of pensioners, 
 and, never satisfied with the generosity of her donations, 
 found, in a very short time, that the common allowance of 
 her guardians was scarce adequate to the calls of her muni- 
 ficence. 
 
 And thus, in acts of goodness and charity, passed undis- 
 turbed another week of the life of Cecilia : but when the 
 fervour of self -approbation lost its novelty, the pleasure 
 with which her new plan was begun first subsided into 
 tranquillity, and then sunk into languor. To a heart formed 
 for friendship and affection the charms of solitude are very 
 short-lived ; and though she had sickened of the turbulence 
 of perpetual company, she now wearied of passing all her 
 time by herself, and sighed for the comfort of society, and 
 the relief of communication. But she saw with astonish- 
 ment the difficulty with which this was to be obtained : 
 the endless succession of diversions, the continual rotation 
 of assemblies, the numerousness of splendid engagements, 
 of which while every one complained, every one was proud 
 to boast, so effectually impeded private meetings and 
 friendly intercourse, that, whichever way she turned her- 
 self, all commerce seemed impracticable, but such as either 
 led to dissipation, or accidentally flowed from it.
 
 CECILIA. 127 
 
 Yet finding the error into which her ardour of reforma- 
 tion had hurried her, and that a rigid seclusion from com- 
 pany was productive of a lassitude as little favourable to 
 active virtue as dissipation itself, she resolved to soften her 
 plan, and by mingling amusement with benevolence, to try, 
 at least, to approach that golden mean, which, like the phi- 
 losopher's stone, always eludes our grasp, yet always invites 
 our wishes. 
 
 For this purpose she desired to attend Mrs. Harrel to the 
 next opera that should be represented. 
 
 The following Saturday, therefore, she accompanied that 
 lady and Mrs. Mears to the Haymarket, escorted by Mr. 
 Arnott. 
 
 They were very late ; the opera was begun, and even in 
 the lobby the crowd was so great that their passage was 
 obstructed. Here they were presently accosted by Miss 
 Larolles, who, running up to Cecilia and taking her hand, 
 said, " Lord, you can't conceive how glad I am to see you ! 
 why, my dear creature, where have you hid yourself these 
 twenty ages ? You are quite in luck in coming to-night, I 
 assure you ; it's the best opera we have had this season : 
 there's such a monstrous crowd there's no stirring. We 
 sha'n't get in this half hour. The coffee-room is quite full ; 
 only come and see ; is it not delightful ? " 
 
 This intimation was sufficient for Mrs. Harrel, whose love 
 of the opera was merely a love of company, fashion, and 
 show ; and therefore to the coffee-room she readily led the 
 way. 
 
 And here Cecilia found rather the appearance of a bril- 
 liant assembly of ladies and gentlemen, collected merely to 
 see and to entertain one another, than of distinct and casual 
 parties, mixing solely from necessity, and waiting only for 
 room to enter a theatre. 
 
 The first person that addressed them was Captain Aresby, 
 who, with his usual delicate languishment, smiled upon 
 Cecilia, and softly whispering, " How divinely you look to 
 night ! " proceeded to pay his compliments to some other 
 ladies. 
 
 " Do pray now," cried Miss Larolles, " observe Mr. Mea- 
 dows ! only just see where he has fixed himself ! in the very 
 best place in the room, and keeping the fire from every-
 
 128 CECILIA. 
 
 body ! I do assure you that's always his way, and it's mon- 
 strous provoking, for if one's ever so cold, he lollops so, that 
 one's quite starved. But you must know there's another 
 thing he does that is quite as bad, for if he gets a seat, he 
 never offers to move, if he sees one sinking with fatigue. 
 And besides, if one is waiting for one's carriage two hours 
 together, he makes it a rule never to stir a step to see for it. 
 Only think how monstrous ! " 
 
 " These are heavy complaints, indeed," said Cecib'a, look- 
 ing at him attentively ; " I should have expected from his 
 appearance a very different account of his gallantry, for he 
 seems dressed with more studied elegance than any-body 
 here." 
 
 " 0, yes," cried Miss Larolles, "he is the sweetest dresser 
 in the world : he has the most delightful taste you can con- 
 ceive, nobody has half so good a fancy. I assure you it's a 
 great thing to be spoke to by him : we are all of us quite 
 angry when he won't take any notice of us." 
 
 " Is your anger," said Cecilia, laughing, " in honour of 
 himself or of his coat ? " 
 
 " Why, Lord, don't you know all this time that he is an 
 ennuye? " 
 
 " I know, at least," answered Cecilia, " that he would 
 soon make one of me." 
 
 " 0, but one is never affronted with an ennuye, if he is 
 ever so provoking, because one always knows what it 
 means." 
 
 " Is he agreeable ? " 
 
 " Why, to tell you the truth, but pray now don't men- 
 tion it, I think him most excessive disagreeable ! He 
 yawns in one's face every time one looks at him. I assure 
 you sometimes I expect to see him fall fast asleep while I 
 am talking to him, for he is so immensely absent he don't 
 hear one half that one says ; only conceive bow horrid ! " 
 
 " But why, then, do you encourage him ? why do you 
 take any notice of him ? " 
 
 " O, everybody does, I assure you, else I would not for 
 the world ; but he is so courted you have no idea. How- 
 ever, of all things let me advise you never to dance with 
 him ; I did once myself, and I declare I was quite distressed 
 to death the whole time, for he was taken with such a fit of
 
 CECILIA. 129 
 
 absence he knew nothing he was about, sometimes skipping 
 and jumping with all the violence in the world, just as if he 
 only danced for exercise, and sometimes standing quite still, 
 or lolling against the wainscoat and gaping, and taking no 
 more notice of me than if he had never seen me in his life!" 
 
 The Captain now, again advancing to Cecilia, said, " So 
 you would not do us the honour to try the masquerade at 
 the Pantheon ? however, I hear you had a very brilliant 
 spectacle at Mr. Harrel's. I was quite au desespoir that I 
 could not have the honour of sliding in ; I did mon possible, 
 but it was quite beyond me." 
 
 Cecilia now, growing very impatient to hear the opera, 
 begged to know if they might not make a trial to get into 
 the pit ? 
 
 " I fear," said the Captain, smiling as they passed him, 
 without offering any assistance, " you will find it extreme 
 petrifying ; for my part, I confess I am not upon the prin- 
 ciple of crowding." 
 
 The ladies, however, accompanied by Mr. Arnott, made 
 the attempt, and soon found, according to the custom of 
 report, that the difficulty, for the pleasure of talking of it, 
 had been considerably exaggerated. They were separated, 
 indeed, but their accommodation was tolerably good. 
 
 Cecilia was much vexed to find the first act of the opera 
 almost over ; but she was soon still more dissatisfied when 
 she discovered that she had no chance of hearing the little 
 which remained : the place she had happened to find vacant 
 was next to a party of young ladies, who were so earnestly 
 engaged in their own discourse, that they listened not to a 
 note of the opera, and so infinitely diverted with their 
 own witticisms, that their tittering and loquacity allowed 
 no one in their vicinity to hear better than themselves. 
 Cecilia tried in vain to confine her attention to the singers, 
 she was distant from the stage, and to them she was near, 
 and her fruitless attempts all ended in chagrin and im- 
 patience. 
 
 At length she resolved to make an effort for entertain- 
 ment in another way, and since the expectations which 
 brought her to the opera were destroyed, to try, by listen- 
 ing to her fair neighbours, whether those who occasioned 
 her disappointment could make her any amends.
 
 130 CECILIA. 
 
 For this purpose she turned to them wholly ; yet was at 
 first in no little perplexity to understand what was going 
 forward, since so universal was the eagerness for talking, 
 and so insurmountable the antipathy to listening, that 
 every one seemed to have her wishes bounded by a con- 
 tinual utterance of words, without waiting for any answer, 
 or scarce even desiring to be heard. 
 
 But when, somewhat more used to their dialect and 
 manner, she began better to comprehend their discourse. 
 Wretchedly indeed did it supply to her the loss of the 
 opera. She heard nothing but descriptions of trimmings, 
 and complaints of hair-dressers, hints of conquest that 
 teemed with vanity, and histories of engagements which 
 were inflated with exultation. 
 
 At the end of the act, by the crowding forward of the 
 gentlemen to see the dance, Mrs. Harre! had an opportunity 
 of making room for her by herself, and she had then some 
 reason to expect hearing the rest of the opera in peace, for 
 the company before her, consisting entirely of young men, 
 seemed, even during the dance, fearful of speaking, lest 
 their attention should be drawn for a moment from the stage. 
 
 But to her infinite surprise, no sooner was the second act 
 begun, than their attention ended ! they turned from the 
 performers to each other, and entered into a whispering, 
 but gay conversation, which though not loud enough to 
 disturb the audience in general, kept in the ears of their 
 neighbours a buzzing which interrupted all pleasure from 
 the representation. Of this effect of their gaiety it seemed 
 uncertain whether they were conscious, but very evident 
 that they were careless. 
 
 The desperate resource which she had tried during the 
 first act, of seeking entertainment from the very conversa- 
 tion which prevented her enjoying it, was not now even in 
 her power : for these gentlemen, though as negligent as 
 the young ladies had been whom they disturbed, were 
 much more cautious whom they instructed : their language 
 was ambiguous, and their terms, to Cecilia, were unintelli- 
 gible: their subjects, indeed, required some discretion, 
 being nothing less than a ludicrous calculation of the age 
 and duration of jointured widows, and of the chances and 
 expectations of unmarried young ladies.
 
 CECILIA. 131 
 
 But what more even than their talking provoked her, 
 was finding that the moment the act was over, when she 
 cared not if their vociferation had been incessant, one of 
 them called out, "Come, be quiet, the dance is begun;" 
 and then they were again all silent attention ! 
 
 In the third act, however, she was more fortunate ; the 
 gentlemen again changed their places, and they were suc- 
 ceeded by others who came to the Opera not to hear them- 
 selves but the performers : and as soon as she was permitted 
 to listen, the voice of Pacchierotti took from her all desire 
 to hear any thing but itself. 
 
 During the last dance she was discovered by Sir Robert 
 Floyer, who, sauntering down Fops'-alley, stationed himself 
 by her side, and whenever the figurante relieved the prin- 
 cipal dancers, turned his eyes from the stage to her face, 
 as better worth his notice, and equally destined for his 
 amusement. 
 
 Mr. Monckton too, who for some time had seen and 
 watched her, now approached ; he had observed with much 
 satisfaction that her whole mind had been intent upon the 
 performance, yet still the familiarity of Sir Robert Floyer's 
 admiration disturbed and perplexed him ; he determined, 
 therefore, to make an effort to satisfy his doubts by examin- 
 ing into his intentions ; and, taking him apart, before the 
 dance was quite over, " Well," he said, " who is so hand- 
 some here as Harrel's ward ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered he, calmly, " she is handsome, but 1 
 don't like her expression." 
 
 " No ? why, what is the fault of it ?" 
 
 " Proud, cursed proud. It is not the sort of woman I 
 like. If one says a civil thing to her, she only wishes one 
 at the devil for one's pains." 
 
 " 0, you have tried her, then, have you ? why you are 
 not, in general, much given to say civil things." 
 
 " Yes, you know I said something of that sort to hei 
 once about Juliet, at the rehearsal. Were not you by ? " 
 
 " What, then, was that all ? and did you imagine one 
 compliment would do your business with her ?" 
 
 " O, hang it, who ever dreams of complimenting the 
 women now ? that's all at an end." 
 
 " You won't find she thinks so, though ; for, as you well
 
 132 CECILIA. 
 
 say, her pride is insufferable ; and I, who have long known 
 her, can assure you it does not diminish upon intimacy." 
 
 " Perhaps not, but there's very pretty picking in 
 3,000 per annum ! one would not think much of a little 
 incumbrance upon such an estate." 
 
 " Are you quite sure the estate is so considerable ? 
 Report is mightily given to magnify." 
 
 " O, I have pretty good intelligence : though, after all, I 
 don't know but I may be off ; she'll take a confounded deal 
 of time and trouble." 
 
 Monckton, too much a man of interest and of the world 
 to cherish that delicacy which covets universal admiration 
 for the object of its fondness, then artfully enlarged upon 
 the obstacles he already apprehended, and insinuated such 
 others as he believed would be most likely to intimidate 
 him. But his subtlety was lost upon the impenetrable 
 Baronet, who possessed that hard insensibility which ob- 
 stinately pursues its own course, deaf to what is said, and 
 indifferent to what is thought. 
 
 Meanwhile the ladies were now making way to the 
 coffee-room, though very slowly on account of the crowd ; 
 and just as they got near the lobby, Cecilia perceived Mr. 
 Belfield, who, immediately making himself known to her, 
 was offering his service to hand her out of the pit, when 
 Sir Robert Floyer, not seeing, or not heeding, him, pressed 
 forward, and said, " Will you let me have the honour, Miss 
 Beverley, of taking care of you ? " 
 
 Cecilia, to whom he grew daily more disagreeable, coldly 
 declined his assistance, while she readily accepted that 
 which had first been offered her by Mr. Belfield. 
 
 The haughty Baronet, extremely nettled, forced his way 
 on, and rudely stalking up to Mr. Belfield, motioned with 
 his hand for room to pass him, and said, "Make way, 
 sir ! " 
 
 " Make way for me, sir ! " cried Belfield, opposing him 
 with one hand, while with the other he held Cecilia. 
 
 " You, sir ? and who are you, sir ? " demanded the 
 Baronet, disdainfully. 
 
 " Of that, sir, I shall give you an account whenever you 
 please," answered Belfield, with equal scorn. 
 
 " What the devil do you mean, sir ? "
 
 CECILIA. 133 
 
 " Nothing very difficult to be understood," replied Bel- 
 field, and attempted to draw on Cecilia, who, much 
 alarmed, was shrinking back. 
 
 Sir Robert then, swelling with rage, reproachfully 
 turned to her, and said, " Will you suffer such an imper- 
 tinent fellow as that, Miss Beverley, to have the honour of 
 taking your hand ? " 
 
 Belfield, with great indignation, demanded what he 
 meant by the term impertinent fellow ; and Sir Robert, yet 
 more insolently repeated it. Cecilia, extremely shocked, 
 earnestly besought them both to be quiet ; but Belfield, at 
 the repetition of this insult, hastily let go her hand and 
 put his own upon his sword, while Sir Robert, taking ad- 
 vantage of his situation in being a step higher than his 
 antagonist, fiercely pushed him back, and descended into 
 the lobby. 
 
 Belfield, enraged beyond endurance, instantly drew his 
 sword, and Sir Robert was preparing to follow his example, 
 when Cecilia, in an agony of fright, called out, " Good 
 heaven ! will nobody interfere ? " And then a young 
 man, forcing his way through the crowd, exclaimed, " For 
 shame, for shame, gentlemen ! is this a place for such 
 violence ! " 
 
 Belfield, endeavouring to recover himself, put up his 
 sword, and though in a voice half choked with passion, 
 said, " I thank you, sir ! I was off my guard. I beg 
 pardon of the whole company." 
 
 Then, walking up to Sir Robert, he put into his hand a 
 card with his name and direction, saying, " With you, sir, 
 I shall be happy to settle what apologies are necessary at 
 your first leisure ;" and hurried away. 
 
 Sir Robert, exclaiming aloud that he should soon teach 
 him to whom he had been so impertinent, was immediately 
 going to follow him, when the affrighted Cecilia again 
 called out aloud, " Oh, stop him ! good God ! will nobody 
 stop him ! " 
 
 The rapidity with which this angry scene had passed had 
 filled her with amazement, and the evident resentment of 
 the Baronet upon her refusing his assistance, gave her an 
 immediate consciousness that she was herself the real cause 
 of the quarrel ; while the manner in which he was pre-
 
 134 CECILIA. 
 
 paring to follow Mr. Belfield, convinced her of the 
 desperate scene which was likely to succeed ; fear, there- 
 fore, overcoming every other feeling, forced from her this 
 exclamation before she knew what she said. 
 
 The moment she had spoken, the young man who had 
 already interposed again rushed forward, and seizing Sir 
 Robert by the arm, warmly remonstrated against the 
 violence of his proceedings, and being presently seconded 
 by other gentlemen, almost compelled him to give up his 
 design. 
 
 Then, hastening to Cecilia, " Be not alarmed, madam," 
 he cried, " all is over, and everybody is safe." 
 
 Cecilia, finding herself thus addressed by a gentleman 
 she had never before seen, felt extremely ashamed of 
 having rendered her interest in the debate so apparent ; 
 she curtsied to him in some confusion, and taking hold of 
 Mrs. Harrel's arm, hurried her back into the pit, in order 
 to quit a crowd of which she now found herself the prin- 
 cipal object. 
 
 Curiosity, however, was universally excited, and her 
 retreat served but to inflame it : some of the ladies, and 
 most of the gentlemen, upon various pretences, returned 
 into the pit merely to look at her, and in a few minutes the 
 report was current that the young lady who had been the 
 occasion of the quarrel was dying with love for Sir Robert 
 Floyer. 
 
 Mr. Monckton, who had kept by her side during the 
 whole affair, felt thunder-struck by the emotion she had 
 shown ; Mr. Arnott too, who had never quitted her, wished 
 himself exposed to the same danger as Sir Robert, so that 
 he might be honoured with the same concern ; but they 
 were both too much the dupes of their own apprehensions 
 and jjealousy, to perceive that what they instantly imputed 
 to fondness, proceeded simply from general humanity, ac- 
 cidentally united with the consciousness of being accessary 
 to the quarrel. 
 
 The young stranger who had officiated as mediator be- 
 tween the disputants, in a few moments followed her with 
 a glass of water, which he had brought from the coffee- 
 room, begging her to drink it and compose herself. 
 
 Cecilia, though she declined his civility with more vexa-
 
 CECILIA. 135 
 
 tion than gratitude, perceived, as she raised her eyes to 
 thank him, that her new friend was a young man very 
 strikingly elegant in his address and appearance. 
 
 Miss Larolles next, who, with her party, came back into 
 the pit, ran up to Cecilia, crying, " O, my dear creature, 
 what a monstrous shocking thing ! You've no idea how I 
 am frightened ; do you know I happened to be quite at the 
 further end of the coffee-room when it began, and I could 
 not get out to see what was the matter for ten ages ; only 
 conceive what a situation ! " 
 
 " Would your fright, then, have been less," said Cecilia, 
 " had you been nearer the danger ?" 
 
 " Lord, no, for when I came within sight I was fifty 
 times worse ! I gave such a monstrous scream, that it 
 quite made Mr. Meadows start. I dare say he'll tell me of 
 it these hundred years : but really when I saw them draw 
 their swords I thought I should have died ; I was so 
 amazingly surprised you've no notion." 
 
 Here she was interrupted by the re-appearance of the 
 active stranger, who again advancing to Cecilia, said, " 1 
 am in doubt whether the efforts I make to revive will please 
 or irritate you, but though you rejected the last cordial 1 
 ventured to present you, perhaps you will look with a more 
 favourable eye towards that of w y hich I am now the 
 herald." 
 
 Cecilia then, casting her eyes around, saw that he was 
 followed by Sir Robert Floyer. Full of displeasure both at 
 this introduction and at his presence, she turned hastily to 
 Mr. Arnott, and entreated him to enquire if the carriage 
 was not yet ready. 
 
 Sir Robert, looking at her with all the exultation of new- 
 raised vanity, said, with more softness than he had ever 
 before addressed her, " Have you been frightened ? " 
 
 "Everybody, I believe, was frightened," answered 
 Cecilia, with an air of dignity intended to check his 
 rising expectations. 
 
 " There was no sort of cause," answered he: "the fellow 
 did not know whom he spoke to, that was all." 
 
 "Lord, Sir Robert," cried Miss Larolles, "how could 
 you be so shocking as to draw your sword ? you can't con- 
 ceive how horrid it looked."
 
 136 CECILIA. 
 
 " Why I did not draw my sword," cried he, " I only had 
 my hand on the hilt." 
 
 " Lord, did not you, indeed ! well, everybody said you 
 did, and I'm sure I thought I saw five-and-twenty swords 
 all at once. I thought one of you would be killed every 
 moment. It was horrid disagreeable, I assure you." 
 
 Sir Robert was now called away by some gentlemen; 
 and Mr. Monckton, earnest to be better informed of Cecilia's 
 real sentiments, said, with affected concern, " At present 
 this matter is merely ridiculous ; I am sorry to think in 
 how short a time it may become more important." 
 
 " Surely," cried Cecilia, with quickness, "some of their 
 friends will interfere ! surely upon so trifling a subject they 
 will not be so mad, so inexcusable, as to proceed to more 
 serious resentment ! " 
 
 " Whichever of them," said the stranger, " is most 
 honoured by this anxiety, will be mad indeed to risk a life 
 so valued ! " 
 
 " Cannot you, Mr. Monckton," continued Cecilia, too 
 much alarmed to regard this insinuation, " speak with 
 Mr. Belfield ? You are acquainted with him, I know : is 
 it impossible you can follow him ? " 
 
 " I will with pleasure do whatever you wish ; btit still if 
 Sir Robert" 
 
 " 0, as to Sir Robert, Mr. Harrel, I am very sure, will 
 undertake him ; I will try to see him to-night myself, and 
 entreat him to exert all his influence." 
 
 "Ah, madam," cried the stranger, archly, and lowering 
 his voice, "those French beads and Bristol stones have not, 
 I find, shone in vain ! " 
 
 At these words Cecilia recognized her white domino 
 acquaintance at the masquerade ; she had before recollected 
 his voice, but was too much perturbed to consider where 
 or when she had heard it. 
 
 " If Mr. Briggs," continued he, "does not speedily come 
 forth with his plum friend, before the glittering of swords 
 and spears is joined to that of jewels, the glare will be so 
 resplendent, that he will fear to come within the influence 
 of its rays. Though, perhaps, he may only think the 
 stronger the light, the better he shall see to count his 
 guineas : for as
 
 CKCIL1A. 137 
 
 " in ten thousand pounds 
 Ten thousand charms are centred," 
 
 in a hundred thousand, the charms may have such magic 
 power, that he may defy the united efforts of tinsel and 
 knight errantry to deliver you from the golden spell." 
 
 Here the Captain, advancing to Cecilia, said, " I have 
 been looking for you in vain partout, but the crowd has 
 been so accablant I was almost reduced to despair. Give 
 me leave to hope you are now recovered from the liorreur 
 of this little fracas ? " 
 
 Mr. Arnott then brought intelligence that the carriage 
 was ready. Cecilia, glad to be gone, instantly hastened to 
 it ; and, as she was conducted by Mr. Monckton, most 
 earnestly entreated him to take an active part in endea- 
 vouring to prevent the fatal consequences with which the 
 quarrel seemed likely to terminate. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A FASHIONABLE FRIEND. 
 
 AS soon as they returned home, Cecilia begged Mrs. 
 Harrel not to lose a moment before she tried to 
 acquaint Mr. Harrel with the state of the affair. But that 
 lady was too helpless to know in what manner to set about 
 it ; she could not tell where he was, she could not conjec- 
 ture where he might be. 
 
 Cecilia then rang for his own man, and upon enquiry, 
 heard that he was, in all probability, at Brookes's in St. 
 James's Street. 
 
 She then begged Mrs. Harrel would write to him. Mrs. 
 Harrel knew not what to say. 
 
 Cecilia, therefore, equally quick in forming and executing 
 her designs, wrote to him herself, and entreated that, without 
 losing an instant, he would find out his friend Sir Robert 
 Floyer, and endeavour to effect an accommodation between 
 him and Mr. Belfield, with whom he had had a dispute at 
 the Opera-house. 
 
 The man soon returned with an answer that Mr. Harrel 
 would not fail to obey her commands.
 
 138 CECILIA. 
 
 She determined to sit up till lie came home, in order to 
 learn the event of the negociation. She considered herself 
 as the efficient cause of the quarrel, yet scarce knew how 
 or in what to blame herself ; the behaviour of Sir Robert 
 had always been offensive to her; she disliked his manners, 
 and detested his boldness ; and she had already shown her 
 intention to accept the assistance of Mr. Belfield before he 
 had followed her with an offer of his own. She was un- 
 certain, indeed, whether he had remarked what had passed, 
 but she had reason to think that, so circumstanced, to have 
 changed her purpose would have been construed into an 
 encouragement that might have authorised his future pre- 
 sumption of her favour. All she could find to regret with 
 regard to herself, was wanting the presence of mind to have 
 refused the civilities of both. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, though really sorry at the state of the affair, 
 regarded herself as so entirely unconcerned in it, that, 
 easily wearied when out of company, she soon grew sleepy, 
 and retired to her own room. 
 
 The anxious Cecilia, hoping every instant the return of 
 Mr. Harrel, sat up by herself : but it was not till near four 
 o'clock in the morning that he made his appearance. 
 
 " Well, sir," cried she, the moment she saw him, " I fear 
 by your coming home so late you have had much trouble, 
 but I hope it has been successful ? " 
 
 Great, however, was her mortification when he answered 
 that he had not even seen the Baronet, having been engaged 
 himself in so particular a manner, that he could not pos- 
 sibly break from his party till past three o'clock, at which 
 time he drove to the house of Sir Robert, but heard that 
 he was not yet come home. 
 
 Cecilia, though much disgusted by such a specimen of 
 insensibility towards a man whom he pretended to call his 
 friend, would not leave him till he had promised to arise 
 as soon as it was light, and make an effort to recover the 
 time lost. 
 
 She was now no longer surprised either at the debts of 
 Mr. Harrel, or at his particular occasions for money. She 
 was convinced he spent half the night in gaming, and the 
 consequences, however dreadful, were but natural. That Sir 
 Robert Floyer also did the same was a matter of much less
 
 CECILIA. 139 
 
 importance to her, but that the life of any man should through 
 her means be endangered, disturbed her inexpressibly. 
 
 She went, however, to bed, but arose again at six o'clock,, 
 and dressed herself by candle light. In an hour's time 
 she sent to enquire if Mr. Harrel was stirring, and hearing 
 he was asleep, gave orders to have him called. Yet he did 
 not rise till eight o'clock, nor could all her messages or 
 expostulations drive him out of the house till nine. 
 
 He was scarcely gone before Mr. Monckton arrived, who 
 now for the first time had the satisfaction of finding her alone. 
 
 " You are very good for coming so early," cried she j 
 " have you seen Mr. Belfield ? Have you had any con- 
 versation with him ? " 
 
 Alarmed at her eagerness, and still more at seeing by 
 her looks the sleepless night she had passed, he made at 
 first no reply ; and when, with increasing impatience, she- 
 repeated her question, he only said, " Has Belfield ever 
 visited you since he had the honour of meeting you at my 
 house ? " 
 
 " No, never." 
 
 " Have you seen him often in public ? " 
 
 " No, I have never seen him at all but the evening Mrs. 
 Harrel received masks, and last night at the opera." 
 
 "Is it then for the safety of Sir Robert you are so ex- 
 tremely anxious ? " 
 
 " It is for the safety of both ; the cause of their quarrel 
 was so trifling, that I cannot bear to think its consequence 
 should be serious." 
 
 " But do you not wish better to one of them than to the 
 other ? " 
 
 "As a matter of justice I do, but not from any partiality : 
 Sir Robert was undoubtedly the aggressor, and Mr. Belfield, 
 though at first too fiery, was certainly ill used." 
 
 The candour of this speech recovered Mr. Monckton 
 from his apprehensions ; and carefully observing her looks 
 while he spoke, he gave her the following account. 
 
 That he had hastened to Belfield's lodgings the moment 
 he had left the Opera-house, and, after repeated denials, abso- 
 lutely forced himself into his room, where he was quite alone, 
 and in much agitation : he conversed with him for more 
 than an hour upon the subject of the quarrel, but found
 
 140 CECILIA. 
 
 he so warmly resented the personal insult given him by 
 Sir Robert, that no remonstrance had any effect in making 
 him alter his resolution of demanding satisfaction. 
 
 " And could you bring him to consent to no compromise 
 before yon left him ? " cried Cecilia. 
 
 " No ; for before I got to him the challenge had been 
 sent." 
 
 " The challenge ! good heaven ! and do vou know the 
 event ? " 
 
 " I called again this morning at his lodgings, but he was 
 not returned home." 
 
 " And was it impossible to follow him ? Were there no 
 means to discover whither he was gone ? " 
 
 " None ; to elude all pursuit, he went out before anybody 
 in the house was stirring, and took his servant with him." 
 
 " Have you then been to Sir Robert ? " 
 
 " I have been to Cavendish-square, but there, it seems, 
 he has not appeared all night ; I traced him, through 
 his servants, from the Opera to a gaming-house, where I 
 found he had amused himself till this morning." 
 
 The uneasiness of Cecilia now encreased every moment ; 
 and Mr. Monckton, seeing he had no other chance of satis- 
 fying her, offered his service to go again in search of both 
 the gentlemen, and endeavour to bring her better informa- 
 tion. She accepted the proposal with gratitude, and he 
 departed. 
 
 Soon after, she was joined by Mr. Arnott, who, though 
 .seized with all the horrors of jealousy at sight of her ap- 
 prehensions, was so desirous to relieve them, that without 
 even making any merit of obliging her, he almost instantly 
 set out upon the same errand that employed Mr. Monckton, 
 and determined not to mention his design till he found 
 whether it would enable him to bring her good tidings. 
 
 He was scarce gone when she was told that Mr. 
 Delvile begged to have the honour of speaking to her. 
 Surprised at this condescension, she desired he might im- 
 mediately be admitted ; but much was her surprise aug- 
 mented, when, instead of seeing her ostentatious guardian, 
 she again beheld her masquerade friend, the white domino. 
 
 He intreated her pardon for an intrusion neither autho- 
 rized by acquaintance nor by business, though somewhat,
 
 CECILIA. 141 
 
 he hoped, palliated, by his near connection with one who 
 was privileged to take an interest in her affairs : and then, 
 hastening to the motives which had occasioned his visit, 
 " when I had the honour," he said, " of seeing you last 
 night at the Opera-house, the dispute which had just hap- 
 pened between two gentlemen, seemed to give you an 
 uneasiness which could not but be painful to all who ob- 
 served it, and as among that number I was not the least 
 moved, you will forgive, I hope, my eagerness to be the 
 first to bring you intelligence that nothing fatal has hap- 
 pened, or is likely to happen." 
 
 " You do me, sir," said Cecilia, " much honour ; and 
 indeed you relieve me from a suspense extremely dis- 
 agreeable. The accommodation, I suppose, was brought 
 about this morning ? " 
 
 "I find," answered he, smiling, "you now expect too 
 much ; but hope is never so elastic as when it springs from 
 the ruins of terror." 
 
 "What then is the matter? Are they, at last, not 
 safe ? " 
 
 " Yes, perfectly safe; but I cannot tell you. they have 
 never been in danger." 
 
 " Well, if it is now over I am contented : but you will 
 very much oblige me, sir, if you will inform me what has 
 passed." 
 
 " You oblige me, madam, by the honour of your com- 
 mands. I saw but too much reason to apprehend that 
 measures the most violent would follow the affray of last 
 night ; yet as I found that the quarrel had been accidental, 
 and the offence unpremeditated, I thought it not absolutely 
 impossible that an expeditious mediation might effect a 
 compromise : at least it was worth trying : for though 
 wrath slowly kindled or long nourished is sullen and un- 
 tractable, the sudden anger that has not had time to impress 
 the mind with a deep sense of injury, will, when gently 
 managed, be sometimes appeased with the same quickness 
 it is excited : I hoped, therefore, that some trifling conces- 
 sion from Sir Robert, as the aggressor, " 
 
 " Ah, sir ! " cried Cecilia, " that, I fear, was not to be 
 obtained ! " 
 
 " Not by me, I must own," he answered ; " but I was not
 
 142 CECILIA. 
 
 willing to think of the difficulty, and therefore ventured to 
 make the proposal : nor did I leave the Opera-house till I 
 had used every possible argument to persuade Sir Robert 
 an apology would neither stain his courage nor his reputa- 
 tion. But his spirit brooked riot the humiliation." 
 
 "Spirit!" cried Cecilia, "how mild a word! What, 
 then, could poor Mr. Belfield resolve upon ? " 
 
 " That, I believe, took him very little time to decide. I 
 discovered by means of a gentleman at the Opera, who was 
 acquainted with him, where he lived, and I waited upon 
 him with an intention to offer my services towards settling 
 "the affair by arbitration : for since you call him poor Mr. 
 Belfield, I think you will permit me, without offence to his 
 antagonist, to own that his gallantry, though too impetuous 
 for commendation, engaged me in his interest." 
 
 " I hope you don't think," cried Cecilia, " that an offence 
 to his antagonist must necessarily be an offence to me ? " 
 
 " Whatever I may have thought," answered he, looking 
 at her with evident surprise, " I certainly did not wish that 
 a sympathy offensive and defensive had been concluded 
 between you. I could not, however, gain access to Mr. Bel- 
 field last night, but the affair dwelt upon my mind, and 
 this morning I called at his lodging as soon as it was light." 
 
 " How good you have been ! " cried Cecilia ; " your kind 
 offices have not, I hope, all proved ineffectual ! " 
 
 " So valourous a Don Quixote," returned he, laughing, 
 " certainly merited a faithful Esquire ! he was, however, 
 gone out, and nobody knew whither. About half an hour 
 ago I called upon him again ; he was then just returned 
 home." 
 
 " Well, sir ? " 
 
 " I saw him ; the affair was over ; and in a short time he 
 will be able, if you will allow him so much honour, to 
 thank you for these enquiries." 
 
 " He is, then, wounded ? " 
 
 " He is a little hurt, but Sir Robert is perfectly safe. 
 Belfield fired first, and missed ; the Baronet was not so 
 successless." 
 
 " I am grieved to hear it, indeed ! and where is the 
 wound ? " 
 
 " The ball entered his right side, and the moment he felt
 
 CECILIA. 143 
 
 it, lie fired his second pistol in the air. This I heard from 
 his servant. He was brought home carefully and slowly ; 
 no surgeon had been upon the spot, but one was called to 
 him immediately. I stayed to enquire his opinion after the 
 wound had been dressed : he told me he had extracted the 
 ball, and assured me Mr. Belfield was not in any danger. 
 Your alarm, madam, last night, which had always been 
 present to me, then encouraged me to take the liberty of 
 waiting upon you. : for I concluded you could yet have 
 had no certain intelligence, and thought it best to let the 
 plain and simple fact outrun the probable exaggeration of 
 rumour." 
 
 Cecilia thanked him for his attention, and Mrs. Harrel 
 then making her appearance, he arose and said, " Had my 
 father known the honour I have had this morning of wait- 
 ing upon Miss Beverley, I am sure I should have been 
 charged with his compliments, and such a commission 
 would somewhat have lessened the presumption of this 
 visit ; but I feared lest while I should be making interest 
 for my credentials, the pretence of my embassy might be 
 lost, and other couriers, less scrupulous, might obtain pre- 
 vious audiences, and anticipate my dispatches." 
 
 He then took his leave. 
 
 " This white domino, at last, then," said Cecilia, "is the 
 son of Mr. Delvile ! and thence the knowledge of my situa- 
 tion which gave me so much surprise : a son how infi- 
 nitely unlike his father ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Harrel, " and as unlike his mother too, 
 for I assure you she is more proud and haughty even than 
 the old gentleman. I hate the very sight of her, for she 
 keeps every body in such awe that there's nothing but 
 restraint in her presence. But the son is a very pretty 
 young man, and much admired ; though I have only seen 
 him in public, for none of the family visit here." 
 
 Mr. Monckton, who now soon returned, was not a little 
 surprised to find that all the intelligence he meant to com- 
 municate was already known : and not the more pleased to 
 hear that the white domino, to whom before he owed no 
 good-will, had thus officiously preceded him. 
 
 Mr. Arnott, who also came just after him, had been so 
 little satisfied with the result of his enquiries, that from the
 
 144 CECILIA. 
 
 fear of encreasing the uneasiness of Cecilia, he determined 
 not to make known whither he had been ; but he soon found 
 his forbearance was of no avail, as she was already ac- 
 quainted with the duel and its consequences. Yet his 
 unremitting desire to oblige her urged him twice in the 
 course of the same day to again call at Mr. Belfield's lodg- 
 ings, in order to bring her thence fresh and unsolicited 
 intelligence. 
 
 Before breakfast was quite over, Miss Larolles, out of 
 breath with eagerness, came to tell the news of the duel, in 
 her way to church, as it was Sunday morning ! and soon 
 after Mrs. Mears, who also was followed by other ladies, 
 brought the same account, which by all was addressed to 
 Cecilia, with expressions of concern that convinced her, to 
 her infinite vexation, she was generally regarded as the 
 person chiefly interested in the accident. 
 
 Mr. Harrel did not return till late, but then seemed in 
 very high spirits : " Miss Beverley," he cried, " I bring you 
 news that will repay all your fright ; Sir Robert is not only 
 safe, but is come off conqueror." 
 
 " I am very sorry, sir," answered Cecilia, extremely 
 provoked to be thus congratulated, " that anybody con- 
 quered, or anybody was vanquished." 
 
 " There is no need for sorrow," cried Mr. Harrel, "or for 
 any thing but joy, for he has not killed his man ; the vic- 
 tory, therefore, will neither cost him a flight nor a trial. 
 To-day he means to wait upon you, and lay his laurels at 
 your feet." 
 
 " He means, then, to take very fruitless trouble," said 
 Cecilia, "for I have not any ambition to be so honoured." 
 
 " Ah, Miss Beverley," returned he, laughing, " this won't 
 do now ! it might have passed a little while ago, but it 
 won't do now, I promise you ! " 
 
 Cecilia, though much displeased by this accusation, found 
 that disclaiming it only excited further raillery, and there- 
 fore prevailed upon herself to give him a quiet hearing, 
 and scarce any reply. 
 
 At dinner, when Sir Robert arrived, the dislike she had 
 originally taken to him, encreased already into disgust by 
 his behaviour the preceding evening, was now fixed into 
 the strongest aversion by the horror she conceived of his
 
 CECILIA. 145 
 
 fierceness, and the indignation she felt excited by his arro- 
 gance. He seemed, from the success of this duel, to think 
 himself raised to the highest pinnacle of human glory ; 
 triumph sat exulting on his brow ; he looked down on who- 
 ever he deigned to look at all, and showed that he thought 
 his notice an honour, however imperious the manner in 
 which it was accorded. 
 
 Upon Cecilia, however, he cast an eye of more compla- 
 cency ; he now believed her subdued, and his vanity revelled 
 in the belief : her anxiety had so thoroughly satisfied him 
 of her love, that she had hardly the power left to undeceive 
 him ; her silence he only attributed to admiration, her cold- 
 ness to fear, and her reserve to shame. 
 
 Sickened by insolence so undisguised and unauthorised, 
 and incensed at the triumph of his successful brutality, 
 Cecilia with pain kept her seat, and with vexation reflected 
 upon the necessity she was under of passing so large a por- 
 tion of her time in company to which she was so extremely 
 averse. 
 
 After dinner, when Mrs. Harrel was talking of her party 
 for the evening, of which Cecilia declined making one, Sir 
 Robert, with a sort of proud humility, that half feared re- 
 jection, and half proclaimed an indifference to meeting it, 
 said " I don't much care for going further myself, if Miss 
 Beverley will give me the honour of taking my tea with 
 her." 
 
 Cecilia, regarding him with much surprise, answered 
 that she had letters to write into the country, which would 
 confine her to her own room for the rest of the evening. 
 The Baronet, looking at his watch, instantly cried " Faith, 
 that is very fortunate, for I have just recollected an engage- 
 ment at the other end of the town which had slipt my 
 memory." 
 
 Soon after they were all gone, Cecilia received a note 
 from Mrs. Delvile, begging the favour of her company the 
 next morning to breakfast. She readily accepted the invi- 
 tation, though she was by no means prepared, by the cha- 
 racter she had heard of her, to expect much pleasure from 
 an acquaintance with that lady.
 
 146 CECILIA. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A FAMILY PARTY. 
 
 /CECILIA, the next morning, between nine and ten 
 V-* o'clock, went to St. James's square ; she found no- 
 body immediately ready to receive her, but in a short time 
 was waited upon by Mr. Delvile. 
 
 After the usual salutations, " Miss Beverley," he said, "I 
 have given express orders to my people, that I may not be 
 interrupted while I have the pleasure of passing some 
 minutes in conversation with you, before you are presented 
 to Mrs. Delvile." 
 
 And then, with an air of solemnity, he led her to a seat ; 
 and having himself taken possession of another, continued 
 his speech. " I have received information, from authority 
 which I cannot doubt, that the indiscretion of certain of 
 your admirers last Saturday at the Opera-House, occasioned 
 a disturbance which to a young woman of delicacy I should 
 imagine must be very alarming : now, as I consider myself 
 concerned in your fame and welfare, from regarding you as 
 my ward, I think it is incumbent upon me to make en- 
 quiries into such of your affairs as become public ; for I 
 should feel in some measure disgraced myself, should it 
 appear to the world, while you are under my guardianship, 
 that there was any want of propriety in the direction of 
 your conduct." 
 
 Cecilia, not much flattered by this address, gravely an- 
 swered, that she fancied the affair had been misrepresented 
 to him. 
 
 " I am not much addicted," he replied, " to give ear to 
 anything lightly ; you must therefore permit me to enquire 
 into the merits of the cause, and then to draw my own in- 
 ferences. And let me, at the same time, assure you, there 
 is no other young lady who has any right to expect such 
 an attention from me. I must begin by begging you to 
 inform me, upon what grounds the two gentlemen in ques- 
 tion, for such, by courtesy, I presume they are called, 
 thought themselves entitled publicly to dispute your 
 favour ? "
 
 CECILIA. 147 
 
 " My favour, sir ! " cried Cecilia, much amazed. 
 
 " My dear," said he, with a complacency meant to give 
 her courage, " I know the question is difficult for a young 
 lady to answer ; but be not abashed, I should be sorry to 
 distress you, and mean to the utmost of my power to save 
 your blushes. Do not, therefore, fear me ; consider me as 
 your guardian, and assure yourself I am perfectly well dis- 
 posed to consider you as my ward. Acquaint me, then, 
 freely, what are the pretensions of these gentlemen ? " 
 
 " To me, sir, they have, I believe, no pretensions at 
 all." 
 
 " I see you are shy," returned he, with encreasing gen- 
 tleness ; " I see you cannot be easy with me ; and when I 
 consider how little you are accustomed to me, I do not 
 wonder. But pray take courage ; I think it necessary to 
 inform myself of your affairs, and therefore I beg you will 
 speak to me with freedom." 
 
 Cecilia, more and more mortified by this humiliating 
 condescension, again assured him he had been misinformed ; 
 and was again, though discredited, praised for her modesty ; 
 when, to her great relief, they were interrupted by the 
 entrance of her friend the white domino. 
 
 " Mortimer," said Mr. Delvile, " I understand you have 
 already had the pleasure of seeing this young lady ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," he answered ; " I have more than once had 
 that happiness, but I have never had the honour of being 
 introduced to her." 
 
 " Miss Beverley, then," said the father, " I must present 
 to you Mr. Mortimer Delvile, my son; and, Mortimer, in 
 Miss Beverley I desire you will remember that you respect 
 a ward of your father's." 
 
 " I will not, sir," answered he, " forget an injunction 
 my own inclinations had already out-run." 
 
 Mortimer Delvile was tall and finely formed ; his features, 
 though not handsome, were full of expression ; and a noble 
 openness of manners and address spoke the elegance of his 
 education, and the liberality of his mind. 
 
 When this introduction was over, a more general conver- 
 sation took place, till Mr. Delvile, suddenly rising, said to 
 Cecilia, " You will pardon me, Miss Beverley, if I leave 
 you for a few minutes ; one of my tenants sets out to-morrow
 
 148 CECILIA. 
 
 morning for my estate in the north, and he has been two 
 hours waiting to speak with me. But if my son is not par- 
 ticularly engaged, I am sure he will be so good as to do 
 the honours of the house till his mother is ready to receive 
 you." 
 
 And then, graciously waving his hand, he quitted the 
 room. 
 
 " My father," cried young Delvile, " has left me an office, 
 which, could I execute it as perfectly as I shall willingly, 
 would be performed without a fault." 
 
 " I am very sorry," said Cecilia, " that I have so much 
 mistaken your hour of breakfast ; but let me not be any 
 restraint upon you ; I shall find a book, or a newspaper, or 
 something to fill up the time till Airs. Delvile honours me 
 with a summons." 
 
 " You can only be a restraint upon me," answered he, 
 " by commanding me from your presence. I breakfasted 
 long ago, and am now just come from Mr. Belfield. I had 
 the pleasure, this morning, of being admitted into his 
 room." 
 
 " And how, sir, did you find him ? " 
 
 " Not so well, I fear, as he thinks himself ; but he was 
 in high spirits, and surrounded by his friends, whom he 
 was entertaining with all the gaiety of a man in full health, 
 and entirely at his ease ; though I perceived, by the frequent 
 changes of his countenance, signs of pain and indisposition, 
 that made me, however pleased with his conversation, think 
 it necessary to shorten my own visit, and to hint to those 
 who were near me the propriety of leaving him quiet." 
 
 " Did you see his surgeon, air ? " 
 
 " No ; but he told me he should only have one dressing 
 more of his wound, and then get rid of the whole business 
 by running into the country." 
 
 " Were you acquainted with him, sir, before this acci- 
 dent ? " 
 
 f No, not all ; but the little I have seen of him has 
 strongly interested me in his favour. At Mr. Barrel's 
 masquerade, where I first met with him, I was extremely 
 entertained by his humour, though there, perhaps, as I 
 had also the honour of first seeing Miss Beverley, I might 
 l>e too happy to feet much difficulty in being pleased. And
 
 CECILIA. 149 
 
 even at the Opera he had the advantage cf finding 1 me in 
 the same favourable disposition, as I had long- distinguished 
 you before I had taken any notice of him. I must, how- 
 ever, confess I did not think his anger that evening quite 
 without provocation, but I beg your pardon, I may per- 
 haps be mistaken, and you, who know the whole affair, 
 must undoubtedly be better able to account for what 
 happened." 
 
 Here he fixed his eyes upon Cecilia, with a look of 
 curiosity that seemed eager to penetrate into her sentiments 
 of the two antagonists. 
 
 " No, certainly," she answered ; " he had all the provo- 
 cation that ill-breeding could give him." 
 
 " And do you, madam," cried he, with much surprise, 
 " judge of this matter with such severity ? " 
 
 " No, not with severity, simply with candour." 
 
 " With candour ? Alas, then, poor Sir Robert ! Severity 
 were not half so bad a sign for him ! " 
 
 A servant now came in, to acquaint Cecilia that Mrs. 
 Delvile waited breakfast for her. 
 
 This summons was immediately followed by the re- 
 entrance of Mr. Delvile, who, taking her hand, said he 
 would himself present her to his lady, and with much 
 graciousness assured her of a kind reception. 
 
 The ceremonies preceding this interview, added to the 
 character she had already heard of Mrs. Delvile, made 
 Cecilia heartily wish it over ; but, assuming all the courage 
 in her power, she determined to support herself with a 
 spirit that should struggle against the ostentatious su- 
 periority she was prepared to expect. 
 
 She found her seated upon a sofa, from which, however, 
 she arose at her approach ; but the moment Cecilia beheld 
 her, all the unfavourable impressions with which she came 
 into her presence immediately vanished, and that respect 
 which the formalities of her introduction had failed to 
 inspire, her air, figure, and countenance instantaneously 
 excited. 
 
 She was not more than fifty years of age ; her complexion, 
 though faded, kept the traces of her former loveliness ; her 
 eyes, though they had lost their youthful fire, retained a lustre 
 that evinced their primeval brilliancy; and the fine symmetry
 
 150 CECILIA. 
 
 of her features, still uninjured by the siege of time, not 
 only indicated the perfection of her juvenile beauty, but 
 still laid claim to admiration in every beholder. 
 
 Her carriage was lofty and commanding ; but the dignity 
 to which high birth and conscious superiority gave rise, 
 was so judiciously regulated by good sense, and so happily 
 blended with politeness, that though the world at large 
 envied or hated her, the few for whom she had herself any 
 regard, she was infallibly certain to captivate. 
 
 The surprise and admiration with which Cecilia at the 
 first glance was struck, proved reciprocal ; Mrs. Delvile, 
 though prepared for youth and beauty, expected not to see 
 a countenance so intelligent, nor manners so well formed 
 as those of Cecilia : thus mutually astonished and mutually 
 pleased, their first salutations were accompanied by looks 
 so flattering to both, that each saw in the other an imme- 
 diate prepossession in her favour ; and from the moment 
 that they met, they seemed instinctively impelled to admire. 
 
 " I have promised Miss Beverley, madam," said Mr. 
 Delvile to his lady, " that you would give her a kind recep- 
 tion ; and I need not remind you that my promises are 
 always held sacred." 
 
 " But I hope you have not also promised," cried she, 
 with quickness, "that I should give you a kind reception, 
 for I feel at this very moment extremely inclined to quarrel 
 with you." 
 
 "Why so, madam?" 
 
 " For not bringing us together sooner ; for now I have 
 seen her, I already look back with regret to the time I 
 have lost without the pleasure of knowing her." 
 
 " What a claim is this," cried young Delvile, " upon the 
 benevolence of Miss Beverley ! for if she has not now the 
 indulgence by frequent and diligent visits to make some 
 reparation, she must consider herself as responsible for the 
 dissension she will occasion." 
 
 " If peace depends upon my visits," answered Cecilia, 
 " it may immediately be proclaimed ; were it to be pro- 
 cured only by my absence, I know not if I should so readily 
 agree to the conditions." 
 
 " I must request of you, madam," said Mr. Delvile, "that 
 when my son and I retire, you will bestow half an hour
 
 CECILIA. 151 
 
 upon this young lady, in making enquiries concerning the 
 disturbance last Saturday at the Opera-House. I have not, 
 myself, so much time to spare, as I have several appoint- 
 ments for this morning ; but I am sure you -will not object 
 to the office, as I know you to be equally anxious with 
 myself, that the minority of Miss Beverley should pass 
 without reproach." 
 
 " Not only her minority, but her maturity," cried young 
 Delvile, warmly ; " and not only her maturity, but her de- 
 cline of life will pass, I hope, not merely without reproach, 
 but with fame and applause ! " 
 
 " I hope so too," replied Mr. Delvile : " I wish her well 
 through every stage of her life ; but for her minority alone 
 it is my business to do more than wish. For that, I feel 
 my own honour and my own credit concerned ; my honour, 
 as I gave it to the Dean, that I would superintend her 
 conduct ; and my credit, as the world is acquainted with 
 the claim she has to my protection." 
 
 " I will not make any enquiries," said Mrs. Delvile, 
 turning to Cecilia with a sweetness that recompensed her 
 for the haughtiness of her guardian, " till I have had some 
 opportunity of convincing Miss Beverley, that my regard 
 for her merits they should be answered." 
 
 "You see, Miss Beverley," said Mr. Delvile, "how little 
 reason you had to be afraid of us ; Mrs. Delvile is as much 
 disposed in your favour as myself, and as desirous to be 
 of service to you. Endeavour, therefore, to cast off this 
 timidity, and to make yourself easy. You must come to 
 us often ; use will do more towards removing your fears, 
 than all the encouragement we can give you." 
 
 " But what are the fears," cried Mrs. Delvile, "that Miss 
 Beverley can have to remove? unless, indeed, she appre- 
 hends her visits will make us encroachers, and that the 
 more we are favoured with her presence, the less we shall 
 bear her absence'." 
 
 " Pray, son," said Mr. Delvile, " what was the name of 
 the person who was Sir Robert Floyer's opponent ? I have 
 again forgotten it." 
 
 " Belfield, sir." 
 
 " True ; it is a name I am perfectly unacquainted with : 
 however, he may possibly be a very good sort of man ; but
 
 152 CECILIA. 
 
 certainly his opposing himself to Sir Robert Floyer, a man 
 of some family, a gentleman, rich, and allied to some people 
 of distinction, was a rather strange circumstance. I mean 
 not, however, to prejudge the case ; I will hear it fairly 
 stated ; and I am the more disposed to be cautious in what 
 I pronounce, because I am persuaded Miss Beverley has 
 too much sense to let my advice be thrown away upon 
 her." 
 
 " I hope so, sir ; but with respect to the disturbance at 
 the Opera, I know not that I have the least occasion to 
 trouble you." 
 
 " If your measures," said he, very gravely, " are already 
 taken, the Dean, your uncle prevailed upon me to accept a 
 very useless office; but if anything is yet undecided, it will 
 not, perhaps, be amiss that I should be consulted. Mean- 
 time, I will only recommend to you to consider, that Mr. 
 Belfield is a person whose name nobody has heard, and 
 that a connection with Sir Robert Floyer would certainly 
 be very honourable for you." 
 
 " Indeed, sir," said Cecilia, " here is some great mis- 
 take ; neither of these gentlemen, I believe, think of me 
 at all." 
 
 " They have taken, then," cried young Delvile, with a 
 laugh, " a very extraordinary method to prove their indif- 
 ference ! " 
 
 "The affairs of Sir Robert Floyer," continued Mr. Delvile, 
 " are indeed, I am informed, in some disorder ; but he has 
 a noble estate, and your fortune would soon clear all its 
 incumbrances. Such an alliance, therefore, would be 
 mutually advantageous : but what would result from a 
 union with such a person as Mr. Belfield ? He is of no 
 family, though in that, perhaps, you would not be very 
 scrupulous ; but neither has he any money ; what, then, 
 recommends him ? " 
 
 " To me, sir, nothing ! " answered Cecilia. 
 
 " And to me," cried young Delvile, "almost everything! 
 He has wit, spirit, and understanding ; talents to create 
 admiration ; and qualities, I believe, to engage esteem ! " 
 
 " You speak warmly," said Mrs. Delvile ; " but if such 
 is his character, he merits your earnestness. What is it 
 you know of him ? "
 
 CECILIA. 153 
 
 "Not enough, perhaps," answered he, "to coolly justify 
 my praise ; but he is one of those whose first appearance 
 takes the mind by surprise, and leaves the judgment to 
 make afterwards such terms as it can. Will you, madam, 
 when he is recovered, permit me to introduce him to 
 you ? " 
 
 "Certainly," said she, smiling; "but have a care your 
 recommendation does not disgrace your discernment." 
 
 " This warmth of disposition, Mortimer," cried Mr. 
 Del vile, " produces nothing but difficulties and trouble : you 
 neglect the connections I point out, and which a little at- 
 tention might render serviceable as well as honourable, and 
 run precipitately into forming such as can do you no good 
 among people of rank, and are not only profitless in them- 
 selves, but generally lead you into expense and incon- 
 venience. You are now of an age to correct this rashness : 
 think, therefore, better of your own consequence, than thus 
 idly to degrade yourself, by forming friendships with every 
 showy adventurer that comes in your way." 
 
 " I know not, sir," answered he, " how Mr. Belfield 
 deserves to be called an adventurer : he is not, indeed, 
 rich ; but he is in a profession where parts such as his 
 seldom fail to acquire riches ; however, as, to me, his wealth 
 can be of no consequence, why should my regard for him 
 wait for it ? If he is a young man of worth and honour " 
 
 " Mortimer," interrupted Mr. Delvile, " whatever he is, 
 we know he is not a man of rank ; and whatever he may 
 be, we know he cannot become a man of family, and, con- 
 sequently, for Mortimer Delvile he is no companion. If 
 you can render him any service, I shall commend your so 
 doing ; it becomes your birth, it becomes your station in 
 life to assist individuals, and promote the general good : 
 but never in your zeal for others forget what is due to your- 
 self, and to the ancient and honourable house from which 
 you are sprung." 
 
 " But can we entertain Miss Beverley with nothing better 
 thnn family lectures ? " cried Mrs. Delvile. 
 
 " It is for me," said young Delvile, rising, " to beg pardon 
 of Miss Beverley for having occasioned them : but when 
 she is so good as to honour us with her company again, I 
 hope I shall have more discretion."
 
 154 CECILIA. 
 
 He then left the room ; and Mr. Delvile also rising to 
 go, said, " My dear, I commit you to very kind hands : 
 Mrs. Delvile, I am sure, will be happy to hear your story ; 
 speak to her, therefore, without reserve. And pray don't 
 imagine that I make you over to her from any slight ; on 
 the contrary, I admire and commend your modesty very 
 much ; but my time is extremely precious, and I cannot 
 devote so much of it to an explanation as your diffidence 
 requires." 
 
 And then, to the great joy of Cecilia, he retired ; leaving 
 her much in doubt whether his haughtiness or his con- 
 descension humbled her most. 
 
 " These men," said Mrs. Delvile, "can never comprehend 
 the pain of a delicate female mind, upon entering into 
 explanations of this sort : I understand it, however, too 
 well to inflict it. We will, therefore, have no explanations 
 at all till we are better acquainted ; and then, if you 
 will venture to favour me with any confidence, my best 
 advice, and, should any be in my power, my best services 
 shall be at your command." 
 
 " You do me, madam, much honour," answered Cecilia : 
 " but I must assure you I have no explanation to give." 
 
 "Well, well, at present," returned Mrs. Delvile, "I am 
 content to hear that answer, as I have acquired no right to 
 any other : but hereafter I shall hope for more openness : 
 it is promised me by your countenance, and I mean to claim 
 the promise by my friendship." 
 
 " Your friendship will both honour and delight me, and 
 whatever are your enquiries, I shall always be proud to 
 answer them ; but indeed, with regard to this affair " 
 
 " My dear Miss Beverley," interrupted Mrs. Delvile, 
 with a look of arch incredulity, " men seldom risk their 
 lives where an escape is without hope of recompense. But 
 we will not now say a word more upon the subject. I hope 
 you will often favour me with your company, and by the 
 frequency of your visits make us both forget the shortness 
 of our acquaintance." 
 
 Cecilia, finding her resistance only gave birth to fresh 
 suspicion, now yielded, satisfied that a very little time must 
 unavoidably clear up the truth. But her visit was not 
 therefore shortened ; the sudden partiality with which the
 
 CECILIA. 155 
 
 figure and countenance of Mrs. Delvile had impressed her, 
 was quickly ripened into esteem by the charms of her con- 
 versation : she found her sensible, well bred, and high 
 spirited ; gifted by nature with superior talents, and polished 
 by education and study with all the elegant embellishments 
 of cultivation. She saw in her, indeed, some portion of 
 the pride she had been taught to expect ; but it was so 
 much softened by elegance, and so well tempered with 
 kindness, that it elevated her character, without rendering 
 her manners offensive. 
 
 With such a woman, subjects of discourse could never 
 be wanting, nor fertility of powers to make them enter- 
 taining : and so much was Cecilia delighted with her visit, 
 that though her carriage was announced at twelve o'clock, 
 she reluctantly concluded it at two ; and in taking her 
 leave, gladly accepted an invitation to dine with her new 
 friend three days after ; who, equally pleased with her 
 young guest, promised before that time to return her 
 visit. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AN EXAMINATION. 
 
 /~*E CILIA found Mrs. Harrel eagerly waiting to hear 
 ^ some account how she had passed the morning, and 
 fully persuaded that she would leave the Delviles with a 
 determination never more, but by necessity, to see them : 
 she was, therefore, not only surprised but disappointed, when 
 instead of fulfilling her expectations, she assured her that 
 she had been delighted Avith Mrs. Delvile, whose engaging 
 qualities amply recompensed her for the arrogance of her 
 husband ; that her visit had no fault but that of being too 
 short ; and that she had already appointed an early day foi 
 repeating it. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel was evidently hurt by this praise ; and 
 Cecilia, who perceived among all her guardians a powerful 
 disposition to hatred and jealousy, soon dropt the subject : 
 though so much had she been charmed with Mrs. Delvile,
 
 15G CECILIA. 
 
 that a scheme of removal once more occurred to her, not- 
 withstanding her dislike of her stately guardian. 
 
 At dinner, as usual, they were joined by Sir Robert 
 Floyer, who grew more and more assiduous in his atten- 
 dance, but who, this day, contrary to his general custom of 
 remaining with the gentlemen, made his exit before the 
 ladies left the table ; and as soon as he was gone, Mr. 
 Harrel desired a private conference with Cecilia. 
 
 They went together to the drawing-room, where, after a 
 flourishing preface upon the merits of Sir Robert Floyer, 
 he formally acquainted her that he was commissioned by 
 that gentleman, to make her a tender of his hand and 
 fortune. 
 
 Cecilia, who had not much reason to be surprised at this 
 overture, desired him to tell the Baronet, she was obliged 
 to him for the honour he intended her, at the same time 
 that she absolutely declined receiving it. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, laughing, told her this answer was very well 
 for a beginning, though it would by no means serve beyond 
 the first day of the declaration ; but when Cecilia assured 
 him she should firmly adhere to it, he remonstrated, with 
 equal surprise and discontent, upon the reasons of her 
 refusal. She thought it sufficient to tell him that Sir 
 Robert did not please her; but, with much raillery, he 
 denied the assertion credit, assuring her that he was uni- 
 versally admired by the ladies, that she could not possibly 
 receive a more honourable offer, and that he was reckoned 
 by everybody the finest gentleman about the town. His 
 fortune, he added, was equally unexceptionable with his 
 figure and his rank in life ; all the world, he was certain, 
 would approve the connection, and the settlement made 
 upon her should be dictated by herself. 
 
 Cecilia begged him to be satisfied with an answer which 
 she never could change, and to spare her the enumeration 
 of particular objections, since Sir Robert was wholly and 
 in every respect disagreeable to her. 
 
 " What, then," cried he, " could make you so frightened 
 for him at the Opera-house ? There has been but on'> 
 opinion about town ever since, of your prepossession in hi.> 
 favour." 
 
 " I am extremely concerned to hear it ; my fright was
 
 CECILIA. 157 
 
 but the effect of surprise, and belonged not more to Sir 
 Robert than to Mr. Belfield." 
 
 He told her that nobody else thought the same ; that her 
 marriage with the Baronet was universally expected ; and, 
 in conclusion, notwithstanding her earnest desire that he 
 would instantly and explicitly inform Sir Robert of her 
 determination, he repeatedly refused to give him any final 
 answer, till she had taken more time for consideration. 
 
 Cecilia was extremely displeased at this irksome impor- 
 tunity, and still more chagrined to find her incautious 
 emotion at the Opera-House, had given rise to suspicions of 
 her harbouring a partiality for a man whom every day she 
 more heartily disliked. 
 
 While she was deliberating in what manner she could 
 clear up this mistake, which, after she was left alone, occu- 
 pied all her thoughts, she was interrupted by the entrance 
 of Mr. Monckton, whose joy in meeting her at length by 
 herself exceeded not her own ; for charmed as he was that 
 he could now examine into the state of her affairs, she was 
 not less delighted that she could make them known to 
 him. 
 
 After mutual expressions, guarded, however, on the part 
 of Mr. Monckton, though unreserved on that of Cecilia, of 
 their satisfaction in being again able to converse as in 
 former times, he asked if she would permit him, as the 
 privilege of their long acquaintance, to speak to her with 
 sincerity. 
 
 She assured him he could not more oblige her. 
 
 " Let me, then," said he, " enquire if yet that ardent 
 confidence in your own steadiness, which so much disdained 
 my fears that the change of your residence might produce 
 a change in your sentiments, is still as unshaken as when 
 we parted in Suffolk ? or whether experience, that foe to 
 unpractised refinement, has already taught you the falli- 
 bility of theory ? " 
 
 " When I assure you," replied Cecilia, " that your enquiry 
 gives me no pain, I think I have sufficiently answered it ; 
 for were I conscious of any alteration, it could not but em- 
 barrass and distress me. Very far, however, from finding 
 myself in the danger with which you threatened me, of 
 forgetting Bury, its inhabitants and its environs, I think with
 
 158 CECILIA. 
 
 pleasure of little else, since London, instead of bewitching, 
 has greatly disappointed me." 
 
 ." How so ?" cried Mr. Monckton, much delighted. 
 
 "Not," answered she, " in itself, not in its magnificence, 
 nor in its diversions, which seem to be inexhaustible ; but 
 these, though copious as instruments of pleasure, are very 
 shallow as sources of happiness : the disappointment, there- 
 fore, comes nearer home, and springs not from London, 
 but from my own situation." 
 
 " Is that, then, disagreeable to you ? " 
 
 " You shall yourself judge, when I have told you that 
 from the time of my quitting your house till this very 
 moment, when I have again the happiness of talking with 
 you, I have never once had any conversation, society or 
 intercourse, in which friendship or affection have had any 
 share, or my mind has had the least interest." 
 
 She then entered into a detail of her way of life, told 
 him how little suited to her taste was the unbounded dissi- 
 pation of the Harrels, and feelingly expatiated upon the 
 disappointment she had received from the alteration in the 
 manners and conduct of her young friend. " In her," she 
 continued, " had I found the companion I came prepared 
 to meet, the companion from whom I had so lately parted, 
 and in whose society I expected to find consolation for the 
 loss of yours and of Mrs. Charlton's, I should have com- 
 plained of nothing ; the very places that now tire, might 
 then have entertained me ; and all that passes for unmean- 
 ing dissipation might have worn the appearance of variety 
 and pleasure. But where the mind is wholly without in- 
 terest, everything is languid and insipid ; and accustomed 
 as I have long been to think friendship the first of human 
 blessings, and social converse the greatest of human enjoy- 
 ments, how ever can I reconcile myself to a state of careless 
 indifference, to making acquaintance without any concern 
 either for preserving or esteeming them, and to going on 
 from day to day in an eager search of amusement, with no 
 companion for the hours of retirement, and no view beyond 
 that of passing the present moment in apparent gaiety and 
 thoughtlessness ? " x 
 
 1 ''December 23, 1782. I begin to grow most heartily sick of this 
 continual round of visiting, and these eternal new acquaintances. I am
 
 CECILIA. 159 
 
 Mr. Monckton, who heard these complaints with secret 
 rapture, far from seeking to soften or remove, used his 
 utmost endeavours to strengthen and encrease them, by 
 artfully retracing her former way of life, and pointing out 
 with added censures the change in it she had been lately 
 compelled to make : " a change," he continued, " which, 
 though ruinous of your time, and detrimental to your hap- 
 piness, use will, I fear, familiarize, and familiarity render 
 pleasant." 
 
 " These suspicions, sir," said Cecilia, " mortify me 
 greatly ; and why, when far from finding me pleased, you 
 hear nothing but repining, should you still continue to 
 harbour them ? " 
 
 " Because your trial has yet been too short to prove your 
 firmness, and because there is nothing to which time cannot 
 contentedly accustom us." 
 
 " I feel not much fear," said Cecilia, " of standing such 
 a test as might fully satisfy you ; but nevertheless, not to 
 be too presumptuous, I have by no means exposed myself 
 to all the dangers which you think surround me, for of late 
 I have spent almost every evening at home and by 
 myself." 
 
 This intelligence was to Mr. Monckton a surprise the 
 most agreeable he could receive. Her distaste for the 
 amusements which were offered her, greatly relieved his 
 fears of her forming any alarming connection ; and the 
 discovery that while so anxiously he had sought her every- 
 where in public, she had quietly passed her time by her own 
 fire-side, not only re-assured him for the present, but gave 
 him information where he might meet with her in future. 
 
 He then talked of the duel, and solicitously led her to 
 speak openly of Sir Robert Floyer : and here, too, his satis- 
 
 now arranging matters in my mind for a better plan ; and I mean, 
 henceforward, never to go out more than three days in the week ; . 
 . . I really have at present no pleasure in any party, from the trouble 
 and tiresomeness of being engaged to so many. For my own part, if I 
 wished to prescribe a cure for dissipation, I should think none more effec- 
 tual than to give it a free course. The many who have lived so from year 
 to year amaze me now more than ever ; for now more than ever I can 
 judge what dissipation has to offer. I would not lead a life of daily en- 
 gagements even for another month, for any pay short of the most serious 
 and substantial benefit." Diary of Madame D'Arblay, p. 210, vol. ii.
 
 160 CECILIA. 
 
 faction was entire ; he found her dislike of him such as his 
 knowledge of her disposition made him expect ; and she 
 wholly removed his suspicions concerning her anxiety about 
 the quarrel, by explaining to him her apprehensions of 
 having occasioned it herself. 
 
 Neither did her confidence rest here ; she acquainted him 
 with the conversation she had just had with Mr. Harrel, 
 and begged his advice in what manner she might secure 
 herself from further importunity. 
 
 Mr. Monckton had now a new subject for his discernment. 
 Every thing had confirmed to him the passion which Mr. 
 Arnott had conceived for Cecilia, and he had therefore 
 concluded the interest of the Harrels would be all in his 
 favour : other ideas now struck him ; he found that Mr. 
 Arnott was given up for Sir Robert ; and he determined 
 carefully to watch the motions both of the Baronet and 
 her young guardian, in order to discover the nature of their 
 plans and connection. Meantime, convinced by her unaf- 
 fected aversion to the proposals she had received, that she 
 was at present in no danger from the league he suspected, 
 he merely advised her to persevere in manifesting a calm 
 repugnance to their solicitations, which could not fail, before 
 long, to dishearten them both. 
 
 " But, sir," cried Cecilia, " I now fear this man as much 
 as I dislike him, for his late fierceness and brutality, though 
 they have encreased my disgust, make me dread to show it. 
 I am impatient, therefore, to have done with him, and to 
 see him no more. And for this purpose, I wish to quit the 
 house of Mr. Harrel, where he has access at his pleasure." 
 
 "You can wish nothing more judiciously," cried he; 
 " would you, then, return into the country ? " 
 
 " That is not yet in my power ; I am obliged to reside 
 with one of my guardians. To-day I have seen Mrs. Del- 
 vile, and " 
 
 " Mrs. Del vile ? " interrupted Mr. Monckton, in a voice 
 of astonishment, " Surely you do not think of removing 
 into that family ? " 
 
 " What can I do so well ? Mrs. Delvile is a charming 
 woman, and her conversation would afford me more enter- 
 tainment and instruction in a single day, than under this 
 roof I should obtain in a twelvemonth."
 
 CECILIA. 161 
 
 " Are you serious ? Do you really think of making such 
 a change ? " 
 
 " I really wish it, but I know not yet if it is practicable : 
 on Thursday, however, I am to dine with her, and then, if 
 it is in my power, I will hint to her my desire." 
 
 " And can Miss Beverley possibly wish," cried Mr. 
 Monckton with earnestness, " to reside in such a house ? 
 Is not Mr. Del vile the most ostentatious, haughty, and 
 self-sufficient of men ? Is not his wife the proudest of 
 women? And is not the whole family odious to all the 
 world ? " 
 
 " You amaze me ! " cried Cecilia ; " surely that cannot 
 be their general character ? Mr. Delvile, indeed, deserves 
 all the censure he can meet, for his wearisome parade of 
 superiority ; but his lady by no means merits to be included 
 in the same reproach. I have spent this whole morning 
 with her, and though I waited upon her with a strong pre- 
 judice in her disfavour, I observed in her no pride that 
 exceeded the bounds of propriety and native dignity." 
 
 " Have you often been at the house ? Do you know the 
 son, too ? " 
 
 " I have seen him three or four times." 
 
 " And what do you think of him ? " 
 
 " I hardly know enough of him to judge fairly." 
 
 " But what does he seem to you ? Do you not perceive 
 in him already all the arrogance, all the contemptuous in- 
 solence of his father ? " 
 
 " no ! far from it indeed ; his mind seems to be liberal 
 and noble, open to impressions of merit, and eager to honour 
 and promote it." 
 
 " You are much deceived : you have been reading your 
 own mind, and thought you had read his ; I would advise 
 you sedulously to avoid the whole family ; you will find all 
 intercourse with them irksome and comfortless : such as the 
 father appears at once, the wife and the son will, in a few 
 more meetings, appear also. They are descended from the 
 same stock, and inherit the same self-complacency. Mr. 
 Delvile married his cousin, and each of them instigates the 
 other to believe that all birth and rank would be at an end 
 in the world, if their own superb family had not a promise 
 of support from their hopeful Mortimer. Should you pre- 
 
 M
 
 162 CECILIA. 
 
 cipitately settle yourself in their house, you would very 
 soon be totally weighed down by their united insolence." 
 
 Cecilia again and warmly attempted to defend them ; 
 but Mr. Monckton was so positive in his assertions, and so 
 significant in his insinuations to their discredit, that she 
 was at length persuaded she had judged too hastily, and, 
 after thanking him for his counsel, promised not to take 
 any measures towards a removal without his advice. 
 
 This was all he desired ; and now, enlivened by finding 
 that his influence with her was unimpaired, and that her 
 heart was yet her own, he ceased his exhortations, and 
 turned the discourse to subjects more gay and general, 
 judiciously cautious neither by tedious admonitions to 
 disgust, nor by fretful solicitude to alarm her. He did not 
 quit her till the evening was far advanced, and then, in 
 returning to his own house, felt all his anxieties and dis- 
 appointments recompensed by the comfort this long and 
 satisfactory conversation had afforded him. While Cecilia, 
 charmed with having spent the morning with her new ac- 
 quaintance, and the evening with her old friend, retired to 
 rest better pleased with the disposal of her time than she 
 had yet been since her journey from Suffolk. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A TETE A TETE. 
 
 THE two following days had neither event nor dis- 
 turbance, except some little vexation occasioned by 
 the behaviour of Sir Robert Floyer, who still appeared not 
 to entertain any doubt of the success of his addresses. 
 This impertinent confidence she could only attribute to the 
 officious encouragement of Mr. Harrel, and therefore she 
 determined rather to seek than to avoid an explanation with 
 him. But she had, in the mean time, the satisfaction of 
 hearing from Mr. Arnott, who, ever eager to oblige her, 
 was frequent in his enquiries, that Mr. Belfield was almost 
 entirely recovered. 
 
 On Thursday, according to her appointment, she again 
 went to St. James's-square, and being shown into the
 
 CECILIA. 163 
 
 drawing-room till dinner was ready, found there only young 
 Mr. Delvile. 
 
 After some general conversation, he asked her how lately 
 she had had any news of Mr. Belfield ? 
 
 " This morning," she answered, " when I had the plea- 
 sure of hearing he was quite recovered. Have you seen 
 him again, sir ? " 
 
 "Yes, madam, twice." 
 
 " And did you think him almost well ? " 
 
 " I thought," answered he, with some hesitation, " and I 
 think still, that your enquiries ought to be his cure." 
 
 " 0," cried Cecilia, " I hope he has far better medicines : 
 but I am afraid I have been misinformed, for I see you do 
 not think him better." 
 
 " You must not, however," replied he, " blame those mes- 
 sengers whose artifice has only had your satisfaction in 
 view ; nor should I be so malignant as to blast their designs, 
 if I did not fear that Mr. Belfield's actual safety may be 
 endangered by your continued deception." 
 
 " What deception, sir ? I don't at all understand you. 
 How is his safety endangered ? " 
 
 " Ah madam ! " said he smiling, " what danger indeed is 
 there that any man would not risk to give birth to such 
 solicitude ! Mr. Belfield however, I believe, is in none from 
 which a command of yours cannot rescue him.' 
 
 " Then were I an hard-hearted damsel indeed not to issue 
 it ! but if my commands are so medicinal, pray instruct me 
 how to administer them." 
 
 " You must order him to give up, for the present, his plan 
 of going into the country, where he can have no assistance, 
 and where his wound must be dressed only by a common 
 servant, and to remain quietly in town, till his surgeon 
 pronounces that he may travel without any hazard." 
 
 " But is he, seriously, so mad as to intend leaving town 
 without the consent of his surgeon ? " 
 
 " Nothing less than such an intention could have induced 
 me to undeceive you with respect to his recovery. But, 
 indeed, I am no friend to those artifices which purchase 
 present relief by future misery : I venture, therefore, to 
 speak to you the simple truth, that by a timely exertion of 
 your influence you may prevent further evil"
 
 16-i CECILIA. 
 
 " I know not, sir," said Cecilia with the utmost surprise, 
 " why you should suppose I have any such influence : nor 
 can I imagine that any deception has been practised." 
 
 "It is possible," answered he, " I may have been too 
 much alarmed ; but in such a case as this, no information 
 ought to be depended upon but that of his surgeon. You, 
 madam, may probably know his opinion ? " 
 
 " Me ? No, indeed ! I never saw his surgeon : I know 
 not even who he is." 
 
 " I purpose calling upon him to-morrow morning ; will 
 Miss Beverley permit me afterwards the honour of com- 
 municating to her what may pass ? " 
 
 " I thank you, sir," said she, colouring very high ; "but 
 my impatience is by no means so great as to occasion my 
 giving you that trouble." 
 
 Del vile, perceiving her change of countenance, instantly, 
 and with much respect, entreated her pardon for the pro- 
 posal ; which, however, she had no sooner granted, than he 
 said very archly, " Why, indeed, you have not much right to 
 be angry, since it was your own frankness that excited mine. 
 And thus, you find, like most other culprits, I am ready to 
 cast the blame of the offence upon the offended. I feel, 
 however, an irresistible propensity to do service to Mr. 
 Belfield ; shall I sin quite beyond forgiveness if I venture 
 to tell you how I found him situated this morning ? " 
 
 " No, certainly, if you wish it, I can have no objec- 
 tion." 
 
 " I found him, then, surrounded by a set of gay young 
 men, who, by way of keeping up his spirits, made him 
 laugh and talk without ceasing : he assured me himself 
 that he was perfectly well, and intended to gallop out of 
 town to-morrow morning ; though, when I shook hands 
 with him at parting, I was both shocked and alarmed to 
 feel, by the burning heat of his skin, that, far from discard- 
 ing his surgeon, he ought rather to call in a physician." 
 
 " I am very much concerned to hear this account," said 
 Cecilia ; " but I do not well understand what you mean 
 should on my part follow it ? " 
 
 " That," answered he, bowing, with a look of mock gravity, 
 " I pretend not to settle ! In stating the case I have 
 satisfied my conscience, and if in hearing it you can pardon
 
 CECILIA. 165 
 
 the liberty I have taken, I shall as much honour the 
 openness of your character, as I admire that of your 
 countenance." 
 
 Cecilia now, to her no little astonishment, found she had 
 the same mistake to clear up at present concerning Mr. 
 Belfield, that only three days before she had explained with 
 respect to the Baronet. But she had no time to speak 
 further upon the subject, as the entrance of Mrs. Delvile 
 put an end to their discourse. 
 
 That lady received her with the most distinguishing 
 kindness ; apologised for not sooner waiting upon her, and 
 repeatedly declared that nothing but indisposition should 
 have prevented her returning the favour of her first visit. 
 
 They were soon after summoned to dinner. Mr. Delvile, 
 to the infinite joy of Cecilia, was out. 
 
 The day was spent greatly to her satisfaction. There was 
 no interruption from visitors, she was tormented by the 
 discussion of no disagreeable subjects, the duel was not men- 
 tioned, the antagonists were not hinted at, she was teased 
 with no self-sufficient encouragement, and wearied with no 
 mortifying affability ; the conversation at once was lively 
 and rational, and though general, was rendered interesting by 
 a reciprocation of good-will and pleasure in the conversers. 
 
 The favourable opinion she had conceived both of the 
 mother and the son this long visit served to confirm : in 
 Mrs. Delvile she found strong sense, quick parts, and high 
 breeding ; in Mortimer, sincerity and vivacity joined with 
 softness and elegance ; and in both there seemed the most 
 liberal admiration of talents, with an openness of heart that 
 disdained all disguise. Greatly pleased with their manners, 
 and struck with all that was apparent in their characters, 
 she much regretted the prejudice of Mr. Monckton, which 
 now, with the promise she had given him, was all that 
 opposed her making an immediate effort towards a change 
 in her abode. 
 
 She did not take her leave till eleven o'clock, when Mrs. 
 Delvile, after repeatedly thanking her for her visit, said she 
 would not so much encroach upon her good-nature as to 
 request another till she had waited upon her in return ; but 
 %dded, that she meant very speedily to pay that debt, in 
 order to enable herself, by friendly and frequent meetings,
 
 166 CECILIA. 
 
 to enter upon the confidential commission with which her 
 guardian had entrusted her. 
 
 Cecilia was pleased with the delicacy which gave rise to 
 this forbearance, yet having in fact nothing either to relate 
 or conceal, she was rather sorry than glad at the delay of 
 an explanation, since she found the whole family was in 
 an error with respect to the situation of her affairs. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AN APPLICATION. 
 
 CECILIA, upon her return home, heard with some sur- 
 V-* prise that Mr. and Mrs. Harrel were by themselves in 
 the drawing-room ; and, while she was upon the stairs, 
 Mrs. Harrel ran out, calling eagerly, " Is that my brother? " 
 
 Before she could make an answer, Mr. Harrel, in the 
 same impatient tone, exclaimed, " Is it Mr. Arnott ? " 
 
 " No," said Cecilia, " did you expect him so late ? " 
 
 " Expect him ? Yes," answered Mr. Harrel, " I have ex- 
 pected him the whole evening, and cannot conceive what 
 he has done with himself." 
 
 " 'Tis abominably provoking," said Mrs. Harrel, " that 
 he should be out of the way just now when he is wanted. 
 However, I daresay to-morrow will do as well." 
 
 " I don't know that," cried Mr. Harrel ; " Beeves is such 
 a wretch that I am sure he will give me all the trouble in 
 his power." 
 
 Here Mr. Arnott entered ; and Mrs. Harrel called out 
 "0, brother, we have been distressed for you cruelly; we 
 have had a man here who has plagued Mr. Harrel to death, 
 and we wanted you sadly to speak to him." 
 
 " I should have been very glad," said Mr. Arnott, " to 
 have been of any use, and perhaps it is not yet too late ; 
 who is the man ? " 
 
 " O>" cried Mr. Harrel, carelessly, " only a fellow from 
 that rascally tailor who has been so troublesome to me 
 lately. He has had the impudence, because I did not pay 
 him the moment he was pleased to want his money, to put 
 the bill into the hands of one Reeves, a griping attorney,
 
 CECILIA. 167 
 
 who has been here this evening, and thought proper to 
 talk to me pretty freely. I can tell the gentleman I shall 
 not easily forget his impertinence ! however I really wish 
 meantime I could get rid of him." 
 
 " How much is the bill, sir ? " said Mr. Arnott. 
 
 " Why, it's rather a round sum ; but I don't know how it 
 is, one's bills mount up before one is aware : those fellows 
 charge such confounded sums for tape and buckram ; I 
 hardly know what I have had of him, and yet he has run 
 me up a bill of between three and four hundred pounds." 
 
 Here there was a general silence ; till Mrs. Harrel said 
 "Brother, can't you be so good as to lend us the money ? 
 Mr. Harrel says he can pay it again very soon." 
 
 " O yes, very soon," said Mr. Harrel, " for I shall receive 
 a great deal of money in a little time ; I only want to stop 
 this fellow's mouth for the present." 
 
 " Suppose I go and talk with him ? " said Mr. Arnott. 
 
 " 0, he's a brute, a stock ! " cried Mr. Harrel ; "nothing 
 but the money will satisfy him : he will hear no reason ; 
 one might as well talk to a stone." 
 
 Mr. Arnott now looked extremely distressed ; but upon 
 his sister's warmly pressing him not to lose any time, he 
 gently said, " If this person will but wait a week or two, 
 I should be extremely glad, for really just now I cannot 
 take up so much money without such particular loss and 
 inconvenience, that I hardly know how to do it : but yet, 
 if he will not be appeased, he must certainly have it." 
 
 "Appeased?" cried Mr. Harrel, "you might as well 
 appease the sea in a storm ! he is as hard as iron." 
 
 Mr. Arnott, then, forcing a smile, though evidently in 
 much uneasiness, said he would not fail to raise the money 
 the next morning, and was taking his leave, when Cecilia, 
 shocked that such tenderness and good-nature should be 
 thus grossly imposed upon, hastily begged to speak with 
 Mrs. Harrel, and taking her into another room, said, " I 
 beseech you, my dear friend, let not your worthy brother 
 suffer by his generosity ; permit me in the present exigence 
 to assist Mr. Harrel : my having such a sum advanced can 
 be of no consequence ; but I should grieve indeed that your 
 brother, who so nobly understands the use of money, should 
 take it up at any particular disadvantage."
 
 168 CECILIA. 
 
 " You are vastly kindly," said Mrs. Harrel, " and I will 
 ran and speak to them about it : but whichever of you 
 lends the money, Mr. Harrel has assured me he shall pay 
 it very soon." 
 
 She then returned with the proposition. Mr. Arnott 
 strongly opposed it, but Mr. Harrel seemed rather to prefer 
 it, yet spoke so confidently of his speedy payment, that he 
 appeared to think it a matter of little importance from which 
 he accepted it. A generous contest ensued between Mr. 
 Arnott and Cecilia, but as she was very earnest, she at 
 length prevailed, and settled to go herself the next morning 
 into the city, in order to have the money advanced by Mr. 
 Briggs, who had the management of her fortune entirely to 
 himself, her other guardians never interfering in the execu- 
 tive part of her affairs. 
 
 This arranged, they all retired. 
 
 And then, with encreasing astonishment, Cecilia reflected 
 upon the ruinous levity of Mr. Harrel, and the blind security 
 of his wife; she saw in their situation danger the most 
 alarming, and in the behaviour of Mr. Harrel selfishness 
 the most inexcusable ; such glaring injustice to his credi- 
 tors, such utter insensibility to his friends, took from her 
 all wish of assisting him, though the indignant compassion 
 with which she saw the easy generosity of Mr. Arnott so 
 frequently abused, had now, for his sake merely, induced 
 her to relieve him. 
 
 She resolved, however, as soon as the present difficulty 
 was surmounted, to make another attempt to open the eyes 
 of Mrs. Harrel to the evils which so apparently threatened 
 her, and press her to exert all her influence with her 
 husband, by means both of example and advice, to retrench 
 his expenses, before it should be absolutely too late to save 
 him from ruin. 
 
 She determined also, at the same time that she applied 
 for the money requisite for this debt, to take up enough for 
 discharging her own bill at the booksellers, and putting in 
 execution her plan of assisting the Hills. 
 
 The next morning she arose early, and, attended by her 
 servant, set out for the house of Mr. Briggs, purposing, 
 as the weather was clear and frosty, to walk through 
 Oxford-Road, and then put herself into a chair; and
 
 CECILIA. 1G9 
 
 hoping to return to Mr. Harrel's by the usual hour of 
 breakfast. 
 
 She had not proceeded far, before she saw a mob gather- 
 ing, and the windows of almost all the houses filling with 
 spectators. She desired her servant to enquire what this 
 meant, and was informed that the people were assembling 
 to see some malefactors pass by in their way to Tyburn. 1 
 
 Alarmed at this intelligence, from the fear of meeting 
 the unhappy criminals, she hastily turned down the next 
 street, but found that also filling with people, who were 
 running to the scene she was trying to avoid : encircled 
 thus every way, she applied to a maid servant who was 
 standing at the door of a large house, and begged leave to 
 step in till the mob was gone by. The maid immediately 
 consented, and she waited here while she sent her man for 
 a chair. 
 
 He soon arrived with one ; but just as she returned to 
 the street door, a gentleman, who was hastily entering the 
 house, standing back to let her pass, suddenly exclaimed, 
 "Miss Beverley!" and looking at him, she perceived 
 young Delvile. 
 
 " I cannot stop an instant," cried she, running down the 
 steps, "lest the crowd should prevent the chair from going 
 on." 
 
 " Will you not first," said he, handing her in, " tell me 
 what news you have heard ? " 
 
 " News ? " repeated she, " No, I have heard none ! " 
 
 " You will only, then, laugh at me for those officious 
 offers you did so well to reject ?" 
 
 " I know not what offers you mean ! " 
 
 " They were indeed superfluous, and therefore I wonder 
 not you have forgotten them. Shall I tell the chairman 
 whither to go ? " 
 
 1 "Cecilia" was published a year and a half before criminals were 
 hanged in front of Newgate, instead of at Tyburn. So this is probably 
 the last notice in a standard book of the movement of the hangman's 
 procession from Newgate along the Tyburn Road, now called Oxford 
 Street, to the gallows on the site of Connaught Place in the Edgeware 
 Koad. When Tyburn-tree fell out of use, Tyburn Road became Oxford 
 Road in all mouths, as it was already in those of the more polite, and 
 Tyburn Lane, Park Lane, as Tyburn Church had, long before, become 
 St. Mary-la-bonne.
 
 170 CECILIA. 
 
 " To Mr. Briggs. But I cannot imagine what you 
 mean." 
 
 " To Mr. Briggs," repeated he, " 0, live for ever French 
 beads and Bristol stones ! fresh .offers may perhaps be 
 made there, impertinent, officious, and useless as mine ! " 
 
 He then told her servant the direction, and, making his 
 bow, went into the house she had just quitted. 
 
 Cecilia, extremely amazed by this short, but unintel- 
 ligible conversation, would again have called upon him to 
 explain his meaning, but found the crowd encreasing so 
 fast, that she could not venture to detain the chair, which 
 with difficulty made its way to the adjoining streets : but 
 her surprise at what had passed so entirely occupied her, 
 that when she stopt at the house of Mr. Briggs, she had 
 almost forgotten what had brought her thither. 
 
 The foot-boy, who came to the door, told her that his 
 master was at home, but not well. 
 
 She desired he might be acquainted that she wished to 
 speak to him upon business, and would wait upon him 
 again at any hour when he thought he should be able to 
 see her. 
 
 The boy returned with an answer that she might call 
 again the next week. 
 
 Cecilia, knowing that so long a delay would destroy all 
 the kindness of her intention, determined to write to him 
 for the money, and therefore went into the parlour, and 
 desired to have pen and ink. 
 
 The boy, after making her wait some time in a room 
 without any fire, brought her a pen and a little ink in a 
 broken tea cup, saying, " Master begs you won't spirt it 
 about, for he's got no more; and all our blacking's as 
 good as gone." 
 
 " Blacking ? " repeated Cecilia. 
 
 " Yes, miss ; when master's shoes are blacked, we com- 
 monly gets a little drap of fresh ink." 
 
 Cecilia promised to be careful, but desired him to fetch 
 her a sheet of paper. 
 
 " Law, miss," cried the boy, with a grin, " I dare say 
 master'd as soon give you a bit of his nose ! howsever 
 I'll go ax." 
 
 In a few minutes he again returned, and brought in his
 
 CECILIA. 171 
 
 hand a slate and a pencil ; "Miss," cried he, "master says 
 how you may write upon this, for he supposes you've no 
 great matters to say." 
 
 Cecilia, much astonished 'at this extreme parsimony, was 
 obliged to consent, but as the point of the pencil was very 
 blunt, desired the boy to get her a knife, that she might 
 cut it. He obeyed, but said, " Pray, miss, take care it 
 ben't known, for master don't do such a thing once in a 
 year, and if he know'd I'd got you the knife, he'd go nigh 
 to give me a good polt of the head." 
 
 Cecilia then wrote upon the slate her desire to be in- 
 formed in what manner she should send him her receipt 
 for 000, which she begged to have instantly advanced. 
 
 The boy came back grinning, and holding up his hands, 
 and said, " Miss, there's a fine piece of work up stairs I 
 Master's in a peck of troubles ; but he says how he'll come 
 down, if you'll stay till he's got his things on." 
 
 " Does he keep his bed, then ? I hope I have not made 
 him rise ? " 
 
 "N"o, miss, he don't keep his bed, only he must get 
 ready, for he wears no great matters of clothes when he's 
 alone. You are to know, miss," lowering his voice, " that 
 that day as ho went abroad with our sweep's clothes on, 
 he corned home in sich a pickle you never see ! I believe 
 somebody'd knocked him in the kennel ; so does Moll ; but 
 don't you say as I teld you ! He's been special bad ever 
 since. Moll and I was as glad as could be, because he's 
 so plaguy sharp ; for, to let you know, miss, he's so near, 
 it's partly a wonder how he lives at all : and yet he's worth 
 a power of money, too." 
 
 " Well, well," said CecihX not very desirous to en- 
 courage his forwardness, " If I want anything, I'll call for 
 you." 
 
 The boy, however, glad to tell his tale, went on. 
 
 " Our Moll won't stay with him above a week longer, 
 miss, because she says how she can't get nothing to eat, 
 but just some old stinking salt meat, that's stayed in the 
 butcher's shop so long it would make a horse sick to look 
 at it. But Moll's pretty nice ; howsever, miss, to let 
 you know, we don't get a good meal so often as once a 
 quarter ! why this last week we han't had nothing at all
 
 172 CECILIA. 
 
 but some dry musty red herrings ; so you may think, miss, 
 we're kept pretty sharp ! " 
 
 He was now interrupted by hearing Mr. Briggs coming 
 down the stairs, upon which, abruptly breaking off his 
 complaints, he held up his finger to his nose in token of 
 secresy, and ran hastily into the kitchen. 
 
 The appearance of Mr. Briggs was by no means rendered 
 more attractive by illness and negligence of dress. He 
 had on a flannel gown and night cap ; his black beard, of 
 many days growth, was long and grim, and upon his nose 
 and one of his cheeks was a large patch of brown paper, 
 which, as he entered the room, he held on with both his 
 hands. 
 
 Cecilia made many apologies for having disturbed him, 
 and some civil enquiries concerning his health. 
 
 " Ay, ay," cried he, pettishly, " bad enough ; all along 
 of that trumpery masquerade ; wish I had not gone ! Fool 
 for my pains." 
 
 " When were you taken ill, sir ? " 
 
 " Met with an accident ; got a fall, broke my head, like 
 to have lost my wig. Wish the masquerade at old Nick ! 
 thought it would cost nothing, or would not have gone. 
 Warrant sha'n't get me so soon to another ! " 
 
 " Did you fall in going home, sir ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, plump in the kennel ; could hardly get out of 
 it ; felt myself a going, was afraid to tear my clothes, 
 knew the rascal would make me pay for them, so by hold- 
 ing tip the old sack, came bolt on my face ! off pops 
 mv wig > could not tell what to do ; all as dark as 
 pitch ! " 
 
 " Did not you call for help ? " 
 
 " Nobody by but scrubs, knew they would not help for 
 nothing. Scrawled out as I could, groped about for my 
 wig, found it at last, all soused in the mud ; stuck to my 
 Lead like Turner's cerate." 
 
 " I hope, then, you got into a hackney coach ? " 
 
 " What for ? to make things worse ? was not bad 
 enough, hay ? must pay two shillings beside ? " 
 
 " But how did you find yourself when you got home, 
 sir?" 
 
 " How ? why wet as muck ; my head all bumps, my
 
 CECILIA. 173 
 
 cheek all cut, my nose big as two ! forced to wear a 
 plaister ; half mined in vinegar. Got a great cold : put 
 me in a fever ; never been well since." 
 
 " But have you had no advice, sir ? should not you send 
 for a physician ? " 
 
 " What to do, hay ? fill me with jallop ? can get it my- 
 self, can't I ? Had one once ; was taken very bad, thought 
 should have popt off ; began to flinch, sent for the doctor, 
 proved nothing but a cheat ! cost me a guinea, gave it at 
 
 fourth visit, and he never came again ! warrant won't 
 
 have no more ?" 
 
 Then, perceiving upon the table some dust from the 
 pencil, "What's here?" cried he, angrily, "who's been 
 cutting the pencil ? wish they were hanged ; suppose it's 
 the boy ; deserves to be horse-whipped : give him a good 
 banging." 
 
 Cecilia immediately cleared him, by acknowledging she 
 had herself been the culprit. 
 
 " Ay, ay," cried he, " thought as much all the time ! 
 guessed how it was ; nothing but ruin and waste ; sending 
 for money, nobody knows why ; wanting 600 what to 
 do ? throw it in the dirt ? Never heard the like ! Shan't 
 have it, promise you that," nodding his head, " shan't have 
 no such thing ! " 
 
 " Shan't have it ? " cried Cecilia, much surprised, " why 
 not, sir?" 
 
 " Keep it for your husband ; get you one soon : won't 
 have no juggling. Don't be in a hurry ; one in my eye." 
 
 Cecilia then began a very earnest expostulation, assuring 
 him. she really wanted the money, for an occasion which 
 would not admit of delay. 
 
 Her remonstrances, however, he wholly disregarded, 
 telling her that girls knew nothing of the value of money, 
 and ought not to be trusted with it ; that he would not 
 hear of such extravagance, and was resolved not to advance 
 her a penny. 
 
 Cecilia was both provoked and confounded by a refusal 
 so unexpected, and as she thought herself bound in honour 
 to Mr. Harrel not to make known the motive of her 
 urgency, she was for some time totally silenced : till re- 
 collecting her account with the bookseller, she determined
 
 174 CECILIA. 
 
 to rest her plea upon that, persuaded that he could not, at 
 least, deny her money to pay her own bills. 
 
 He heard her, however, with the utmost contempt ; 
 " Books ? " he cried, " what do you want with books ? do 
 no good ; all lost time ; words get no cash." 
 
 She informed him his admonitions were now too late, as 
 she had already received them, and must therefore neces- 
 sarily pay for them. 
 
 " No, no," cried he, " send 'em back, that's best ; keep no 
 such rubbish, won't turn to account ; do better without 'em." 
 
 " That, sir, will be impossible, for I have had them 
 some time, and cannot expect the bookseller to take them 
 again." 
 
 "Must, must," cried he, "can't help himself; glad to 
 have 'em too. Are but a minor, can't be made pay a 
 farthing." 
 
 Cecilia with much indignation heard such fraud re- 
 commended, and told him she could by no means consent 
 to follow his advice. But she soon found, to her utter 
 amazement, that he steadily refused to give her any other, 
 or to bestow the slightest attention upon her expostulations, 
 sturdily saying that her uncle had left her a noble estate, 
 and he would take care to see it put in proper hands, by 
 getting her a good and careful husband. 
 
 " I have no intention, no wish, sir," cried she, "to break 
 into the income or estate left me by my uncle ; on the con- 
 trary, I hold them sacred, and think myself bound in 
 conscience never to live beyond them : but the 10,000 
 bequeathed me by my father, I regard as more peculiarly 
 my own property, and therefore think myself at liberty to 
 dispose of it as I please." 
 
 " What," cried he, in a rage, "make it over to a scrubby 
 bookseller ! give it up for an old pot-hook ? no, no, won't 
 suffer it ; sha'n't be, sha'n't be, I say ! if you want some 
 books, go to Moorfields, 1 pick up enough at an old stall ; 
 get 'em at two-pence a-piece; dear enough too." 
 
 ' Moorfields, a fen now covered by streets, was besides being a 
 muster and a play-ground, a bleaching and drying ground for 
 laundresses, and " second-hand-books were sold under the trees in 
 Moorfields " " A penny history that hangs upon the rails in Moor- 
 fields." GRAT to WHARTON.
 
 CECILIA. 175 
 
 Cecilia for some time hoped he was merely indulging his 
 strange and sordid humour, by an opposition that was only 
 intended to tease her ; but she soon found herself extremely 
 mistaken ; he was immoveable in obstinacy, as he was in- 
 corrigible in avarice ; he neither troubled himself with en- 
 quiries nor reasoning, but was contented with refusing her 
 as a child might be refused, by peremptorily telling her 
 she did not know what she wanted, and therefore should 
 not have what she asked. 
 
 And with this answer, after all that she could urge, she 
 was compelled to leave the house, as he complained that 
 his brown paper plaister wanted fresh dipping in vinegar, 
 and he could stay talking no longer. 
 
 The disgust with which this behaviour filled her, was 
 doubled by the shame and concern of returning to the 
 Harrels with her promise unperformed. She deliberated 
 upon every method that occurred to her of still endeavour- 
 ing to serve them, but could suggest nothing, except trying 
 to prevail upon Mr. Delvile to interfere in her favour. 
 She liked not, indeed, the office of solicitation to so 
 haughty a man, but, having no other expedient, her repug- 
 nance gave way to her generosity, and she ordered the 
 chairmen to carry her to St. James's-square. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A PERPLEXITY. 
 
 AND here, at the door of his father's house, and just 
 ascending the steps, she perceived young Delvile. 
 
 "Again!" cried he, handing her out of the chair, 
 " surely some good genius is at work for me this morn- 
 ing ! " 
 
 She told him she should not have called so early, now 
 she was acquainted with the late hours of Mrs. Delvile, 
 but that she merely meant to speak with his father, for 
 two minutes upon business. 
 
 He attended her up stairs : and finding she was in haste, 
 went himself with her message to Mr. Delvile : and soon
 
 176 CECILIA. 
 
 returned with an answer that he would wait upon her 
 presently. 
 
 The strange speeches he had made to her when they 
 first met in the morning, now recurring to her memory, 
 she determined to have them explained, and in order to 
 lead to the subject, mentioned the disagreeable situation in 
 which he had found her, while she was standing up to 
 avoid the sight of the condemned malefactors. 
 
 " Indeed ! " cried he, in a tone of voice somewhat in- 
 credulous, " and was that the purpose for which you stood 
 up?" 
 
 " Certainly, sir; what other could I have ?" 
 
 " ISTone, surely ! " said he, smiling, " but the accident was 
 singularly opportune." 
 
 " Opportune ?" cried Cecilia, staring, " how opportune ? 
 this is the second time in the same morning that I am not 
 able to understand you ? " 
 
 " How should you understand what is so little intelli- 
 gible?" 
 
 " I see you have some meaning which I cannot fathom, 
 why, else, should it be so extraordinary that I should 
 endeavour to avoid a mob ? or how could it be opportune 
 that I should happen to meet with one ? " 
 
 He laughed at first without making any answer ; but 
 perceiving she looked at him with impatience, he, half 
 gaily, half reproachfully, said, " Whence is it that young 
 ladies, even such whose principles are most strict, seem 
 universally, in those affairs where their affections are con- 
 cerned, to think hypocrisy necessary, and deceit amiable ? 
 and hold it graceful to disavow to-day, what they may 
 perhaps mean publicly to acknowledge to-morrow ? " 
 
 Cecilia, who heard these questions with unfeigned 
 astonishment, looked at him with the utmost eagerness for 
 an explanation. 
 
 " Do you so much wonder," he continued, " that I 
 should have hoped in Miss Beverley to have seen some 
 deviation from such rules ? and have expected more open- 
 ness and candour in a young lady who has given so noble 
 a proof of the liberality of her mind and understanding ? " 
 
 " You amaze me beyond measure ! " cried she, " what 
 rules, what candour, what liberality do you mean ? "
 
 CECILIA. 177 
 
 " Must I speak yet more plainly ? and if I do, will you 
 bear to hear me ? " 
 
 " Indeed I should be extremely glad if you would give 
 me leave to understand you." 
 
 " And may I tell you what has charmed me, as well as 
 what I have presumed to wonder at ? " 
 
 " You may tell me any thing, if you will but be less 
 mysterious." 
 
 " Forgive then the frankness you invite, and let me 
 acknowledge to you how greatly I honour the nobleness of 
 your conduct. Surrounded as you are by the opulent and 
 the splendid, unshackled by dependence, unrestrained by 
 authority, blest by nature with all that is attractive, by 
 situation with all that is desirable, to slight the rich, and 
 disregard the powerful, for the purer pleasure of raising 
 oppressed merit, and giving to desert that wealth in which 
 alone it seemed deficient how can a spirit so liberal be 
 sufficiently admired, or a choice of so much dignity be too 
 highly extolled ? " 
 
 " I find," cried Cecilia, " I must forbear any further en- 
 quiry, for the more I hear, the less I understand." 
 
 " Pardon me, then," cried he, " if here, I return to my 
 first question ; whence is it that a young lady, who can 
 think so nobly, and act so disinterestedly, should not be 
 uniformly great, simple in truth, and unaffected in sincerity ? 
 Why should she be thus guarded, where frankness would 
 do her so much honour ? Why blush in owning what all 
 others may blush in envying ? " 
 
 " Indeed, you perplex me intolerably; " cried Cecilia, with 
 some vexation, " Why, sir, will you not be more explicit?" 
 
 " And why, madam," returned he, with a laugh, " would 
 you tempt me to be more impertinent ? have I not said 
 strange things already ? " 
 
 " Strange indeed," cried she, "for not one of them can I 
 comprehend ! " 
 
 " Pardon, then," cried he, " and forget them all ! I 
 scarce know myself what urged me to say them, but I 
 began inadvertently, without intending to go on, and I have 
 proceeded involuntarily, without knowing how to stop. 
 The fault, however, is ultimately your own, for the sight of 
 you creates an insurmountable desire to converse with you, 
 
 N
 
 178 CECILIA. 
 
 and your conversation a propensity equally incorrigible, to 
 take some interest in your welfare." 
 
 He would then have changed the discourse, and Cecilia, 
 ashamed of pressing him further, was for some time silent ; 
 but when one of the servants came to inform her that his 
 master meant to wait upon her directly, her unwillingness 
 to leave the matter in suspense, induced her, somewhat 
 abruptly, to say, " Perhaps, sir, you are thinking of Mr. 
 Belfield?" 
 
 " A happy conjecture ! " cried he, " but so wild a one, I 
 cannot but marvel how it should occur to you ! " 
 
 " Well, sir," said she, " I must acknowledge I now un- 
 derstand your meaning ; but with respect to what has given 
 rise to it, I am as much a stranger as ever." 
 
 The entrance of Mr. Delvile here closed the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 He began with his usual ostentatious apologies, declaring 
 he had so many people to attend, so many complaints to 
 hear, and so many grievances to redress, that it was impos- 
 sible for him to wait upon her sooner, and not without 
 difficulty that he waited upon her now. 
 
 Meantime, his son almost immediately retired : and 
 Cecilia, instead of listening to this harangue, was only dis- 
 turbing herself with conjectures upon what had just passed. 
 She saw that young Delvile concluded she was absolutely 
 engaged to Mr. Belfield, and though she was better pleased 
 that any suspicion should fall there than upon Sir Robert 
 Floyer, she was yet both provoked and concerned to be sus- 
 pected at all. An attack so earnest from almost any other 
 person could hardly have failed being very offensive to her, 
 but in the manners of young Delvile good breeding was so 
 happily blended with frankness, that his freedom seemed 
 merely to result from the openness of his disposition, and 
 even in its very act pleaded its own excuse. 
 
 Her reverie was at length interrupted by Mr. Delvile's 
 desiring to know in what he could serve her. 
 
 She told him she had present occasion for 600, and 
 hoped he would not object to her taking up that sum. 
 
 " Six hundred pounds," said he, after some deliberation, 
 "is rather an extraordinary demand for a young lady in your 
 situation ; your allowance is considerable, you have yet no
 
 CECILIA. 179 
 
 house, no equipage, no establishment ; your expenses, I 
 should imagine, cannot be very great " 
 
 He stopt, and seemed weighing her request. 
 
 Cecilia, shocked at appearing extravagant, yet too gene- 
 rous to mention Mr. Harrel, had again recourse to her 
 bookseller's bill, which she told him she was anxious to 
 discharge. 
 
 "A bookseller's bill?" cried he; "and do you want 
 600 for a bookseller's bill ? " 
 
 " No, sir," said she, stammering, " no, not all for that, 
 I have some other I have a particular occasion " 
 
 " But what bill at all," cried he, with much surprise, 
 " can a young lady have with a bookseller ? The Spectator, 
 Tatler, and Guardian, would make library sufficient for any 
 female in the kingdom, nor do I think it like a gentlewoman 
 to have more. Besides, if you ally yourself in such a 
 manner as I shall approve and recommend, you will, in all 
 probability, find already collected more books than there can 
 ever be any possible occasion for you to look into. And let 
 me counsel you to remember, that a lady, whether so called 
 from birth or only from fortune, should never degrade her- 
 self by being put on a level with writers, and such sort of 
 people." 
 
 Cecilia thanked him for his advice, but confessed that 
 upon the present occasion it came too late, as the books were 
 now actually in her own possession. 
 
 " And have you taken," cried he, " such a measure as this 
 without consulting me ? I thought I had assured you my 
 opinion was always at your service when you were in any 
 dilemma." 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered Cecilia; "but I knew how much 
 you were occupied, and wished to avoid taking up your time." 
 
 " I cannot blame your modesty," he replied, " and there- 
 fore, as you have contracted the debt, you are, in honour, 
 bound to pay it. Mr. Briggs, however, has the entire 
 management of your fortune, my many avocations obliging 
 me to decline so laborious a trust ; apply, therefore, to him, 
 and, as things are situated, I will make no opposition to 
 your demand." 
 
 " I have already, sir," said Cecilia, " spoke to Mr. Briggs, 
 but "
 
 180 CECILIA. 
 
 " You went to him first, then ? " interrupted Mr. Delvile, 
 with a look of much displeasure. 
 
 " I was unwilling, sir, to trouble you till I found it un- 
 avoidable." She then acquainted him with Mr. Briggs's 
 refusal, and entreated he would do her the favour to inter- 
 cede in her behalf, that the money might no longer be 
 denied her. 
 
 Every word she spoke, his pride seemed rising to resent, 
 and when she had done, after regarding her some time with 
 apparent indignation, he said, " I intercede ! I become an 
 agent ! " 
 
 Cecilia, amazed to find him thus violently irritated, made 
 a very earnest apology for her request ; but, without paying 
 her any attention, he walked up and down the room, ex- 
 claiming, " an agent ! and to Mr. Briggs ! This is an 
 affront I could never have expected ! why did I degrade 
 myself by accepting this humiliating office ! I ought to 
 hare known better ! " Then, turning to Cecilia, " Child," 
 he added, " for whom is it you take me, and for what ? " 
 
 Cecilia again, though affronted in her turn, began some 
 protestations of respect ; but, haughtily interrupting her, 
 he said, " If of me, and of my rank in life, you judge by 
 Mr. Briggs or by Mr. Harrel, I may be subject to proposals 
 such as these every day ; suffer me, therefore, for your 
 better information, to hint to you, that the head of an 
 ancient and honourable house, is apt to think himself some- 
 what superior to people but just rising from dust and 
 obscurity." 
 
 Thunderstruck by this imperious reproof, she could 
 attempt no further vindication ; but when he observed her 
 consternation, he was somewhat appeased, and hoping he 
 had now impressed her with a proper sense of his dignity, 
 he more gently said, " You did not, I believe, intend to 
 insult me." 
 
 " Good Heaven, sir ; no ! " cried Cecilia, " nothing was 
 more distant from my thoughts ; if my expressions have 
 been faulty, it has been wholly from ignorance." 
 
 " Well, well, we will think then no more of it." 
 
 She then said she would no longer detain him; and, with- 
 out daring to again mention her petition, she wished him 
 good morning.
 
 CECILIA. 181 
 
 He suffered her to go, yet as she left the room, graciously 
 said, " Think no more of my displeasure, for it is over : I 
 see you were not aware of the extraordinary thing you pro- 
 posed. I am sorry I cannot possibly assist you ; on any 
 other occasion you may depend upon my services : but you 
 know Mr. Briggs, you have seen him yourself judge, then, 
 how a man of any fashion, is to accommodate himself with 
 such a person ! " 
 
 Cecilia concurred, and curtsying, took her leave. 
 
 " Ah ! " thought she, in her way home, " how happy is it 
 for me that I followed the advice of Mr. Monckton ! else I 
 had surely made interest to become an inmate of that 
 house, and then indeed, as he wisely foresaw, I should in- 
 evitably have been overwhelmed by this pompous insolence. 
 'No family, however amiable, could make amends for such 
 a master of it."
 
 182 CECILIA. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AN ADMONITION. 
 
 THE Harrels and Mr. Arnott waited the return of Cecilia 
 with the utmost impatience; she told them \vith 
 much concern the failure of her embassy, which Mr. Harrel 
 heard with visible resentment and discontent, while Mi-. 
 Arnott, entreating him not to think of it, again made an 
 offer of his services, and declared he would disregard all 
 personal inconvenience for the pleasure of making him and 
 his sister easy. 
 
 Cecilia was much mortified that she had not the power 
 to act the same part, and asked Mr. Harrel whether he 
 believed his own influence with Mr. Briggs would be more 
 successful. 
 
 " No, no," answered he, " the old curmudgeon would 
 but the rather refuse. I know his reason, and therefore 
 am sure all pleas will be vain. He has dealings in the 
 alley, and I dare say games with your money as if it were 
 
 his own. There is, indeed, one way but I do not 
 
 think you would like it though I protest I hardly know 
 
 why not however, 'tis as well let alone." 
 
 Cecilia insisted upon hearing what he meant, and after 
 some hesitation, he hinted that there were means, by 
 which, with very little inconvenience, she might borrow 
 the money. 
 
 Cecilia, with that horror natural to all unpractised minds 
 at the first idea of contracting a voluntary debt, started at 
 this suggestion, and seemed very ill disposed to listen to 
 it. Mr. Harrel, perceiving her repugnance, turned to Mr.
 
 CECILIA. 183 
 
 Arnott, and said, " Well, my good brother, I hardly know 
 how to suffer you to sell out at such a loss, but yet, my 
 present necessity is so urgent " 
 
 " Don't mention it," cried Mr. Arnott ; " I am very 
 sorry I let you know it ; be certain however, that while I 
 have any thing, it is yours and my sister's." 
 
 The two gentlemen were then retiring together ; but 
 Cecilia, shocked for Mr. Arnott, though unmoved by Mr. 
 Harrel, stopt them to enquire what was the way by which 
 it was meant she could borrow the money ? 
 
 Mr. Harrel seemed averse to answer, but she would not 
 be refused ; and then he mentioned a Jew, of whose 
 honesty he had made undoubted trial, and who, as she was 
 so near being of age, would accept very trifling interest for 
 whatever she should like to take up. 
 
 The heart of Cecilia recoiled at the very mention of a 
 Jew, and taking up money upon interest ; but impelled 
 strongly by her own generosity to emulate that of Mr. 
 Arnott, she agreed, after some hesitation, to have recourse 
 to this method. 
 
 Mr. Harrel then made some faint denials, and Mr. Arnott 
 protested he had a thousand times rather sell out at any 
 discount, than consent to her taking such a measure ; but, 
 when her first reluctance was conquered, all that he urged 
 served but to show his worthiness in a stronger light, and 
 only encreased her desire of saving him from such repeated 
 imposition. 
 
 Her total ignorance in what manner to transact this 
 business, made her next put it wholly into the hands of 
 Mr. Harrel, whom she begged to take up 600 upon such 
 terms as he thought equitable, and to which, whatever 
 they might be, she would sign her name. 
 
 He seemed somewhat surprised at the sum, but without 
 any question or objection undertook the commission : and 
 Cecilia would not lessen it, because unwilling to do more 
 for the security of the luxurious Mr. Harrel, than for the 
 distresses of the laborious Hills. 
 
 Nothing could be more speedy than the execution of this 
 affair, Mr. Harrel was diligent and expert, the whole was 
 settled that morning, and, giving to the Jew her bond for 
 the payment at the interest he required, she put into the
 
 184 CECILIA. 
 
 hands of Mr. Harrel 350, for which he gave his receipt, 
 and she kept the rest for her own purposes. 
 
 She intended the morning after this transaction to settle 
 her account with the bookseller. When she went into the 
 parlour to breakfast, she was somewhat surprised to see 
 Mr. Harrel seated there, in earnest discourse with his wife. 
 Fearful of interrupting a tete a tete so uncommon, she 
 would have retired, but Mr. Harrel, calling after her, said, 
 " 0, pray come in ! I am only telling Priscilla a piece of my 
 usual ill luck. You must know I happen to be in imme- 
 diate want of 200, though only for three or four days, 
 and I sent to order honest old Aaron to come hither 
 directly with the money ; but it so happens that he went 
 out of town the moment he had done with us yesterday, 
 and will not be back again this week. Now, I don't 
 believe there is another Jew in the kingdom who will let 
 me have money upon the same terms : they are such 
 notorious rascals, that I hate the very thought of employ- 
 ing them." 
 
 Cecilia, who could not but understand what this meant, 
 was too much displeased both by his extravagance and his 
 indelicacy, to feel at all inclined to change the destination 
 of the money she had just received ; and therefore coolly 
 agreed that it was unfortunate, but added nothing more. 
 
 "0, it is provoking indeed," cried he, "for the extra 
 interest I must pay one of those extortioners is absolutely 
 so much money thrown away." 
 
 Cecilia, still without noticing these hints, began her 
 breakfast. Mr. Harrel then said he would take his tea 
 with them ; and while he was buttering some dry toast, 
 exclaimed, as if from sudden recollection, " Lord, now I 
 think of it, I believe, Miss Beverley, you can lend me this 
 money yourself for a day or two. The moment old Aaron 
 comes to town, I will pay you." 
 
 Cecilia, whose generosity, however extensive, was neither 
 thoughtless nor indiscriminate, found something so repul- 
 sive in this gross procedure, that instead of assenting to 
 his request with her usual alacrity, she answered very 
 gravely, that the money she had just received was already 
 appropriated to a particular purpose, and she knew not 
 how to defer making use of it.
 
 CECILIA. 185 
 
 Mr. Harrel was extremely chagrined by this reply, which 
 was by no means what he expected ; but, tossing down a 
 dish of tea, he began humming an air, and soon recovered 
 his usual unconcern. 
 
 In a few minutes, ringing his bell, he desired a servant 
 to go to Mr. Zackery, and inform him that he wanted to 
 speak with him immediately. 
 
 " And now," said he, with a look in which vexation 
 seemed struggling with carelessness, " the thing is done ! I 
 don't like, indeed, to get into such hands, for 'tis hard ever 
 to get out of them, when once one begins, and hitherto I 
 have kept pretty clear. But there is no help for it Mr. 
 Arnott cannot just now assist me and so the thing must 
 take its course. Priscilla, why do you look so grave ? " 
 
 " I am thinking how unlucky it is my brother should 
 happen to be unable to lend you this money." 
 
 " O, don't think about it ; I shall get rid of the man very 
 soon, I dare say ; I shall pay him off in a very few days, 
 I hope so, at least I am sure I mean it." 
 
 Cecilia now grew a little disturbed ; she looked at Mrs. 
 Harrel, who seemed also uneasy, and then, with some hesi- 
 tation, said "Have you really never, sir, employed this 
 man before ? " 
 
 " Never in my life : never any but old Aaron. I dread 
 the whole race ; I have a sort of superstitious notion that 
 if once I get into their clutches, I shall never be my own 
 man again ; and that induced me to beg your assistance. 
 However, 'tis no great matter." 
 
 She then began to waver ; she feared there might be 
 future mischief as well as present inconvenience, in his 
 applying to new userers, and knowing she had now the 
 power to prevent him, thought herself half cruel in refus- 
 ing to exert it. She wished to consult Mr. Monckton, but 
 found it necessary to take her measures immediately, as the 
 Jew was already sent for, and must in a few moments be 
 either employed or discarded. 
 
 Much perplext how to act, between a desire of doing 
 good, and a fear of encouraging evil, she weighed each side 
 hastily, but while still uncertain which ought to preponde- 
 rate, her kindness for Mrs. Harrel interfered, and, in the 
 hope of rescuing her husband from further bad practices,
 
 186 CECILIA. 
 
 she said she would postpone her own business for the few 
 days he mentioned, rather than see him compelled to open 
 any new account with so dangerous a set of men. 
 
 He thanked her in his usual negligent manner, and ac- 
 cepting the 200, gave her his receipt for it, and a promise 
 she should be paid in a week. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, however, seemed more grateful, and with 
 many embraces spoke her sense of this friendly good- 
 nature. Cecilia, happy from believing she had revived in 
 her some spark of sensibility, determined to avail herself 
 of so favourable a symptom, and enter at once upon the 
 disagreeable task she had set herself, of representing to her 
 the danger of her present situation. 
 
 As soon, therefore, as breakfast was done, and Mr. 
 Arnott, who came in before it was over, was gone, with a 
 view to excite her attention by raising her curiosity, she 
 begged the favour of a private conference in her own 
 room, upon matters of some importance. 
 
 She began with hoping that the friendship in which they 
 had so long lived would make her pardon the liberty she 
 was going to take, and which nothing less than their former 
 intimacy, joined to strong apprehensions for her future 
 welfare, could authorise ; " But, oh, Priscilla ! " she con- 
 tinued, " with open eyes to see your danger, yet not warn 
 you of it, would be a reserve treacherous in a friend, and 
 cruel even in a fellow-creature." 
 
 "What danger?" cried Mrs. Harrel, much alarmed, 
 " do you think me ill ? do I look consumptive ? " 
 
 " Yes, consumptive indeed ! " said Cecilia, " but not, I 
 hope, in your constitution." 
 
 And then, with all the tenderness in her power, she came 
 to the point, and conjured her without delay to retrench her 
 expenses, and change her thoughtless way of life for one 
 more considerate and domestic. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, with much simplicity, assured her she did 
 nothing but what everybody else did, and that it was quite im- 
 possible for her to appear in the world in any other manner. 
 
 " But how are you to appear hereafter ? " cried Cecilia, 
 " if now you live beyond your income, you must consider 
 that, in time, your income by such depredations will be 
 exhausted."
 
 CECILIA. 187 
 
 " But, I declare to you," answered Mrs. Harrel, " I never 
 run in debt for more than half a year, for as soon as I receive 
 my own money, I generally pay it away every shilling : and 
 so borrow what I want till pay day comes round again." 
 
 " And that," said Cecilia, " seems a method expressly 
 devised for keeping you eternally comfortless : pardon me, 
 however, for speaking so openly, but I fear Mr. Harrel him- 
 self must be even still less attentive and accurate in his 
 affairs, or he could not so frequently be embarrassed. And 
 what is to be the result ? look but, my dear Priscilla, a little 
 forward, and you will tremble at the prospect before you ! " 
 
 Mrs. Harrel seemed frightened at this speech, and begged 
 to know what she would have them do ? 
 
 Cecilia then, with equal wisdom and friendliness, proposed 
 a general reform in the household, the public and private 
 expenses of both : she advised that a strict examination 
 might be made into the state of their affairs, that all their 
 bills should be called in, and faithfully paid, and that an 
 entire new plan of life should be adopted, according to the 
 situation of their fortune and income when cleared of all 
 incumbrances. 
 
 " Lord, my dear ! " exclaimed Mrs. Harrel, with a look 
 of astonishment, " why Mr. Harrel would no more do all 
 this than fly ! If I was only to make such a proposal, I 
 dare say he would laugh in my face." 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 " Why ? why because it would seem such an odd thing 
 it's what nobody thinks of though I am sure I am very 
 much obliged to you for mentioning it. Shall we go down 
 stairs ? I think I heard somebody come in." 
 
 " No matter who comes in," said Cecilia, "reflect for a 
 moment upon my proposal, and, at least, if you disapprove 
 it, suggest something more eligible." 
 
 " O, it's a very good proposal, that I agree," said Mrs. 
 Harrel, looking very weary, " but only the thing is, it's quite 
 impossible." 
 
 " Why so ? why is it impossible ? " 
 
 "Why because dear, I don't know but I am sure it 
 is." 
 
 " But what is your reason ? What makes you sure of 
 it?"
 
 188 CECILIA. 
 
 " Lord, I can't tell but I know it is because I am 
 very certain it is." 
 
 Argument such as this, though extremely fatiguing to the 
 understanding of Cecilia, had yet no power to blunt her 
 purpose: she warmly expostulated against the weakness of 
 her defence, strongly represented the imprudence of her 
 conduct, and exhorted her by every tie of justice, honour 
 and discretion to set about a reformation. 
 
 " Why, what can I do ? " cried Mrs. Harrel, impatiently, 
 " one must live a little like other people. You would not 
 have me be stared at, I suppose ; and I am sure I don't 
 know what I do that everybody else does not do too." 
 
 " But were it not better," said Cecilia, with more energy, 
 4 ' to think less of other people, and more of yourself? to con- 
 sult your own fortune, and your own situation in life, instead 
 of being blindly guided by those of other people ? If, indeed, 
 other people would be responsible for your losses, for the 
 diminution of your wealth, and for the disorder of your 
 affairs, then might you rationally make their way of life 
 the example of yours : but you cannot flatter yourself such 
 will be the case ; you know better ; your losses, your 
 diminished fortune, your embarrassed circumstances will 
 be all your own ! pitied, perhaps, by some, but blamed by 
 more, and assisted by none ! " 
 
 " Good Lord, Miss Beverley ! " cried Mrs. Harrel, start- 
 ing, " you talk just as if we were ruined ! " 
 
 " I mean not that," replied Cecilia, " but I would fain, by 
 pointing out your danger, prevail with you to prevent in 
 time so dreadful a catastrophe." 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, more affronted than alarmed, heard this 
 answer with much displeasure, and after a sullen hesitation, 
 peevishly said, " I must own I don't take it very kind of 
 you to say such frightful things to me : I am sure we only 
 live like the rest of the world, and I don't see why a man 
 of Mr. Barrel's fortune should live any worse. As to his 
 having now and then a little debt or two, it is nothing but 
 what every body else has. You only think it so odd, 
 because you a'n't used to it : but you are quite mistaken if 
 you suppose he does not mean to pay, for he told me this 
 morning, that as soon as ever he receives his rents, he 
 intends to discharge every bill he has in the world."
 
 CECILIA. 189 1 
 
 " I am very glad to hear it," answered Cecilia, " and I 
 heartily wish he may have the resolution to adhere to his 
 purpose. I feared you would think me impertinent, but 
 you do worse in believing me unkind : friendship and good- 
 will could alone have induced me to hazard what I have 
 said to you. I must, however, have done ; though I cannot 
 forbear adding that I hope what has already passed will 
 sometimes recur to you." 
 
 They then separated ; Mrs. Harrel half angry at remon- 
 strances she thought only censorious, and Cecilia offended 
 at her pettishness and folly, though grieved at her blindness. 
 
 She was soon, however, recompensed for this vexation by 
 a visit from Mrs. Delvile, who, finding her alone, sat with 
 her some time, and by her spirit, understanding and ele- 
 gance, dissipated all her chagrin. 
 
 From another circumstance, also, she received much 
 pleasure, though a little perplexity ; Mr. Arnott brought 
 her word that Mr. Belfield, almost quite well, had actually 
 left his lodgings, and was gone into the country. 
 
 She now half suspected that the account of his illness 
 given her by young Delvile, was merely the effect of his 
 curiosity to discover her sentiments of him ; yet when she 
 considered how foreign to his character appeared every 
 species of artifice, she exculpated him from the design, and" 
 concluded that the impatient spirit of Belfield had hurried 
 him away, when really unfit for travelling. She had no 
 means, however, to hear more of him now he had quitted 
 the town, and therefore, though uneasy, she was compelled 
 to be patient. 
 
 In the evening she had again a visit from Mr. Monckton r 
 who, though he was now acquainted how much she was 
 at home, had the forbearance to avoid making frequent 
 use of that knowledge, that his attendance might escape 
 observation. 
 
 Cecilia, as usual, spoke to him of all her affairs with the 
 utmost openness ; and as her mind was now chiefly occupied 
 by her apprehensions for the Harrels, she communicated to 
 him the extravagance of which they were guilty, and hinted 
 at the distress that from time to time it occasioned ; but 
 the assistance she had afforded them her own delicacy pre- 
 vented her mentioning.
 
 190 CECILIA. 
 
 Mr. Monckton scrupled not from this account instantly 
 to pronounce Harrel a ruined man; and thinking Cecilia, 
 from her connection with him, in much danger of being 
 involved in his future difficulties, he most earnestly ex- 
 horted her to suffer no inducement to prevail with her to 
 advance him any money, confidently affirming she would 
 have little chance of being ever repaid. 
 
 Cecilia listened to this charge with much alarm, but 
 readily promised future circumspection. She confessed to 
 him the conference she had had in the morning with Mrs. 
 Harrel, and after lamenting her determined neglect of her 
 affairs, she added, " I cannot but own that my esteem for 
 her, even more than my affection, has lessened almost every 
 day since I have been in her house ; but this morning, when 
 I ventured to speak to her with earnestness, I found her 
 powers of reasoning so weak, and her infatuation to luxury 
 and expense so strong, that I have ever since felt ashamed 
 of my own want of discernment, in having formerly selected 
 her for my friend." 
 
 " When you gave her that title," said Mr. Monckton, 
 " you had little choice in your power ; her sweetness and 
 good nature attracted you ; childhood is never troubled with 
 foresight, and youth is seldom difficult : she was lively and 
 pleasing, you were generous and affectionate ; your ac- 
 quaintance with her was formed while you were yet too 
 young to know your own worth ; your fondness of her grew 
 from habit; and before the inferiority of her parts had 
 weakened your regard, by offending your judgment, her 
 early marriage separated you from her entirely. But now 
 you meet again the scene is altered ; three years of absence 
 spent in the cultivation of an understanding naturally of 
 the first order, by encreasing your wisdom, has made you 
 more fastidious ; while the same time spent by her in mere 
 idleness and show, has hurt her disposition, without adding 
 to her knowledge, and robbed her of her natural excellencies, 
 without enriching her with acquired ones. You see her 
 now with impartiality, for you see her almost as a stranger, 
 find all those deficiencies which retirement and inexperience 
 had formerly concealed, her vanity, and her superficial ac- 
 quaintance with the world have now rendered glaring. 
 But folly weakens all bands ; remember, therefore, if you
 
 CECILIA.. 191 
 
 would form a solid friendship, to consult not only the heart 
 but the head, not only the temper, but the understanding." 
 
 " Well, then," said Cecilia, " at least it must be confessed 
 I have judiciously chosen you ! " 
 
 "You have, indeed, done me the highest honour," he 
 answered. 
 
 They then talked of Belfield; and Mr.Monckton confirmed 
 the account of Mr. Arnott, that he had left London in good 
 health. After which, he enquired if she had seen any thing 
 more of the Delviles ? 
 
 " Yes," said Cecilia, " Mrs. Delvile called upon me this 
 morning. She is a delightful woman ; I am sorry you know 
 her not enough to do her justice." 
 
 " Is she civil to you ? " 
 
 " Civil ? she is all kindness ! " 
 
 " Then depend upon it she has something in view : when- 
 ever that is not the case, she is all insolence. And Mr. 
 Delvile pray what do you think of him ? " 
 
 " 0, I think him insufferable ! and I cannot sufficiently 
 thank you for that timely caution which prevented my 
 change of habitation. I would not live under the same 
 roof with him for the world ! " 
 
 " Well, and do you not now begin also to see the son 
 properly ? " 
 
 " Properly ? I don't understand you." 
 
 "Why as the very son of such parents, haughty and 
 impertinent." 
 
 " No, indeed ; he has not the smallest resemblance of his 
 father, and if he resembles his mother, it is only what every 
 one must wish who impartially sees her." 
 
 " You know not that family. But how, indeed, should 
 you, when they are in a combination to prevent your getting 
 that knowledge ? They have all their designs upon you, 
 and if you are not carefully upon your guard, you will be 
 the dupe to them." 
 
 " What can you possibly mean ? " 
 
 " Nothing but what every body else must immediately 
 see ; they have a great share of pride, and a small one of 
 wealth ; you seem by fortune to be flung in their way, and 
 doubtless they mean not to neglect so inviting an oppor- 
 tunity of repairing their estates."
 
 192 CECILIA. 
 
 " Indeed you are mistaken ; I am certain they have no 
 such intention : on the contrary, they all even teasingly 
 persist in thinking me already engaged elsewhere." 
 
 She then gave him a history of their several suspicions. 
 "The impertinence of report," she added, "has so much 
 convinced them that Sir Robert Floyer-and Mr. Belfield 
 fought merely as rivals, that I can only clear myself of 
 partiality for one of them, to have it instantly concluded I 
 feel it for the other. And, far from seeming hurt that I 
 appear to be disposed of, Mr. Delvile openly seconds the 
 pretensions of Sir Robert, and his son officiously persuades 
 me that I am already Mr. Belfield's." 
 
 " Tricks, nothing but tricks to discover your real situa- 
 tion." 
 
 He then gave her some general cautions to be upon her 
 guard against their artifices, and changing the subject, 
 talked, for the rest of his visit, upon matters of general 
 entertainment. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN EVASION. 
 
 now for about a fortnight passed her time 
 without incident : the Barrels continued their ac- 
 customed dissipation ; Sir Robert Floyer, without even 
 seeking a private conference, persevered in his attentions ; 
 and Mr. Arnott, though still silent and humble, seemed 
 only to live by the pleasure of beholding her. She spent 
 two whole days with Mrs. Delvile, both of which served to 
 confirm her admiration of that lady and of her son ; and 
 she joined the parties of the Barrels, or stayed quietly at 
 home, according to her spirits and inclinations : while she 
 was visited by Mr. Monckton often enough to satisfy him 
 with her proceedings, yet too seldom to betray either to 
 herself or to the world any suspicion of his designs. 
 
 Her 200, however, which was to have been returned at 
 the end of the first week, though a fortnight had now 
 elapsed, had not even been mentioned : she began to grow
 
 CECILIA. 193 
 
 very impatient, but not knowing what course to pursue, 
 and wanting courage to remind Mr. Harrel of his 
 promise, she still waited the performance of it without 
 speaking. 
 
 At this time, preparations were making in the family for 
 removing to Violet Bank to spend the Easter holidays : 
 but Cecilia, who was too much grieved at such perpetual 
 encrease of unnecessary expenses to have any enjoyment in 
 new prospects of entertainment, had at present some busi- 
 ness of her own which gave her full employment. 
 
 The poor carpenter, whose family she had taken under 
 her protection, was just, dead, and, as soon as the last 
 duties had been paid him, she sent for his widow, and after 
 trying to console her for the loss she had suffered, assured 
 her she was immediately ready to fulfil the engagement 
 into which she had entered, of assisting her to undertake 
 some better method of procuring a livelihood ; and there- 
 fore desired to know in what manner she could serve her, 
 and what she thought herself able to do. 
 
 The good woman, pouring forth thanks and praises in- 
 numerable, answered that she had a cousin, who had 
 offered, for a certain premium, to take her into partner- 
 ship in a small haberdasher's shop. " But then, madam," 
 continued she, " it's quite morally impossible I should 
 raise such a sum, or else, to be sure, such a shop as that, 
 now I am grown so poorly, would be quite a heaven upon 
 earth to me : for my strength, madam, is almost all gone 
 away, and when I do any hard work, it's quite a piteous 
 sight to see me, for I am all in a tremble after it, just as if 
 I had an ague, and yet all the time my hands, madam, will 
 be burning like a coal ! " 
 
 " You have indeed been overworked," said Cecilia, " and 
 it is high time your feeble frame should have some rest. 
 What is the sum your cousin demands ? " 
 
 " 0, madam, more than I should be able to get together 
 in all my life ! for earn what I will, it goes as fast as it 
 comes, because there's many mouths, and small pay, and 
 two of the little ones that can't help at all ; and there's 
 no Billy, madam, to work for us now ! " 
 
 " But tell me, what is the sum ? " 
 
 " Sixty pound, madam." 
 

 
 194 CECILIA. 
 
 " You shall have it," cried the generous Cecilia, "if the 
 situation will make yon happy, I will give it you myself." 
 
 The poor woman wept her thanks, and was long before 
 she could sufficiently compose herself to answer the further 
 questions of Cecilia, who next enquired what could be done 
 with the children ? Mrs. Hill, however, hitherto hopeless 
 of such a provision for herself, had for them formed no 
 plan. She told her, therefore, to go to her cousin, and 
 consult upon this subject, as well as to make preparations 
 for her own removal. 
 
 The arrangement of this business now became her 
 favourite occupation. She went herself to the shop, which 
 was a very small one in Fetter-lane, and spoke with Mrs. 
 Roberts, the cousin ; who agreed to take the eldest girl, 
 now sixteen years of age, by way of helper ; but said she 
 had room for no other : however, upon Cecilia's offering to 
 raise the premium, she consented that the two little chil- 
 dren should also live in the house, where they might be 
 under the care of their mother and sister. 
 
 There were still two others to be disposed of ; but as no 
 immediate method of providing for them occurred to 
 Cecilia, she determined, for the present, to place them in 
 some cheap school, where they might be taught plain 
 work, which could not but prove a useful qualification for 
 whatever sort of business they might hereafter attempt. 
 
 Her plan was to bestow upon Mrs. Hill and her children 
 100 by way of putting them all into a decent way of 
 living ; and then, from time to time, to make them such 
 small presents as their future exigencies or changes of 
 situation might require. 
 
 Now, therefore, payment from Mr. Harrel became im- 
 mediately necessary, for she had only 50 of the 600 she 
 had taken up in her own possession, and her customaiy 
 allowance was already so appropriated that she could make 
 from it no considerable deduction. 
 
 There is something in the sight of laborious indigence so 
 affecting and so respectable, that it renders dissipation 
 peculiarly contemptible, and doubles the odium of extrava- 
 gance ; every time Cecilia saw this poor family, her aver- 
 sion to the conduct and the principles of Mr. Harrel 
 encreased, while her delicacy of shocking or shaming him
 
 C3CILIA. 195 
 
 diminished, and she soon acquired for them what she had 
 failed to acquire for herself, the spirit and resolution to 
 claim her debt. 
 
 One morning, therefore, as he was quitting the break- 
 fast-room, she hastily arose, and following, begged to have 
 a moment's discourse with him. They went together to 
 the library, and after some apologies, and much hesitation, 
 she told him she fancied he had forgotten the 200 which 
 she had lent him. 
 
 " The 200," cried he ; " O, ay, true ! I protest it had 
 escaped me. Well, but you don't want it immediately ? " 
 
 " Indeed I do, if you can conveniently spare it." 
 
 " O, yes, certainly without the least doubt. Though, 
 now I think of it it's extremely unlucky, but really, just 
 at this time why did not you put me in mind of it 
 before ?" 
 
 " I hoped you would have remembered it yourself." 
 
 " I could have paid you two days ago extremely well ; 
 however, you shall certainly have it very soon, that you. 
 may depend upon, and a day or two can make no great 
 difference to you." 
 
 He then wished her good morning, and left her. 
 
 Cecilia, very much provoked, regretted that she had ever 
 lent it at all, and determined for the future strictly to follow 
 the advice of Mr. Monckton in trusting him no more. 
 
 Two or three days passed on, but still no notice was 
 taken either of the payment or of the debt. She then 
 resolved to renew her application, and be more serious and 
 more urgent with him ; but she found, to her utter sur- 
 prise, this was not in her power, and that though she lived 
 under the same roof with him, she had no opportunity to 
 enforce her claim. Mr. Harrel, whenever she desired to 
 speak with him, protested he was so much hurried he had 
 not a moment to spare : and even, when, tired of his ex- 
 cuses, she pursued him out of the room, he only quickened 
 his speed, smiling, however, and bowing, and calling out 
 " I am vastly sorry, but I am so late now I cannot stop an 
 instant; however, as soon as I come back, I shall be 
 wholly at your command." 
 
 When he came back, however, Sir Kobert Floyer, or 
 some other gentleman, was sure to be with him, and the
 
 196 CECILIA. 
 
 difficulties of obtaining an audience were sure to be en- 
 creased. And by this method, which he constantly prac- 
 tised, of avoiding any private conversation, he frustrated 
 all her schemes of remonstrating upon his delay, since her 
 resentment, however great, could never urge her to the 
 indelicacy of dunning him in presence of a third person. 
 
 She was now much perplext herself how to put into 
 execution her plan for the Hills : she knew it would be 
 as vain to apply for money to Mr. Briggs, as for payment 
 to Mr. Harrel. Her word, however, had been given, and 
 her word she held sacred : she resolved, therefore, for the 
 present, to bestow upon them the 50 she still retained, 
 and, if the rest should be necessary before she became of 
 age, to spare it, however inconveniently, from her private 
 allowance, which, by the will of her uncle, was 500 a 
 year, 250 of which Mr. Harrel received for her board and 
 accommodations. 
 
 Having settled this matter in her own mind, she went to 
 the lodging of Mrs. Hill, in order to conclude the affair. 
 She found her and all her children, except the youngest, 
 hard at work, and their honest industry so much strength- 
 ened her compassion, that her wishes for serving them 
 grew every instant more liberal. 
 
 Mrs. Hill readily undertook to make her cousin accept 
 half the premium for the present, which would suffice to 
 fix her, with three of her children, in the shop : Cecilia 
 then went with her to Fetter-lane, and there, drawing up 
 herself an agreement for their entering into partnership, 
 she made each of them sign it and take a copy, and kept a 
 third in her own possession : after which, she gave a 
 promissory note to Mrs. Roberts for the rest of the money. 
 
 She presented Mrs. Hill, also, with 10 to clothe them 
 all decently, and enable her to send two of the children to 
 school ; and assured her that she would herself pay for 
 their board and instruction, till she should be established 
 in her business, and have power to save money for that 
 purpose. 
 
 She then put herself into a chair to return home, fol- 
 lowed by the prayers and blessings of the whole family.
 
 CECILIA. 197 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AN AD VENTURE. 
 
 "\T EVER had the heart of Cecilia felt so light, so gay, 
 *^ so glowing, as after the transaction of this affair : 
 her life had never appeared to her so important, nor her 
 wealth so valuable. To see five helpless children provided 
 for by herself, rescued from the extremes of penury and 
 wretchedness, and put in a way to become useful to society, 
 and comfortable to themselves ; to behold their feeble 
 mother, snatched from the hardship of that labour which, 
 over-powering her strength, had almost destroyed her 
 existence, now placed in a situation where a competent 
 maintenance might be earned without fatigue, and the 
 remnant of her days pass in easy employment to view 
 such sights, and have power to say " These deeds are 
 mine ! " what, to a disposition fraught with tenderness and 
 benevolence, could give purer self-applause, or more exqui- 
 site satisfaction ? 
 
 Such were the pleasures which regaled the reflections of 
 Cecilia, when, in her way home, having got out of her 
 chair to walk through the upper part of Oxford- Street, 
 she was suddenly met by the old gentleman whose em- 
 phatical addresses to her had so much excited her 
 astonishment. 
 
 He was passing quick on, but stopping the moment he 
 perceived her, he sternly called out, " Are you proud ? are 
 you callous ? are you hard of heart so soon ? " 
 
 " Put me, if you please, to some trial ! " cried Cecilia, 
 with the virtuous courage of a self-acquitting conscience. 
 
 "I already have!" returned he, indignantly, ''and al- 
 ready I have found you faulty ! " 
 
 " I am sorry to hear it," said the amazed Cecilia ; " but 
 at least I hope you will tell me in what ? " 
 
 " You refused me admittance," he answered, " yet I was 
 your friend, yet I was willing to prolong the term of your 
 genuine tranquillity ! I pointed out to you a method of 
 preserving peace with your own soul ; I came to you in
 
 198 CECILIA. 
 
 behalf of the poor, and instructed you how to merit their 
 prayers ; you heard me, you were susceptible, you com- 
 plied ! I meant to have repeated the lesson, to have turned 
 your whole heart to compassion, and to have taught you 
 the sad duties of sympathising humanity. For this pur- 
 pose I called again, but again I was not admitted ! Short 
 was the period of my absence, yet long enough for the 
 completion of your downfall ! " 
 
 " Good heaven," cried Cecilia, " how dreadful is this 
 language ! when have you called, sir ? I never heard you 
 had been at the house. Far from refusing you . admit- 
 tance, I wished to see you." 
 
 " Indeed ?" cried he, with some softness, "and are you, 
 in truth, not proud ? not callous ? not hard of heart ? 
 Follow me, then, and visit the humble and the poor, follow 
 me, and give comfort to the fallen and dejected ! " 
 
 At this invitation, however desirous to do good, Cecilia 
 started ; the strangeness of the inviter, his flightiness, his 
 authoritative manner, and the uncertainty whither or to 
 whom he might carry her, made her fearful of proceeding : 
 yet a benevolent curiosity to see as well as serve the objects 
 of his recommendation, joined to the eagerness of youthful 
 integrity to clear her own character from the aspersion of 
 hard-heartedness, soon conquered her irresolution, and, 
 making a sign to her servant to keep near her, she followed 
 as her conductor led. 
 
 He went on silently and solemnly till he came to Swallow- 
 street, 1 then turning into it, he stopt at a small and mean- 
 looking house, knocked at the door, and without asking any 
 question of the man who opened it, beckoned her to come 
 after him, and hastened up some narrow winding stairs. 
 
 Cecilia again hesitated ; but when she recollected that 
 this old man, though little known, was frequently seen, 
 and though with few people acquainted, was by many per- 
 sonally recognized, she thought it impossible he could 
 mean her any injury. She ordered her servant, however, 
 to come in, and bid him keep walking up and down the 
 
 1 Swallow Street, Piccadilly, is only a small part of a very long street, 
 " of no great account for buildings or inhabitants " (Strype), which ran 
 from Piccadilly to the Tyburn Eoad (Oxford Street), and is now merged 
 in Regent Street.
 
 CECILIA. 199 
 
 stairs till she returned to him. And then she obeyed the 
 directions of her guide. 
 
 He proceeded till he came to the second floor, then, 
 again beckoning her to follow him, he opened a door, and 
 entered a small and very meanly furnished apartment. 
 
 And here, to her infinite astonishment, she perceived, 
 employed in washing some china, a very lovely young 
 woman, genteelly dressed, and appearing hardly seventeen 
 years of age. 
 
 The moment they came in, with evident marks of con- 
 fusion, she instantly gave over her work, hastily putting 
 the bason she was washing upon the table, and endeavour- 
 ing to hide the towel with which she was wiping it, be- 
 hind her chair. 
 
 The old gentleman, advancing to her with quickness, 
 said, " How is he now ? is he better ? will he live ? " 
 
 "Heaven forbid he should not! " answered the young 
 woman with emotion, " but, indeed, he is no better ! " 
 
 " Look here," said he, pointing to Cecilia, " I have brought 
 you one who has power to serve you, and to relieve your 
 distress : one who is rolling in affluence, a stranger to ill, a 
 novice in the world ; unskilled in the miseries she is yet 
 to endure, unconscious of the depravity into which she is 
 to sink ! Receive her benefactions while yet she is un- 
 tainted, satisfied that while she aids you, she is blessing 
 herself ! " 
 
 The young woman, blushing and abashed, said, " You 
 are very good to me, sir, but there is no occasion there is 
 no need I have not any necessity I am far from being so 
 very much in want. " 
 
 " Poor simple soul ! " interrupted the old man, " and 
 art thou ashamed of poverty ? Guard, guard thyself from 
 other shames, and the wealthiest may envy thee ! Tell 
 here thy story, plainly, roundly, truly ; abate nothing of 
 thy indigence, repress nothing of her liberality. The Poor, 
 not impoverished by their own Guilt, are Equals of the 
 Affluent, not enriched by their own Virtue. Come, then, 
 and let me present ye to each other ! young as ye both are, 
 with many years and many sorrows to encounter, lighten 
 the burthen of each other's cares, by the heart-soothing 
 exchange of gratitude for beneficence ! "
 
 200 CECILIA. 
 
 He then took a Land of each, and joining them between 
 his own, " Ton," he continued, " who, though rich, are not 
 hardened, and you, who, though poor, are not debased, why 
 should ye not love, why should ye not cherish each other ? 
 The afflictions of life are tedious, its joys are evanescent ; 
 ye are now both young, and with little to enjoy, will find 
 much to suffer. Ye are both, too, I believe, innocent Oh, 
 could ye always remain so ! Cherubs were ye then, and 
 the sons of men might worship you ! " 
 
 He stopt, checked by his own rising emotion ; but soon 
 resuming his usual austerity, " Such, however," he con- 
 tinued, " is not the condition of humanity ; in pity, there- 
 fore, to the evils impending over both, be kind to each 
 other ! I leave you together, and to your mutual tender- 
 ness I recommend you ! " 
 
 Then, turning particularly to Cecilia, " Disdain not," he 
 said, " to console the depressed ; look upon her without 
 scorn, converse with her without contempt : like you, she is 
 an orphan, though not, like you, an heiress; like her you 
 are fatherless, though not like her friendless ! If she is 
 awaited by the temptations of adversity, you, also, are 
 surrounded by the corruptions of prosperity. Your fall is 
 most probable, her's most excusable ; commiserate lier, 
 therefore, now, by and by she may commiserate you ! " 
 
 And with these words he left the room. 
 
 A total silence for some time succeeded his departure : 
 Cecilia found it difficult to recover from the surprise into 
 
 1 ' " I was startled," said Mr. Cambridge, '' at the character at first ; 
 bin George has got an account of exactly such a man. George shall 
 tell it you." "The man,'"' said Mr. George Cambridge, "is an old half- 
 pay officer. His name, I think, is De la Port ; he almost lives in St. 
 James's Park, where he wanders up and down, looking about him for 
 any objects he thinks in distress. He then gives them all the money 
 he can spare, and he begs for them of his friends. He once borrowed 
 a sum of money of Mr. L., from whom I had this account ; and, some 
 time after, he paid him half, and said, 'I return you all I spent upon 
 myself, the rest you will be paid in another place ! ' He composes 
 prayers for poor and sick people ; he wears a very shabby coat, that he 
 may spend no more upon himself than is absolutely necessary ; and, in 
 his benevolence and singularity, there is an undoubted mixture of 
 insanity. Mrs. L., when she talked of him to me, said, 'the resem- 
 blance to the character of Albany was so very strong, that she thought 
 it must certainly be meant for him/ and desired me to ask Miss
 
 CECILIA. 201 
 
 which she had been thrown sufficiently for speech : in 
 following her extraordinary director, her imagination had 
 painted to her a scene such as she had so lately quitted, 
 and prepared her to behold some family in distress, some 
 helpless creature in sickness, or some children in want ; 
 but of these to see none, to meet but one person, and that 
 one fair, young, and delicate, an introduction so singular 
 to an object so unthought of, deprived her of all power 
 but that of showing her amazement. 
 
 Meanwhile the young woman looked scarcely less sur- 
 prised, and infinitely more embarrassed. She surveyed 
 her apartment with vexation, and her guest with confusion ; 
 she had listened to the exhortation of the old man with 
 visible uneasiness, and now he was gone, seemed over- 
 whelmed with shame and chagrin. 
 
 Cecilia, who in observing these emotions felt both her 
 curiosity and her compassion encrease, pressed her hand 
 as she parted with it, and, when a little recovered, said, 
 " You must think this a strange intrusion ; but the gentle- 
 man who brought me hither is perhaps so well known to 
 you, as to make his singularities plead with you. their 
 own apology." 
 
 " No, indeed, madam," she answered bashfully, "he is 
 very little known to me ; but he is very good, and very 
 desirous to do me service: not but what I believe he 
 thinks me much worse off than I really am, for, I assure 
 you, madam, whatever he has said, I am not ill off at all - 
 hardly." 
 
 The various doubts to her disadvantage which had at 
 first, from her uncommon situation, arisen in the mind of 
 Cecilia, this anxiety to disguise, not display her distress, 
 considerably removed, since it cleared her of all suspicion of 
 seeking by artifice and imposition to play upon her feelings. 
 
 "With a gentleness, therefore, the most soothing, she 
 replied, " I should by no means have broken in upon you 
 thus unexpectedly, if I had not concluded my conductor 
 had some right to bring me. However, since we are 
 
 Barney if she did not know him. I ventured, however, to immediately 
 answer, I was sure she did not, merely from that circumstance, as I 
 was certain she would not have put him in her book if she had known 
 him.'" Diary of Mme. D'Arbla;/, p. 261, vol. ii.
 
 202 CECILIA. 
 
 actually met, let ns remember his injunctions, and endea- 
 vour not to part, till, by a mutual exchange of good-will, 
 each has added a friend to the other." 
 
 " You are condescending indeed, madam," answered the 
 young woman, with an air the most humble, "looking as 
 you look, to talk of a friend when you. come to such a 
 place as this ! up two pair of stairs ! no furniture ! no 
 servant ! every thing in such disorder ! indeed I wonder 
 
 at Mr. Albany ! he should not but he thinks every 
 
 body's affairs may be made public, and does not care what 
 he tells, nor who hears him ; he knows not the pain he 
 gjves, nor the mischief he may do." 
 
 "I am very much concerned," cried Cecilia, more and 
 more surprised at all she heard, " to find I have been thus 
 instrumental to distressing you. I was ignorant whither 
 I was coming, and followed him, believe me, neither from 
 curiosity nor inclination, but simply because I knew not 
 how to refuse him. He is gone, however, and I will there- 
 fore relieve you by going too : but permit me to leave 
 behind me a small testimony that the intention of my 
 coming was not mere impertinence." 
 
 She then took out her purse ; but the young woman, 
 starting back with a look of resentful mortification, ex- 
 claimed, " No, madam ! you are quite mistaken ; pray put up 
 your purse ; I am no beggar ! Mr. Albany has misrepre- 
 sented me, if he has told you I am." 
 
 Cecilia, mortified in her turn at this unexpected rejection 
 of an offer she had thought herself invited to make, stood 
 some moments silent ; and then said, " I am far from 
 meaning to offend you, and I sincerely beg your pardon 
 if I have misunderstood the charge just now given tome." 
 
 " I have nothing to pardon, madam," said she, more 
 calmly, " except, indeed, to Mr. Albany ; and to him, 'tis 
 of no use to be angry, for he minds not what I say ; he is 
 very good, but he is very strange, for he thinks the whole 
 world made to live in common, and that every one who is 
 poor should ask, and every one who is rich should give : he 
 does not know that there are many who would rather starve." 
 
 "And are you," said Cecilia, half-smiling, "of that 
 number ? " 
 
 " No, indeed, madam ! I have not so much greatness of
 
 CECILIA. 203 
 
 mind. But those to whom I belong have more fortitude 
 and higher spirit. I wish I could imitate them ! " 
 
 Struck with the candour and simplicity of this speech, 
 Cecilia now felt a warm desire to serve her, and taking 
 her hand, said, " Forgive me ; hut though I see you wish 
 me gone, I know not how to leave you : recollect, there- 
 fore, the charge that has been given to us both, and if you 
 refuse my assistance one way, point out to me in what 
 other I may offer it." 
 
 " You are very kind, madam," she answered, "and I dare 
 say you are very good ; I am sure you look so at least. But 
 I want nothing ; I do very well, and I have hopes of doing 
 better. Mr. Albany is too impatient. He knows, indeed, 
 that I am not extremely rich, but he is much to blame if 
 he supposes me therefore an object of charity, and thinks 
 me so mean as to receive money from a stranger." 
 
 " I am truly sorry," cried Cecilia, " for the error I have 
 committed, but you must suffer me to make my peace with 
 you before we part ; yet, till I am better known to you, I 
 am fearful of proposing terms. Perhaps you will permit 
 me to leave you my direction, and do me the favour to call 
 upon me yourself ? " 
 
 " no, madam ! I have a sick relation whom I cannot 
 leave : and indeed, if he were well, he would not like to> 
 have me make an acquaintance while I am in this place." 
 
 " I hope you are not his only nurse ? I am sure you do 
 not look able to bear such fatigue. Has he a physician ? 
 Is he properly attended ? " 
 
 " No, madam ; he has no physician, and no attendance 
 at all." 
 
 " And is it possible that in such a situation you can 
 refuse to be assisted ? Surely you should accept some help 
 for him, if not for yourself." 
 
 " But what will that signify, when, if I do, he will not 
 make use of it ? and when he had a thousand and a thou- 
 sand times rather die, than let any one know he is in want ? " 
 
 " Take it, then, unknown to him ; serve him without 
 acquainting him you serve him. Surely you would not 
 suffer him to perish without aid ? " 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! But what can I do ? I am under his 
 command, madam, not he under mine ! "
 
 204- CECILIA. 
 
 "Is lie your father ? Pardon my question, but your 
 
 youth seems much to want such a protector." 
 
 " No, madam, I have no father ! I was happier when I 
 had ! He is my brother." 
 
 " And what is his illness ? " 
 
 "A fever." 
 
 " A fever, and without a physician ! Are you sure, too, 
 it is not infectious ? " 
 
 " yes, too sure ! " 
 
 " Too sure ? how so ? " 
 
 " Because I know too well the occasion of it !" 
 
 " And what is the occasion ? " cried Cecilia, again taking 
 her hand, " pray trust me ; indeed you shall not repent 
 your confidence. Your reserve hitherto has only raised 
 you in my esteem, but do not carry it so far as to mortify 
 me by a total rejection of my good offices." 
 
 " Ah, madam ! " said the young woman, sighing, " you 
 ought to be good, I am sure, for you will draw all out of 
 me by such kindness as this ! the occasion was a neglected 
 wound, never properly healed." 
 
 " A wound ? is he in the army ? " 
 
 " No, he was shot through the side in a duel." 
 
 " In a duel ? " exclaimed Cecilia, " pray what is his 
 name ? " 
 
 " O, that I must not tell you ! his name is a great secret 
 now, while he is in this poor place, for I know he had 
 almost rather never see the light again than have it 
 known." 
 
 " Surely, surely," cried Cecilia, with much emotion, "he 
 cannot I hope he cannot be Mr. Belfield ? " 
 
 " Ah, heaven ! " cried the young woman, screaming, 
 " do you know him ? " 
 
 Here, in mutual astonishment, they looked at each other. 
 
 " You are, then," said Cecilia, " the sister of Mr. Belfield ? 
 and Mr. Belfield is thus sick, his wound is not yet healed, 
 and he is without any help ! " 
 
 " And who, madam, are you ? " cried she, " and how is 
 it you know him ? " 
 
 " My name is Beverley." 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed she again, " I fear I have done nothing 
 but mischief ! I know very well who you are now, madam,
 
 CECILIA. 205 
 
 but if my brother discovers that I have betrayed him, he 
 will take it very unkind, and perhaps never forgive me." 
 
 " Be not alarmed," cried Cecilia ; "rest assured he shall 
 never know it. Is he not now in the country ? " 
 
 " No, madam, he is now in the very next room." 
 
 " But what is become of the surgeon who used to attend 
 him, and why does he not still visit him ? " 
 
 " It is in vain, now, to hide any thing from you ; my 
 brother deceived him, and said he was going out of town 
 merely to get rid of him." 
 
 " And what could induce him to act so strangely ? " 
 
 " A reason which you, madam, I hope, will never know r 
 Poverty ! he would not run up a bill he could not pay." 
 
 " Good Heaven ! but what can be done for him ? he 
 must not be suffered to linger thus ; we must contrive 
 some method of relieving and assisting him, whether he 
 will consent or not." 
 
 " I fear that will not be possible. One of his friends- 
 has already found him out, and has written him the kindest 
 letter ! but he would not answer it, and would not see 
 him, and was only fretted and angry." 
 
 " Well," said Cecilia, " I will not keep you longer, lest 
 he should be alarmed by your absence. To-morrow morn- 
 ing, with your leave, I will call upon you again, and then I 
 hope you will permit me to make some effort to assist you." 
 
 " If it only depended upon me, madam," she answered, 
 " now I have the honour to know who you are, I believe I 
 should not make much scruple ; for I was not brought up 
 to notions so high as my brother. Ah ! happy had it been 
 for him, for me, for all his family, if he had not had them, 
 neither ! " 
 
 Cecilia then repeated her expressions of comfort and 
 kindness, and took her leave. 
 
 This little adventure gave her infinite concern ; all the 
 horror which the duel had originally occasioned her, again- 
 returned ; she accused herself with much bitterness for 
 having brought it on ; and finding that Mr. Belfield was so 
 cruelly a sufferer, both in his health and his affairs, she 
 thought it incumbent upon her to relieve him to the utmost 
 of her ability. 
 
 Hie sister, too, had extremely interested her ; her youth,.
 
 206 CECILIA. 
 
 and the uncommon artlessness of her conversation, added 
 to her melancholy situation, and the loveliness of her 
 person, excited in her a desire to serve, and an inclination 
 to love her ; and she determined, if she found her as de- 
 serving as she seemed engaging, not only to assist her at 
 present, but, if her distresses continued, to receive her into 
 her own house in future. 
 
 Again she regretted the undue detention of her 200. 
 What she now had to spare was extremely inadequate to 
 what she now wished to bestow, and she looked forward to 
 the conclusion of her minority with encreasing eagerness. 
 The generous and elegant plan of life she then intended to 
 pursue, daily gained ground in her imagination, and credit 
 in her opinion. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A MAN OF GEX1US. 
 
 THE next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, 
 Cecilia went in a chair to Swallow-street ; she en- 
 quired for Miss Belfield, and was told to go up stairs : but 
 what was her amazement to meet, just coming out of the 
 room into which she was entering, young Delvile ! 
 
 They both started, and Cecilia, from the seeming strange- 
 ness of her situation, felt a confusion with which she had 
 hitherto been unacquainted. But Delvile, presently reco- 
 vering from his surprise, said to her, with an expressive 
 smile, " How good is Miss Beverley thus to visit the sick ! 
 
 1 For once, Miss Burney may be found drawing from life. " It has 
 'been said that from the animated, ingenious, and eccentric Percival 
 Stockdale, she drew the Belfield of her admirable Cecilia." These words 
 are from the pen of Jane Porter, who with her sister, had been kindly 
 encouraged by Stockdale, when the two girls took to writing novels. 
 Stockdale, who had been praised by Gibbon, and Burke, and called 
 " Stcckey," in kindness, by Dr. Johnson, met Miss Burney about 1778. 
 In his own opinion, and it seems in that of Miss Burney, he was a 
 " Man of Genius." Grateful Miss Porter also speaks of him as " a man 
 of genius." Against these words of hers, Macaulay scribbled on the 
 margin of his copy of Nichols' " Literary Anecdotes " of the 18th 
 -century " Genius ! \Vhat had Percival Stockdale to do with genius ! '
 
 CECILIA. 207 
 
 and how much better might I have had the pleasure of 
 seeing Mr. Belfield, had I but, by prescience, known her 
 design, and deferred my own enquiries till he had been 
 revived by hers ! " 
 
 And then, bowing and wishing her good morning, he 
 glided past her. 
 
 Cecilia, notwithstanding the openness and purity of her 
 intentions, was so much disconcerted by this unexpected 
 meeting, and pointed speech, that she had not the presence 
 of mind to call him back and clear herself ; and the various 
 interrogatories and railleries which had already passed 
 between them upon the subject of Mr. Belfield, made her 
 suppose that what he had formerly suspected he would 
 now think confirmed, and conclude that all her assertions 
 of indifference, proceeded merely from that readiness at 
 hypocrisy upon particular subjects, of which he had openly 
 accused her whole sex. 
 
 This circumstance and this apprehension took from her 
 for a while all interest in the errand upon which she came ; 
 but the benevolence of her heart soon brought it back, 
 when, upon going into the room, she saw her new favourite 
 in tears. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " cried she, tenderly ; " no new 
 affliction I hope has happened ? Your brother is not 
 worse ? " 
 
 " No, madam, he is much the same ; I was not then 
 crying for him." 
 
 " For what then ? tell me, acquaint me with your 
 sorrows, and assure yourself you tell them to a friend." 
 
 " I was crying, madam, to find so much goodness in the 
 world, when I thought there was so little ! to find I have 
 some chance of being again happy, when I .thought I was 
 miserable for ever ! Two whole years have I spent in 
 nothing but unhappiness, and I thought there was nothing 
 else to be had ; but yesterday, madam, brought me you, 
 with every promise of nobleness and protection ; and to- 
 day, a friend of my brother's has behaved so generously, 
 that even my brother has listened to him, and almost con- 
 sented to be obliged to him ! " 
 
 "And have you already known so much sorrow," s^id 
 Cecilia, " that this little dawn of prosperity should wholly
 
 208 CECILIA. 
 
 overpower your spirits ? Gentle, amiable girl ! may the 
 future recompense yon for the past, and may Mr. Albany's 
 kind wishes be fulfilled in the reciprocation of our comfort 
 and affection !" 
 
 They then entered into a conversation which the sweet- 
 ness of Cecilia, and the gratitude of Miss Belfield soon 
 rendered interesting, friendly and unreserved : and in a 
 very short time, whatever was essential in the story or 
 situation of the latter was fully communicated. She gave, 
 however, a charge the most earnest, that her brother should 
 never be acquainted with the confidence she had made. 
 
 Her father, who had been dead only two years, was a 
 linen-draper in the city ; he had six daughters, of whom 
 herself was the youngest, and only one son. This son, 
 Mr. Belfield, was alike the darling of his father, mother, 
 and sisters : he was brought np at Eton, no expense was 
 spared in his education, nothing was denied that could 
 make him happy. With an excellent understanding he 
 had uncommon quickness of parts, and his progress in his 
 studies was rapid and honourable : his father, though he 
 always meant him for his successor in his business, heard 
 of his improvement with rapture, often saying, " My boy 
 will be the ornament of the city, he will be the best scholar 
 in any shop in London." 
 
 He was soon, however, taught another lesson ; when, at 
 the age of sixteen, he returned home, and was placed in the 
 shop, instead of applying his talents, as his father had 
 expected, to trade, he both despised and abhorred the name 
 of it ; when serious, treating it with contempt, when gay, 
 with derision. 
 
 He was seized, also, with a most ardent desire to finish 
 his education, like those of his school-fellows who left Eton 
 at the same time, at one of the Universities ; and, after 
 many difficulties, this petition, at the intercession of his 
 mother, was granted, old Mr. Belfield telling him he hoped 
 a little more learning would give him a little more sense, 
 and that when he became a finished student, he would not 
 only know the true value of business, but understand how 
 to get money, and make a bargain, better than any man 
 Avhatsoever within Temple-Bar. 
 
 These expectations, equally short-sighted, were also
 
 CECILIA. 209 
 
 equally fallacious with the former : the son again returned, 
 and returned, as his father had hoped, a finished student; 
 but, far from being more tractable, or better disposed for 
 application to trade, his aversion to it now was more stub- 
 born, and his opposition more hardy than ever. The 
 young men of fashion with whom he had formed friend- 
 ships at school, or at the university, and with whom, from 
 the indulgence of his father, he was always able to vie in 
 expense, and from the indulgence of Nature to excel in 
 capacity, earnestly sought the continuance of his acquain- 
 tance, and courted and coveted the pleasure of his conver- 
 sation : but though he was now totally disqualified for any 
 other society, he lost all delight in their favour from the 
 fear they should discover his abode, and sedulously endea- 
 voured to avoid even occasionally meeting them, lest any 
 of his family should at the same time approach him : for 
 of his family, though wealthy, worthy and independent, he 
 was now so utterly ashamed, that the mortification the 
 most cruel he could receive, was to be asked his address, or 
 told he should be visited. 
 
 Tired, at length, of evading the enquiries made by some, 
 and forcing faint laughs at the detection made by others, 
 he privately took a lodging at the west end of the town, to 
 which he thenceforward directed all his friends, and 
 where, under various pretences, he contrived to spend the 
 greatest part of his time. 
 
 In all his expensive deceits and frolics, his mother was 
 his never-failing confident and assistant ; for when she 
 heard that the companions of her son were men of fashion, 
 some born to titles, others destined to high stations, she 
 concluded he was in the certain road to honour and profit, 
 and frequently distressed herself, without ever repining, in 
 order to enable him to preserve upon equal terms, con- 
 nections which she believed so conducive to his future 
 grandeur. 
 
 In this wild and unsettled manner he passed some time, 
 struggling incessantly against the authority of his father, 
 privately abetted by his mother, and constantly aided and 
 admired by his sisters : till, sick of so desultory a way of 
 life, he entered himself a volunteer in the army. 
 
 How soon he grew tired of this change has already been 
 
 P
 
 210 CECILIA. 
 
 related, 1 as well as his reconciliation with his father, and 
 his becoming a student at the Temple ; for the father now 
 grew as weary of opposing, as the young man of being 
 opposed. 
 
 Here, for two or three years, he lived in happiness un- 
 interrupted : he extended his acquaintance among the 
 great, by whom he was no sooner known than caressed and 
 admired, and he frequently visited his family, which, 
 though he blushed to own in public, he affectionately loved 
 in private. His profession, indeed, was but little in his 
 thoughts, successive engagements occupying almost all his 
 hours. Delighted with the favour of the world, and 
 charmed to find his presence seemed the signal for enter- 
 tainment, he soon forgot the uncertainty of his fortune, 
 and the inferiority of his rank: the law grew more and 
 more fatiguing, pleasure became more and more alluring, 
 and, by degrees, he had not a day unappropriated to some 
 party or amusement ; voluntarily consigning the few leisure 
 moments his gay circle afforded him, to the indulgence of 
 his fancy in some hasty compositions in verse, which were 
 handed about in manuscript, and which contributed to keep 
 him in fashion. 
 
 Such was his situation at the death of his father ; a new 
 scene was then opened to him, and for some time he hesi- 
 tated what course to pursue. 
 
 Old Mr. Belfield, though he lived in great affluence, left 
 not behind him any considerable fortune, after the portions 
 of his daughters, to each of whom he bequeathed 2000, 
 had been deducted from it. But his stock in trade was 
 great, and his business was prosperous and lucrative. 
 
 His son, however, did not merely want application and 
 fortitude to become his successor, but skill and knowledge ; 
 his deliberation, therefore, was hasty, and his resolution 
 improvident. He determined to continue at the Temple 
 himself, while the shop, which he could by no means afford 
 to relinquish, should be kept up by another name, and the 
 business of it be transacted by an agent ; hoping thus to 
 secure and en joy its emoluments, without either the trouble 
 or the humiliation of attendance. 
 
 1 See pp. 7, 8.
 
 CECILIA. 211 
 
 But this scheme, like most others that have their basis 
 in vanity, ended in nothing bat mortification and disap- 
 pointment. The shop which under old Mr. Belfield had 
 been flourishing and successful, and enriched himself and 
 all his family, could now scarce support the expenses of an 
 individual. Without a master, without that diligent atten- 
 tion to its prosperity which the interest of possession alone 
 can give, and the authority of a principal alone can 
 enforce, it quickly lost its fame for the excellence of its 
 goods, and, soon after, its customers, from the report of its 
 declension. The produce, therefore, diminished every 
 month ; he was surprised, he was provoked ; he was con- 
 vinced he was cheated, and that his affairs were neglected ; 
 but though he threatened from time to time to enquire 
 into the real state of the business, and investigate the cause 
 of its decay, he felt himself inadequate to the task ; and 
 now first lamented that early contempt of trade, which, by 
 preventing him acquiring some knowledge of it while 
 he had youth and opportunity, made him now ignorant 
 what redress to seek ; though certain of imposition and 
 injury. 
 
 But yet, however disturbed by alarming suggestions in 
 his hours of retirement, no alteration was made in the 
 general course of his life ; he was still the darling of his 
 friends, and the leader in all parties, and still, though his 
 income was lessened, his expenses encreased. 
 
 Such were his circumstances at the time Cecilia first saw 
 him at the house of Mr. Monckton : from which, two days 
 after her arrival in town, he was himself summoned, by an 
 information that his agent had suddenly left the kingdom. 
 
 The fatal consequence of this fraudulent elopement was 
 immediate bankruptcy. 
 
 His spirits, however, did not yet fail him ; as he had 
 never been the nominal master of the shop, he escaped all- 
 dishonour from its ruin, and was satisfied to consign what 
 remained to the mercy of the creditors, so that his own 
 name should not appear in the Gazette. 
 
 Three of his sisters were already extremely well married 
 to reputable tradesmen ; the two elder of those who were 
 yet single were settled with two of those who were married, 
 and Henrietta, the youngest, resided with her mother, who
 
 212 CECILIA. 
 
 had a comfortable annuity, and a small house at Padding- 
 ton. 1 
 
 Bereft thus through vanity and imprudence of all the 
 long labours of his father, he was now compelled to think 
 seriously of some actual method of maintenance ; since his 
 mother, though willing to sacrifice to him even the nourish- 
 ment which sustained her, could do for him but little, and 
 that little he had too much justice to accept. The law, even 
 to the most diligent and successful, is extremely slow of 
 profit, and whatever, from his connections and abilities, 
 might be hoped hereafter, at present required an expense 
 which he was no longer able to support. 
 
 It remained then to try his influence with his friends 
 among the great and the powerful. 
 
 His canvass proved extremely honourable ; every one 
 promised something, and all seemed delighted to have an 
 opportunity of serving him. 
 
 Pleased with finding the world so much better than 
 report had made it, he now saw the conclusion of his diffi- 
 culties in the prospect of a place at court. 
 
 Belfield, with half the penetration with which he was 
 gifted, would'have seen in any other man the delusive idle- 
 ness of expectations no better founded ; but though discern- 
 ment teaches us the folly of others, experience singly can 
 teach us our own ! He flattered himself that his friends had 
 been more wisely selected than the friends of those who, in 
 similar circumstances, had been beguiled ; and he suspected 
 not the fraud of his vanity, till he found his invitations 
 daily slacken, and that his time was at his own command. 
 
 All his hopes now rested upon one friend and patron, Mr. 
 Floyer, and uncle of Sir Robert Floyer, a man of power in 
 the royal household, with whom he had lived in great inti- 
 macy, and who at this period had the disposal of a place 
 which he solicited. The only obstacle that seemed in his 
 way was from Sir Robert himself, who warmly exerted his 
 interest in favour of a friend of his own. Mr. Floyer, 
 
 1 Paddington, " a village at the west end of London, containing, in 
 1795, about 340 houses." 
 
 " Pitt is to Addington 
 
 As London is to Paddington." 
 
 CANNING. 
 From CUNNINGHAM'S Handbook for London.
 
 CECILIA. 213 
 
 however, assured Belfield of the preference, and only 
 begged his patience till he could find some opportunity of 
 appeasing his nephew. 
 
 And this was the state of his affairs at the time of his 
 quarrel at the Opera-house. Already declared opponents 
 of each other, Sir Robert felt double wrath that for Mm 
 Cecilia should reject his civilities ; while Belfield, suspect- 
 ing he presumed upon his known dependence on his uncle 
 to affront him, felt also double indignation at the haughti- 
 ness of his behaviour. And thus, slight as seemed to the 
 world the cause of their contest, each had private motives 
 of animosity that served to stimulate revenge. 
 
 The very day after this duel, Mr. Floyer wrote him word 
 that he was now obliged in common decency to take the 
 part of his nephew, and therefore had already given the 
 place to the friend he had recommended. 
 
 This was the termination of his hopes, and the signal of 
 his ruin ! To the pain of his wound he became insensible, 
 from the superior pain of this unexpected miscarriage ; yet 
 his pride still enabled him to disguise his distress, and to 
 see all the friends whom this accident induced to seek him, 
 while from the sprightliness he forced in order to conceal 
 his anguish, he appeared to them more lively and more en- 
 tertaining than ever. 
 
 But these efforts, when left to himself and to nature, only 
 sunk him the deeper in sadness ; he found an immediate 
 change in his way of life was necessary, yet could not brook 
 to make it in sight of those with whom he had so long 
 lived in all the brilliancy of equality. A high principle of 
 honour which still, in the midst of his gay career, had re- 
 mained uncorrupted, had scrupulously guarded him from 
 running in debt, and therefore, though of little possessed, 
 that little was strictly his own. He now published that 
 he was going out of town for the benefit of purer air, 
 discharged his surgeon, took a gay leave of his friends, 
 and trusting no one with his secret but his servant, was 
 privately conveyed to mean and cheap lodgings in Swallow- 
 street. 
 
 Here, shut up from every human being he had formerly 
 known, he purposed to remain till he grew better, and then 
 again to seek his fortune in the army.
 
 CECILIA. 
 
 His present situation, however, was little calculated to 
 contribute to his recovery ; the dismission of the surgeon, 
 the precipitation of his removal, the inconveniences of his 
 lodgings, and the unseasonable deprivation of long cus- 
 tomary indulgences, were unavoidable delays of his amend- 
 ment ; while the mortification of his present disgrace, and 
 the bitterness of his late disappointment, preyed incessantly 
 upon his mind, robbed him of rest, heightened his fever, and 
 reduced him by degrees to a state so low and dangerous, 
 that his servant, alarmed for his life, secretly acquainted his 
 mother with his illness and retreat. 
 
 The mother, almost distracted by this intelligence, in- 
 stantly, with her daughter, flew to his lodgings. She wished 
 to have taken him immediately to her house at Paddington ; 
 but he had suffered so much from his first removal, that he 
 would not consent to another. She would then have called 
 in a physician, but he refused even to see one ; and she had 
 too long given way to all his desires and opinions, to have 
 now the force of mind for exerting the requisite authority 
 of issuing her orders without consulting him. 
 
 She begged, she pleaded, indeed, and Henrietta joined in 
 her entreaties ; but sickness and vexation had not rendered 
 him tame, though they had made him sullen : he resisted 
 their prayers, and commonly silenced them by assurances 
 that their opposition to the plan he had determined to 
 pursue, only inflamed his fever, and retarded his recovery. 
 
 The motive of an obduracy so cruel to his friends was 
 the fear of a detection which he thought not merely preju- 
 dicial to his affairs, but dishonourable to his character : for, 
 without betraying any symptom of his distress, he had 
 taken a general leave of his acquaintance, upon pretence of 
 going out of town, and he could ill endure to make a dis- 
 covery which would at once proclaim his degradation and 
 liis deceit. 
 
 !Mr. Albany had accidentally broken in upon him, by 
 mistaking his room for that of another sick person in the 
 same house, to whom his visit had been intended ; but as he 
 knew and reverenced that old gentleman, he did not much 
 repine at his intrusion. He was not so easy when the same 
 discovery was made by young Delvile, who chancing to 
 meet his servant in the street, enquired concerning his
 
 CECILIA. 215 
 
 master's health, and surprising from him its real state, fol- 
 lowed him home ; where, soon certain of the change in his 
 affairs by the change of his habitaiion, he wrote him a 
 letter, in which, after apologizing for his freedom, he 
 warmly 'declared that nothing could make him so happy as 
 being favoured with his commands, if, either through him- 
 self or his friends, he could be so fortunate as to do him 
 any service. 
 
 Belfield, deeply mortified at this detection of his situation, 
 returned only a verbal answer of cold thanks, and desired 
 he would not speak of his being in town, as he was not well 
 enough to be seen. 
 
 This reply gave almost equal mortification to young 
 Delvile, who continued, however, to call at the door with 
 enquiries how he went on, though he made no further 
 attempt to see him. 
 
 Belfield, softened at length by the kindness of this con- 
 duct, determined to admit him ; and he was just come from 
 paying his first visit, when he was met by Cecilia upon the 
 stairs. 
 
 His stay with him had been short, and he had taken no 
 notice either of his change of abode, or his pretence of going 
 into the country ; he had talked to him only in general 
 terms, and upon general subjects, till he arose to depart, 
 and then he re-urged his offers of service with so much 
 openness and warmth, that Belfield, affected by his earnest- 
 ness, promised he would soon see him again, and intimated 
 to his delighted mother and sister, that he would frankly 
 consult with him upon his affairs. 
 
 Such was the tale which, with various minuter circum- 
 stances, Miss Belfield communicated to Cecilia. " My 
 mother," she added, " who never quits him, knows that you 
 are here, madam, for she heard me talking with somebody 
 yesterday, and she made me tell her all that had passed, and 
 that you said you would come again this morning." 
 
 Cecilia returned many acknowledgments for this artless 
 and unreserved communication, but could not, when it was 
 over, forbear enquiring by what early misery she had already, 
 though so very young, spent two years in nothing but unhap- 
 piness ? 
 
 " Because," she answered, " when my poor father died all
 
 216 CECILIA. 
 
 our family separated, and I left everybody to go and live 
 with my mother at Paddington ; and I was never a favourite 
 with my mother, no more, indeed, was anybody but my 
 brother, for she thinks all the rest of the world only made 
 for his sake. So she used to deny both herself and me 
 almost common necessaries, in order to save up money to 
 make him presents : though, if he had known how it was 
 done, he would only have been angry instead of taking 
 them. However, I should have regarded nothing that had 
 but been for his benefit, for I loved him a great deal more 
 than my own convenience ; but sums that would distress us 
 for months to save up, would by him be spent in a day, and 
 
 then thought of no more ! Nor was that all no ! I 
 
 had much greater uneasiness to suffer ; for I was informed 
 by one of my brothers-in-law how ill everything went, 
 and that certain ruin would come to my poor brother from 
 the treachery of his agent ; and the thought of this was 
 always preying upon my mind, for I did not dare tell it my 
 mother, for fear it should put her out of humour, for, some- 
 times, she is not very patient ; and it mattered little what 
 any of us said to my brother, for he was too gay and too 
 confident to believe his danger." 
 
 " Well, but," said Cecilia, " I hope, now, all will go better ; 
 if your brother will consent to see a physician " 
 
 " Ah, madam ! that is the thing I fear he never will do, 
 because of being seen in these bad lodgings. I would kneel 
 whole days to prevail with him, but he is unused to control, 
 and knows not how to submit to it ; and he has lived so long 
 among the great, that he forgets he was not born as high as 
 themselves. Oh, that he had never quitted his own family ! 
 If he had not been spoilt by ambition, he had the best heart 
 and sweetest disposition in the world. But living always 
 with his superiors, taught him to disdain his own relations 
 and be ashamed of us all ; and yet now, in the hour of his 
 distress who else comes to help him ? " 
 
 Cecilia then enquired if she wanted not assistance for her- 
 self and her mother, observing that they did not seem to 
 have all the conveniences to which they were entitled. 
 
 " Why, indeed, madam," she replied, with an ingenuous 
 smile, " when you first came here I was a little like my 
 brother, for I was sadly ashamed to let you see how ill we
 
 CECILIA. 217 
 
 lived ; but now you know the worst, so I shall fret about it 
 no more." 
 
 " But this cannot be your usual way of life ; I fear the 
 misfortunes of Mr. Belfield have spread a ruin wider than 
 his own." 
 
 " No, indeed ; he took care from the first not to involve 
 us in his hazards, for he is very generous, madam, and very 
 noble in all his notions, and could behave to us all no better 
 about money matters than he has ever done. But, from the 
 moment we came to this dismal place, and saw his distress, 
 and that Tie was sunk so low who used always to be higher 
 than any of us, we had a sad scene indeed ! My poor 
 mother, whose whole delight was to think that he lived like 
 a nobleman, and who always nattered herself that he would 
 rise to be as great as the company he kept, was so distracted 
 with her disappointment, that she would not listen to reason, 
 but immediately discharged both our servants, said she and 
 I should do all the work ourselves, hired this poor room for 
 us to live in, and sent to order a bill to be put upon her 
 house at Paddington, for she said she would never return 
 to it any more." 
 
 " But are you, then," cried Cecilia," without any servant ? " 
 
 " We have my brother's man, madam, and so he lights 
 our fires, and takes away some of our litters ; and there is 
 not much else to be done, except sweeping the rooms, for we 
 eat nothing but cold meat from the cook-shops." 
 
 " And how long is this to last ? " 
 
 " Indeed I cannot tell ; for the real truth is, my poor 
 mother has almost lost her senses ; and ever since our 
 coming here, she has been so miserable and so complaining, 
 that, indeed, between her and my brother, I have almost 
 lost mine too ! For when she found all her hopes at an 
 end, and that her darling son, instead of being rich and 
 powerful, and surrounded by friends and admirers, all 
 trying who should do the most for him, was shut up by 
 himself in this poor little lodging, and instead of gaining 
 more, had spent all he was worth at first, with not a crea- 
 ture to come near him, though ill, though confined, though 
 keeping his bed! Oh, madam, had you seen my poor 
 mother when she first cast her eyes upon him in that con- 
 dition ! indeed you could never have forgotten it ! "
 
 218 CECILIA. 
 
 " I wonder not at her disappointment," cried Cecilia ; 
 "with, expectations so sanguine, and a son of so much 
 merit, it might well indeed be bitter." 
 
 " Yes, and besides the disappointment, she is now con- 
 tinually reproaching herself for always complying with his 
 humours, and assisting him to appear better than the rest 
 of his family, though my father never approved her doing 
 so. But she thought herself so sure of his rising, that she 
 believed we should all thank her for it in the end. And 
 she always used to say that he was born to be a gentleman, 
 and what a grievous thing it would be to have him made 
 a tradesman." 
 
 " I hope, at least, she has not the additional misery of 
 seeing him ungrateful for her fondness, however injudicious 
 it may have been ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! he does nothing but comfort and cheer her ! 
 and indeed it is very good of him, for he has owned to me in 
 private, that but for her encouragement, he could not have 
 run the course he has run, for he should have been obliged 
 to enter into business, whether he had liked it or not. But my 
 poor mother knows this, though he will not tell it her, and 
 therefore she says that unless he gets well, she will punish 
 herself all the rest of her life, and never go back to her 
 house, and never hire another servant, and never eat any 
 thing but bread, nor drink any thing but water ! " 
 
 " Poor unhappy woman ! " cried Cecilia, " how dearly 
 does she pay for her imprudent and short-sighted indul- 
 gence ! but surely you are not also to suffer in the same 
 manner ? " 
 
 " No, madam, not by her fault, for she wants me to go 
 and live with one of my sisters : but I would not quit 
 her for the world ; I should think myself wicked indeed 
 to leave her now. Besides, I don't at all repine at the 
 little hardships I go through at present, because my poor 
 brother is in so much distress, that all we save may be 
 really turned to account ; but when we lived so hardly 
 only to procure him luxuries he had no right to, I must 
 own I used often to think it unfair, and if I had not loved 
 him dearly, I should not have borne it so well, perhaps, as 
 I ought " 
 
 Cecilia now began to think it high time to release her
 
 CECILIA. Ziy 
 
 new acquaintance by quitting her, though she felt herself 
 so much interested in her affairs, that every word she spoke 
 gave her a desire to lengthen the conversation. She ardently 
 wished to make her some present, but was restrained by 
 the fear of offending, or of being again refused ; she had, 
 however, devised a private scheme for serving her more 
 effectually than by the donation of a few guineas, and 
 therefore, after earnestly begging to hear from her if she 
 could possibly be of any use, she told her that she should 
 not find her confidence misplaced, and promising again to 
 see her soon reluctantly departed. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN EXPEDIENT. 
 
 HPHE scheme now projected by Cecilia, was to acquaint 
 -* the surgeon who had already attended Mr. Belfield 
 with his present situation and address, and to desire him 
 to continue his visits, for the payment of which she would 
 herself be accountable. 
 
 The raillery of young Delvile, however, had taught her 
 to fear the constructions of the world, and she therefore 
 purposed to keep both the surgeon and Mr. Belfield igno- 
 rant to whom they were indebted. She was aware, indeed, 
 that whatever might be her management, that high-spirited 
 and unfortunate young man would be extremely hurt to 
 find himself thus detected and pursued ; but she thought 
 his life too well worth preserving to let it be sacrificed to 
 his pride, and her internal conviction of being herself the 
 immediate cause of its present danger, gave to her an 
 anxious and restless desire to be herself the means of extri- 
 cating him from it. 
 
 Rupil, the name of the surgeon, she had already heard 
 mentioned by Mr. Arnott, and in getting into her chair, 
 she ordered Ralph, her man, to enquire where he lived. 
 
 " I know already where he lives, madam," answered 
 Ralph, " for I saw his name over a door in Cavendish- 
 street, Oxford-road ; I took particular notice of it, because
 
 220 CECILIA. 
 
 it was at the house where you stood up that day on account 
 of the mob that was waiting to see the malefactors go to 
 Tyburn." 
 
 This answer unravelled to Cecilia a mystery which had 
 long perplext her ; for the speeches of young Delvile when 
 he had surprised her in that situation were now fully ex- 
 plained. In seeing her come out of the surgeon's house, he 
 had naturally concluded she had only entered it to ask news 
 of his patient, Mr. Belfield; her protestations of merely 
 standing up to avoid the crowd, he had only laughed at ; 
 and his hints at her reserve and dissimulation, were meant 
 but to reproach her for refusing his offer of procuring her 
 intelligence, at the very time when, to all appearance, she 
 anxiously, though clandestinely, sought it for herself. 
 
 This discovery, notwithstanding it relieved her from all 
 suspense of his meaning, gave her much vexation : to be 
 supposed to take an interest so ardent, yet so private, in the 
 affairs of Mr. Belfield, might well authorize all suspicions 
 of her partiality for him : and even if any doubt had yet 
 remained, the unlucky meeting upon the stairs at his 
 lodgings, would not fail to dispel it, and confirm the notion 
 of her secret regard. She hoped, however, to have soon 
 some opportunity of clearing up the mistake, and resolved 
 in the meantime to be studiously cautious in avoiding all 
 appearances that might strengthen it. 
 
 No caution, however, and no apprehension, could intimi- 
 date her active humanity from putting into immediate 
 execution a plan in which she feared any delay might be 
 fatal ; and therefore the moment she got home, she wrote 
 the following note to the surgeon. 
 
 To RUPIL, ESQ. 
 
 " March 27, 1779. 
 
 "A FEIEND of Mr. Belfield begs Mr. Rupil will immediately 
 call upon that gentleman, who is in lodgings about the 
 middle of Swallow-street, and insist upon visiting him till 
 he is perfectly recovered. Mr. Rupil is entreated not to 
 make known this request, nor to receive from Mr. Belfield 
 any return for his attendance ; but to attribute the dis- 
 covery of his residence to accident, and to rest assured he 
 shall be amply recompensed for his time and trouble by
 
 CECILIA. 221 
 
 the friend who makes this application, and who is willing 
 to give any security that Mr. Rupil shall think proper to 
 mention, for the performance of this engagement." 
 
 Her next difficulty was in what manner to have this note 
 conveyed ; to send her own servant was evidently betraying 
 herself, to employ any other was risking a confidence that 
 might be still more dangerous, and she could not trust to 
 the penny-post, as her proposal required an answer. After 
 much deliberation, she at length determined to have recourse 
 to Mrs. Hill, to whose services she was entitled, and upon 
 whose fidelity she could 'rely. 
 
 The morning was already far advanced, but the Harrels 
 dined late, and she would not lose a day where even an 
 hour might be of importance. She went therefore im- 
 mediately to Mrs. Hill, whom she found already removed 
 into her new habitation in Fetter-lane, and equally busy 
 and happy in the change of scene and of employment. She 
 gave to her a note, which she desired her to carry to Caven- 
 dish-street directly, and either to deliver it into Mr. Rupil's 
 own hands, or to bring it back if he was out ; but upon no 
 consideration to make known whence or from whom it came. 
 
 She then went into the back part of the shop, which by 
 Mrs. Roberts was called the parlour, and amused herself 
 during the absence of her messenger, by playing with the 
 children. 
 
 Mrs. Hill at her return said she had found Mr. Rupil at 
 home, and as she refused to give the letter to the servant, 
 she had been taken into a room where he was talking with a 
 gentleman, to whom, as soon as he had read it, he said, with 
 a laugh, " Why here's another person with the same proposal 
 as yours ! however, I shall treat you both alike." And 
 then he wrote an answer, which he sealed up, and bid her 
 take care of. This answer was as follows : 
 
 " MR. RUPIL will certainly attend Mr. Belfield, whose 
 friends may be satisfied he will do all in his power to recover 
 him, without receiving any recompense but the pleasure of 
 serving a gentleman who is so much beloved." 
 
 Cecilia, charmed at this unhoped for success, was making 
 further enquiries into what had passed, when Mrs. Hill, in 
 a low voice, said, " There's the gentleman, madam, who was
 
 222 CECILIA. 
 
 with Mr. Rupil when I gave him the letter. I had a notion 
 he was dodging me all the way I came, for I saw him just 
 behind me, turn which way I would." 
 
 Cecilia then looked and perceived young Delvile ! who, 
 after stopping a moment at the door, came into the shop, 
 and desired to be shown some gloves, which, among other 
 things, were laid in the window. 
 
 Extremely disconcerted at the sight of him, she began 
 now almost to fancy there was some fatality attending her 
 acquaintance with him, since she was always sure of meet- 
 ing, when she had any reason to wish avoiding him. 
 
 As soon as he saw he was observed by her, he bowed with 
 the utmost respect : she coloured in returning the saluta- 
 tion, and prepared, with no little vexation, for another 
 attack, and further raillery, similar to what she had already 
 received from him : but, as soon as he had made his pur- 
 chase, he bowed to her again, and, without speaking, left 
 the shop. 
 
 A silence so unexpected at once astonished and disturbed 
 her ; she again desired to hear all that had passed at Mr. 
 Rupil's, and from the relation gathered that Delville had 
 himself undertaken to be responsible for his attendance 
 upon Mr. Belfield. 
 
 A liberality so like her own failed not to impress her 
 with the most lively esteem : but this served rather to 
 augment than lessen the pain with which she considered 
 the clandestine appearance she thus repeatedly made to 
 him. She had no doubt he had immediately concluded she 
 was author of the application to the surgeon, and that he 
 followed her messenger merely to ascertain the fact ; while 
 his silence when he had made the discovery, she could only 
 Attribute to his now believing that her regard for Mr. 
 Belfield was too serious for raillery. 
 
 Doubly, however, she rejoiced at the generosity of Mr. 
 Rupil, as it rendered wholly unnecessary her further inter- 
 ference : for she now saw, with some alarm, the danger to 
 which benevolence itself, directed towards a youthful object, 
 might expose her.
 
 CECILIA. 223 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A REMONSTRANCE. 
 
 f~~* EC ILIA returned home so late, that she was sum- 
 ^' moned to the dining parlour the moment she entered 
 the house. Her morning dress, and her long absence, 
 excited much curiosity in Mrs. Harrel, which a quick suc- 
 cession of questions evasively answered soon made general ; 
 and Sir Robert Floyer, turning to her with a look of sur- 
 prise, said, " If you have such freaks as these, Miss 
 Beverley, I must begin to enquire a little more into your 
 proceedings." 
 
 " That, sir," said Cecilia, very coldly, " would ill repay 
 your trouble." 
 
 " When we get her to Violet Bank," cried Mr. Harrel, 
 " we shall be able to keep a better watch over her." 
 
 " I hope so," answered Sir Robert; "though, faith, she 
 has been so demure, that I never supposed she did any thing 
 but read sermons. However, I find there's no going upon 
 trust with women, any more than with money." 
 
 " Ay, Sir Robert," cried Mrs. Harrel, "you know I always 
 advised you not to be quite so easy, and I am sure I really 
 think you deserve a little severity, for not being more 
 afraid." 
 
 " Afraid of what, madam ? " cried the baronet ; " of a 
 young lady's walking out without me ? Do you think I 
 wish to be any restraint upon Miss Beverley's time in a 
 morning, while I have the happiness of waiting upon her 
 every afternoon ? " 
 
 Cecilia was thunderstruck by this speech, which not only 
 expressed an open avowal of his pretensions, but a confident 
 security of his success. She was shocked that a man of 
 such principles should even for a moment presume upon her 
 favour, and irritated at the stubbornness of Mr. Harrel in 
 not acquainting him with her refusal. 
 
 His intimation of coming to the house for the happiness 
 of waiting upon her, made her determine, without losing a
 
 224 CECILIA. 
 
 moment, to seek herself an explanation with him : while the 
 discovery that he was included in the Easter party, which 
 various other concomitant causes had already rendered dis- 
 agreeable to her, made her look forward to that purposed 
 expedition with nothing but unwillingness and distaste. 
 
 But though her earnestness to conclude this affair made 
 her now put herself voluntarily in the way of the baronet, 
 she found her plan always counteracted by Mr. Harrel, who, 
 with an officiousness too obvious to pass for chance, con- 
 stantly stopt the progress of any discourse in which he did 
 not himself bear a part. A more passionate admirer might 
 not have been so easily defeated ; but Sir Robert, too proud 
 for solicitation, and too indolent for assiduity, was very 
 soon checked, because very soon wearied. 
 
 The whole evening, therefore, to her infinite mortifica- 
 tion, passed away without affording her any opportunity of 
 making known to him his mistake. 
 
 Her next effort was to remonstrate with Mr. Harrel him- 
 self ; but this scheme was not more easy of execution than 
 the other, since Mr. Harrel, suspecting she meant again to 
 dun him for her money, avoided all separate conversation 
 with her so skilfully, that she could not find a moment 
 to make him hear her. 
 
 She then resolved to apply to his lady ; but here her 
 success was not better. Mrs. Harrel, dreading another lec- 
 ture upon economy, peevishly answered to her request of a 
 conference, that she was not very well, and could not talk 
 gravely. 
 
 Cecilia, justly offended with them all, had now no re- 
 source but in Mr. Monckton, whose counsel for effectually 
 dismissing the baronet, she determined to solicit by the 
 first opportunity. 
 
 The moment, therefore, that she next saw him, she ac- 
 quainted him with the speeches of Sir Robert, and the 
 behaviour of Mr. Harrel. 
 
 There needed no rhetoric to point out to Mr. Monckton 
 the danger of suffering such expectations, or the impropriety 
 of her present situation : he was struck with both in a 
 manner the most forcible, and spared not for warmth of 
 expression to alarm her delicacy, or add to her displeasure. 
 But chiefly he was exasperated against Mr. Harrel, assuring
 
 CECILIA. 225 
 
 her there could be no doubt but that he had some particular 
 interest in so strenuously and artfully supporting the pre- 
 tensions of Sir Robert. Cecilia endeavoured to refute this 
 opinion, which she regarded as proceeding rather from 
 prejudice than justice ; but when she mentioned that the 
 baronet was invited to spend the Easter holidays at Violet 
 Bank, he represented with such energy the consequent con- 
 structions of the world, as well as the unavoidable encou- 
 ragement such intimacy would imply, that he terrified her 
 into an earnest entreaty to suggest to her some way of de- 
 liverance. 
 
 " There is only one ; " answered he, " you must peremp- 
 torily refuse to go to Violet Bank yourself. If, after what 
 has passed, you are included in the same party with Sir 
 Robert, you give a sanction yourself to the reports already cir- 
 culated of your engagements with him : and the effect of such 
 a sanction will be more serious than you can easily imagine, 
 since the knowledge that a connection is believed in the world, 
 frequently, if not generally, leads by imperceptible degrees 
 to its real ratification." 
 
 Cecilia, with the utmost alacrity, promised implicitly to 
 follow his advice, whatever might be the opposition of Mr. 
 Harrel. He quitted her, therefore, with unusual satisfac- 
 tion, happy in his power over her mind, and anticipating 
 with secret rapture the felicity he had in reserve from visit- 
 ing her during the absence of the family. 
 
 As no private interview was necessary for making known 
 her intention of giving up the Easter party, which was to 
 take place in two days time, she mentioned the next morn- 
 ing her design of spending the holidays in town, when Mr. 
 Harrel sauntered into the breakfast room to give some com- 
 mission to his lady. 
 
 At first he only laughed at her plan, gaily rallying her 
 upon her love of solitude ; but when he found it was 
 serious, he very warmly opposed it, and called upon Mrs. 
 Harrel to join in his expostulations. That lady complied, 
 but in so faint a manner, that Cecilia soon saw she did not 
 wish to prevail ; and, with a concern that cost her infinite 
 pain, now finally perceived that not only all her former 
 affection was subsided into indifference, but that, since she 
 had endeavoured to abridge her amusements, she regarded 
 
 Q
 
 226 CECILIA. 
 
 her as a spy, and dreaded her as the censor of her 
 conduct. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Arnott, who was present, though he in- 
 terfered not in the debate, waited the event with anxiety ; 
 naturally hoping her objections arose from her dislike of 
 Sir Robert, and secretly resolving to be guided himself by 
 her motions. 
 
 Cecilia, at length, tired of the importunities of Mr. Harrel, 
 gravely said, that if he desired to hear the reasons which 
 obliged her to refuse his request, she was ready to commu- 
 nicate them. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, after a little hesitation, accompanied her into 
 another room. 
 
 She then declared her resolution not to live under the 
 same roof with Sir Robert, and very openly expressed her 
 vexation and displeasure that he so evidently persisted in 
 giving that gentleman encouragement. 
 
 " My dear Miss Beveiiey," answered he, carelessly, "when 
 young ladies will not know their own minds, it is necessary 
 some friend should tell it them : you were certainly very 
 favourable to Sir Robert but a short time ago, and so, I dare 
 say, you will be again, when you have seen more of him." 
 
 " You amaze me, sir ! " cried Cecilia : " when was I fa- 
 vourable to him ? Has he not always and regularly been 
 my aversion ? " 
 
 " I fancy," answered Mr. Harrel, laughing, " you will 
 not easily persuade him to think so ; your behaviour at the 
 Opera-house was ill calculated to give him that notion." 
 
 " My behaviour at the Opera-house, sir, I have already 
 explained to you ; and if Sir Robert himself has any 
 doubts, either from that circumstance or from any other, 
 pardon me if I say they can only be attributed to your un- 
 willingness to remove them. I entreat you, therefore, to 
 trifle with him no longer, nor to subject me again to the 
 freedom of implications extremely disagreeable to me." 
 
 " O fie, fie, Miss Beverley ! after all that has passed, after 
 his long expectations, and his constant attendance, you 
 cannot for a moment think seriously of discarding him r" 
 
 Cecilia, equally surprised and provoked by this speech, 
 could not for a moment tell how to answer it ; and Mr. 
 Harrel, wilfully misinterpreting her silence, took her hand,
 
 CECILIA. 227 
 
 and said, " Come, I am sure you have too mucli honour to 
 make a fool of such a man as Sir Robert Floyer. There is 
 not a woman in town who will not envy your choice, and I 
 assure you there is not a man in England I would so soon 
 recommend to you." 
 
 He would then have hurried her back to the next room ; 
 but, drawing away her hand with undisguised resentment, 
 "No, sir," she cried, "this must not pass ! My positive re- 
 jection of Sir E/obert the instant you communicated to me 
 his proposals, you can neither have forgotten nor mistaken ; 
 and you must not wonder if I acknowledge myself extremely 
 disobliged by your unaccountable perseverance in refusing 
 to receive my answer." 
 
 "Young ladies who have been brought up in the country," 
 returned Mr. Harrel, with his usual negligence, " are always 
 so high flown in their notions, it is difficult to deal with 
 them ; but as I am much better acquainted with the world 
 than you can be, you must give me leave to tell you, that 
 if, after all, you refuse Sir Robert, it will be using him 
 veiy ill." 
 
 "Why will you say so, sir," cried Cecilia, "when it is 
 utterly impossible you can have formed so preposterous an 
 opinion ? Pray hear me, however, finally, and pray tell Sir 
 Robert " 
 
 " No, no," interrupted he, with affected gaiety, "you shall 
 manage it all your own way ; I will have nothing to do with 
 the quarrels of lovers." 
 
 And then, with a pretended laugh, he hastily left her. 
 
 Cecilia was so much incensed by this impracticable be- 
 haviour, that instead of returning to the family, she went 
 directly to her own room. It was easy for her to see that 
 Mr. Harrel was bent upon using every method he could 
 devise, to entangle her into some engagement with Sir 
 Robert, and though she could not imagine the meaning of 
 such a scheme, the littleness of his behaviour excited her 
 contempt, and the long-continued error of the baronet gave 
 her the utmost uneasiness. She again determined to seek 
 an explanation with him herself, and immovably to refuse 
 joining the party at Violet Bank. 
 
 The following day, while the ladies and Mr. Arnott were 
 at breakfast, Mr. Harrel came into the room to enquire if
 
 228 CECILIA. 
 
 they should all be ready to set off for his villa by ten o'clock 
 the next day. Mrs. Harrel and her brother answered in 
 the affirmative ; but Cecilia was silent, and he turned to 
 her and repeated his question. 
 
 " Do you think me so capricious, sir," said she, " that 
 after telling you but yesterday I could not be of your party, 
 I shall tell you to-day that I can ? " 
 
 "Why, you do not really mean to remain in town by your- 
 self ? " replied he, " you cannot suppose that will be an eligible 
 plan for a young lady. On the contrary, it will be so very 
 improper, that I think myself, as your guardian, obliged to 
 oppose it." 
 
 Amazed at this authoritative speech, Cecilia looked at 
 him with a mixture of mortification and anger ; but know- 
 ing it would be vain to resist his power if he was resolute 
 to exert it, she made not any answer. 
 
 " Besides," he continued, " I have a plan for some altera- 
 tions in the house during my absence ; and I think your 
 room, in particular, will be much improved by them : but 
 it will be impossible to employ any workmen, if we do not 
 all quit the premises." 
 
 This determined persecution now seriously alarmed her ; 
 she saw that Mr. Harrel would omit no expedient or strata- 
 gem to encourage the addresses of Sir Robert, and force 
 her into his presence ; and she began next to apprehend 
 that her connivance in his conduct might be presumed upon 
 by that gentleman : she resolved, therefore, as the last and 
 only effort in her power for avoiding him, to endeavour to 
 find an accommodation at the house of Mrs. Delvile, during 
 the excursion to Violet Bank : and if, when she returned 
 to Portman-square, the baronet still persevered in his at- 
 tendance, to intreat her friend Mr. Monckton would take 
 upon himself the charge of undeceiving him.
 
 CECILIA. 229 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A VICTORY. 
 
 A S not a moment was now to be lost, Cecilia had no 
 ** sooner suggested this scheme, than she hastened to St. 
 James's-square, to try its practicability. 
 
 She found Mrs. Delvile alone, and still at breakfast. 
 
 After the first compliments were over, while she was 
 considering in what manner to introduce her proposal, Mrs. 
 Delvile herself led to the subject, by saying, " I am very 
 sorry to hear we are so soon to lose you ; but I hope Mr. 
 Harrel does not intend to make any long stay at his villa ; 
 for if he does, I shall be half tempted to come and run 
 away with you from him." 
 
 " And that," said Cecilia, delighted with this opening, 
 " would be an honour I am more than half tempted to 
 desire." 
 
 " Why, indeed, your leaving London at this time," con- 
 tinued Mrs. Delville, " is, for me, particularly unfortunate, 
 as, if I could now be favoured with your visits, I should 
 doubly value them ; for Mr. Delvile is gone to spend the 
 holidays at the Duke of Derwent's, whither I was not well 
 enough to accompany him ; my son has his own engage- 
 ments, and there are so few people I can bear to see, that I 
 shall live almost entirely alone." 
 
 " If I," cried Cecilia, " in such a situation might nope 
 to be admitted, how gladly for that happiness would I ex- 
 change my expedition to Violet Bank ! " 
 
 "You are very good, and very amiable," said Mrs. Del- 
 vile, " and your society would, indeed, give me infinite 
 satisfaction. Yet I am no enemy to solitude ; on the con- 
 trary, company is commonly burthensome to me ; I find 
 few who have any power to give me entertainment, and 
 even of those few, the chief part have in their manners, 
 situation, or characters, an unfortunate something, that 
 generally renders a near connection with them inconve- 
 nient or disagreeable. There are, indeed, so many draw- 
 backs to regard and intimacy, from pride, from propriety,
 
 230 CECILIA. 
 
 and various other collateral causes, that rarely as we meet 
 with people of brilliant parts, there is almost ever some 
 objection to our desire of meeting them again. Yet to live 
 wholly alone is cheerless and depressing ; and with you, at 
 least," taking Cecilia's hand, " I find not one single obstacle 
 to oppose to a thousand inducements, which invite me to 
 form a friendship that I can only hope may be as lasting, 
 as I am sure it will be pleasant." 
 
 Cecilia expressed her sense of this partiality in the 
 warmest terms ; and Mrs. Delvile, soon discovering by her 
 manner that she took not any delight in her intended visit 
 to Violet Bank, began next to question her whether it 
 would be possible for her to give it up. 
 
 She instantly answered in the affirmative. 
 
 "And would you really be so obliging," cried Mrs. Del- 
 vile, with some surprise, " as to bestow upon me the time 
 you had destined for this gay excursion ? " 
 
 " Most willingly," answered Cecilia, " if you are so good 
 as to wish it." 
 
 " But can you also for you must by no means remain 
 
 nlone in Portman-square, manage to live entirely in my 
 
 house till Mr. Barrel's return ? " 
 
 To this proposal, which was what she most desired, 
 Cecilia gave a glad assent ; and Mrs. Delvile, extremely 
 pleased with her compliance, promised to have an apart- 
 ment prepared for her immediately. 
 
 She then hastened home, to announce her new plan. 
 
 This she took occasion to do when the family was as- 
 sembled at dinner. The surprize with which she was 
 heard was very general : Sir Robert seemed at a loss what 
 conclusion to draw from her information ; Mr. Arnott was 
 half elated with pleasure, and half depressed with appre- 
 hension ; Mrs. Harrel wondered, without any other sensa- 
 tion ; and Mr. Harrel himself was evidently the most 
 concerned of the party. 
 
 Every effort of persuasion and importunity he now 
 essayed to prevail upon her to give up this scheme, and 
 still accompany them to the villa ; but she coolly answered 
 that her engagement with Mrs. Delvile was decided, and 
 she had appointed to wait upon her the next morning. 
 
 When her resolution was found so steady, a general ill-
 
 CECILIA. 231 
 
 humour took place of surprise : Sir Robert now had the 
 air of a man who thought himself affronted ; Mr. Arnott 
 was wretched from a thousand uncertainties ; Mrs. Harrel, 
 indeed, was still the most indifferent; but Mr. Harrel 
 could hardly repress his disappointment and anger. 
 
 Cecilia, however, was all gaiety and pleasure : in remov- 
 ing only from the house of one guardian to another, she 
 knew she could not be opposed ; and the flattering readi- 
 ness with which Mrs. Delvile had anticipated her request, 
 without enquiring into her motives, had relieved her from 
 a situation which now grew extremely distressing, without 
 giving to her the pain of making complaints of Mr. 
 Harrel. The absence of Mr. Delvile contributed to her 
 happiness, and she much rejoiced in having now the pros- 
 pect of a speedy opportunity to explain to his son whatever 
 had appeared mysterious in her conduct respecting Mr. 
 Belfield. If she had anything to regret, it was merely 
 the impossibility, at this time, of waiting for the counsel 
 of Mr. Monckton. 
 
 The next morning, while the family was in the midst of 
 prepai'ation for departure, she took leave of Mrs. Harrel, 
 who faintly lamented the loss of her company, and then 
 hastily made her compliments to Mr. Harrel and Mr. 
 Arnott, and putting herself into a chair, was conveyed to 
 her new habitation. 
 
 Mrs. Delvile received her with the most distinguished 
 politeness ; she conducted her to the apartment which had 
 been prepared for her, led her to the library, which she 
 desired her to make use of as her own, and gave her the 
 most obliging charges to remember that she was in a 
 house of which she had the command. 
 
 Young Delvile did not make his appearance till dinner 
 time. Cecilia, from recollecting the strange situations in 
 which she had lately been seen by him, blushed extremely 
 when she first met his eyes ; but, finding him gay and easy, 
 general in his conversation, and undesigning in his looks, 
 she soon recovered from her embarrassment, and passed 
 the rest of the day without restraint or uneasiness. 
 
 Every hour she spent with Mrs. Delvile, contributed to 
 raise in her esteem the mind and understanding of that 
 lady. She found, indeed, that it was not for nothing she
 
 232 CECILIA. 
 
 was accused of pride, but she found at the same time so 
 many excellent qualities, so much true dignity of mind, 
 and so noble a spirit of liberality, that however great was 
 the respect she seemed to demand, it was always inferior 
 to what she felt inclined to pay. 
 
 Nor was young Delvile less rapid in the progress he 
 made in her favour ; his character, upon every opportunity 
 of showing it, rose in her opinion, and his disposition and 
 manners had a mingled sweetness and vivacity that ren- 
 dered his society attractive, and his conversation spirited. 
 
 Here, therefore, Cecilia experienced that happiness she 
 so long had coveted in vain : her life was neither public 
 nor private, her amusements were neither dissipated nor 
 retired ; the company she saw were either people of high 
 rank or strong parts, and their visits were neither frequent 
 nor long. The situation she quitted gave a zest to that 
 into which she entered, for she was now no longer shocked 
 by extravagance or levity, no longer tormented with ad- 
 dresses which disgusted her, nor mortified by the ingrati- 
 tude of the friend she had endeavoured to serve. All was 
 smooth and serene, yet lively and interesting. 
 
 Her plan, however, of clearing to young Delvile his 
 mistakes concerning Belfield, she could not put in execu- 
 tion ; for he now never led to the subject, though he was 
 frequently alone with her, nor seemed at all desirous to 
 renew his former raillery, or repeat his enquiries. She 
 wondered at this change in him, but chose rather to wait 
 the revival of his own curiosity, than to distress or perplex 
 herself by contriving methods of explanation. 
 
 Situated thus happily, she had now one only anxiety, 
 which was to know whether, and in what manner, Mr. 
 Belfield had received his surgeon, as well as the actual 
 state of his own and his sister's affairs : but the fear of 
 again encountering young Delvile in suspicious circum- 
 stances, deterred her at present from going to their house. 
 Yet her natural benevolence, which partial convenience 
 never lulled to sleep, impressing her with an apprehension 
 that her services might be wanted, she was induced to 
 write to Miss Belfield, though she forbore to visit her. 
 
 Her letter was short, but kind and to the purpose : she 
 apologized for her officiousness, desired to know if her
 
 CECILIA. 233 
 
 brother was better, and entreated her, in terms the most 
 delicate, to acquaint her if yet she would accept from her 
 any assistance. 
 
 She sent this letter by her servant, who, after waiting a 
 considerable time, brought her the following answer : 
 
 To Miss BEVEKLEY. 
 
 Ah madam ! your goodness quite melts me ! we want 
 nothing, however, yet, though I fear we shall not say so 
 much longer. But though I hope I shall never forget 
 myself so as to be proud and impertinent, I will rather 
 struggle with any hardship than beg, for I will not dis- 
 oblige my poor brother by any fault that I can help, espe- 
 cially now he is fallen so low. But, thank heaven, his 
 wound has at last been dressed, for the surgeon has found 
 him out, and he attends him for nothing ; though my 
 brother is willing to part with every thing he is worth in 
 the world, rather than owe that obligation to him : yet I 
 often wonder why he hates so to be obliged, for when he 
 was rich himself he was always doing something to oblige 
 other people. But I fear the surgeon thinks him very bad ! 
 for he won't speak to us when we follow him down stairs. 
 
 I am sadly ashamed to send this bad writing, but I dare 
 not ask my brother for any help, because he would only be 
 angry that I wrote any thing about him at all ; but indeed 
 I have seen too little good come of pride to think of 
 imitating it ; and as I have not his genius, I am sure there 
 is no need I should have his defects : ill, therefore, as I 
 write, you, madam, who have so much goodness and gen- 
 tleness, would forgive it, I believe, if it was worse, almost. 
 And though we are not in need of your kind offers, it is a 
 great comfort to me to think there is a lady in the world 
 that, if we come to be quite destitute, and if the proud 
 heart of my poor unhappy brother should be quite broke 
 down, will look upon our distress with pity, and generously 
 help us from quite sinking under it. I remain, 
 Madam, 
 
 with the most humble respect, 
 
 your ever most obliged 
 
 humble servant, 
 
 HENRIETTA BELFIELD.
 
 234 CECILIA. 
 
 Cecilia, much moved by the simplicity of this letter, 
 determined that her very first visit from Portman- square 
 should be to its fair and innocent writer. And having now 
 an assurance that she was in no immediate distress, and 
 that her brother was actually under Mr. Rupil's care, she 
 dismissed from her mind the only subject of uneasiness 
 that at present had endeavoured to disturb it, and gave 
 herself wholly up to the delightful serenity of unalloyed 
 happiness. 
 
 Few are the days of felicity unmixed which we acknow- 
 ledge while we experience, though many are those we 
 deplore, when by sorrow taught their value, and by mis- 
 fortune their loss. Time with Cecilia now glided on with 
 such rapidity, that before she thought the morning half 
 over, the evening was closed, and ere she was sensible the 
 first week was past, the second was departed for ever. 
 More and more pleased with the inmates of her new habi- 
 tation, she found in the abilities of Mrs. Delvile sources 
 inexhaustible of entertainment, and in the disposition and 
 sentiments of her son something so concordant to her own, 
 that almost every word he spoke showed the sympathy of 
 their minds, and almost every look which caught her eyes 
 was a reciprocation of intelligence. Her heart, deeply 
 wounded of late by unexpected indifference, and unde- 
 served mortification, was now, perhaps, more than usually 
 susceptible of those penetrating and exquisite pleasures 
 which friendship and kindness possess the highest powers 
 of bestowing. Easy, gay, and airy, she only rose to happi- 
 ness, and only retired to rest ; and not merely heightened 
 was her present enjoyment by her past disappointment, 
 but, carrying her retrospection to her earliest remembrance, 
 she still found her actual situation more peculiarly adapted 
 to her taste and temper, than any she had hitherto at any 
 time experienced. 
 
 The very morning that the destined fortnight was 
 elapsed, she received a note from Mrs. Harrel, with infor- 
 mation of her arrival in town, and an entreaty that she 
 would return to Portman-square. 
 
 Cecilia, who, thus happy, had forgot to mark the pro- 
 gress of time, was now all amazement to find the term of 
 her absence so soon past. She thought of going back with
 
 CECILIA. 235 
 
 the utmost reluctance, and of quitting her new abode with 
 the most lively regret. The representations of Mr. Monck- 
 ton daily lost their force, and, notwithstanding her dislike 
 of Mr. Delvile, she had no wish so earnest as that of being 
 settled in his family for the rest of her minority. 
 
 To effect this was her next thought ; yet she knew not 
 how to make the proposal ; but from the uncommon par- 
 tiality of Mrs. Delvile, she hoped, with a very little encou- 
 ragement, she would lead to it herself. 
 
 Here, however, she was disappointed ; Mrs. Delvile, 
 when she heard of the summons from the Harrels, ex- 
 pressed her sorrow at losing her in terms of the most 
 nattering regret, yet seemed to think the parting indis- 
 pensable, and dropt not the most distant hint of attempting 
 to prevent it. 
 
 Cecilia, vexed and disconcerted, then made arrangements 
 for her departure, which she fixed for the next morning. 
 
 The rest of this day, unlike every other which for the 
 last fortnight had preceded it, was passed with little 
 appearance, and no reality of satisfaction : Mrs. Delvile 
 was evidently concerned, her son openly avowed his 
 chagrin, and Cecilia felt the utmost mortification ; yet, 
 though every one was discontented, no effort was made 
 towards obtaining any delay. 
 
 The next morning during breakfast, Mrs. Delvile very 
 elegantly thanked her for granting to her so much of her 
 time, and earnestly begged to see her in future whenever 
 she could be spared from her other friends ; protesting she 
 was now so accustomed to her society, that she should re- 
 quire both long and frequent visits to soften the separation. 
 This request was very eagerly seconded by young Delvile, 
 who warmly spoke his satisfaction that his mother had 
 found so charming a friend, and unaffectedly joined in her 
 entreaties that the intimacy might be still more closely 
 cemented. 
 
 Cecilia had no great difficulty in according her com- 
 pliance to those demands, of which the kindness and cor- 
 diality somewhat lessened her disturbance at the parting. 
 
 When Mrs. Barrel's carriage arrived, Mrs. Delvile took 
 a most affectionate leave of her, and her son attended her 
 to the coach.
 
 236 CECILIA. 
 
 In her way down stairs, he stopt her for a few moments, 
 and in some confusion said, " I wish much to apologize to 
 Miss Beverley, before her departure, for the very gross 
 mistake of which I have been guilty. I know not if it is 
 possible she can pardon me, and I hardly know myself by 
 what perversity and blindness I persisted so long in my 
 error." 
 
 " 0," cried Cecilia, much rejoiced at this voluntary ex- 
 planation, " if you are but convinced you were really in an 
 error, I have nothing more to wish. Appearances, indeed, 
 were so strangely against me, that I ought not, perhaps, to 
 wonder they deceived you." 
 
 " This is being candid indeed," answered he, again 
 leading her on : " and in truth, though your anxiety was 
 obvious, its cause was obscure, and where anything is left 
 to conjecture, opinion interferes, and the judgment is easily 
 warped. My own partiality, however, for Mr. Belfield, will 
 I hope plead my excuse, as from that, and not from any 
 prejudice against the baronet, my mistake arose : on the 
 contrary, so highly I respect your taste and your discern- 
 ment, that your approbation, when known, can scarcely 
 fail of securing mine." 
 
 Great as was the astonishment of Cecilia at the conclu- 
 sion of this speech ; she was at the coach door before she 
 could make any answer ; but Delvile, perceiving her sur- 
 prise, added, while he handed her in, " Is it possible ? 
 
 but no, it is not possible I should be again mistaken. I 
 forbore to speak at all, till I had information by which I 
 could not be misled." 
 
 " I know not in what unaccountable obscurity," cried 
 Cecilia, " I, or my affairs, may be involved, but I perceive 
 that the cloud which I had hoped was dissipated, is thicker 
 and more impenetrable than ever." 
 
 Delvile then bowed to her with a look that accused her 
 of insincerity, and the carriage drove away. 
 
 Teased by these eternal mistakes, and provoked to find 
 that though the object of her supposed partiality was so 
 frequently changed, the notion of her positive engagement 
 with one of the duellists was invariable, she resolved, with 
 all the speed in her power, to commission Mr. Monckton 
 to wait upon Sir Robert Floyer, and in her own name give
 
 CECILIA. 237 
 
 a formal rejection to his proposals, and desire him thence- 
 forward to make known, by every opportunity, their total 
 independence of each other : for sick of debating with 
 Mr. Harrel, and detesting all intercourse with Sir Robert, 
 she now dropt her design of seeking an explanation herself. 
 
 She was received by Mrs. Harrel with the same coldness 
 with which she had parted from her. That lady appeared 
 now to have some uneasiness upon her mind, and Cecilia 
 endeavoured to draw from her its cause ; but far from 
 seeking any alleviation in friendship, she studiously avoided 
 her, seeming pained by her conversation, and reproached 
 by her sight. Cecilia perceived this encreasing reserve 
 with much concern, but with more indignation, conscious 
 that her good offices had merited a better reception, and 
 angry to find that her advice had not merely failed of 
 success, but even exposed her to aversion. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, on the contrary, behaved to her with unusual 
 civility, seemed eager to oblige her, and desirous to render 
 his house more agreeable to her than ever. But in this he 
 did not prosper ; for Cecilia, immediately upon her return,, 
 looking in her apartment for the projected alterations, and 
 finding none had been made, was so disgusted by such a 
 detection of duplicity, that he sunk yet lower than before 
 in her opinion, and she repined at the necessity she wa& 
 under of any longer continuing his guest. 
 
 The joy of Mr. Arnott at again seeing her, was visible 
 and sincere ; and not a little was it encreased by finding 
 that Cecilia, who sought not more to avoid Mr. Harrel and 
 Sir Robert, than she was herself avoided by Mrs. Harrel^ 
 talked with pleasure to nobody else in the house, and 
 scarcely attempted to conceal that he was the only one of 
 the family who possessed any portion of her esteem. 
 
 Even Sir Robert appeared now to have formed a design 
 of paying her rather more respect than he had hitherto 
 thought necessary ; but the violence he did himself was so 
 evident, and his imperious nature seemed so repugnant to 
 the task, that his insolence, breaking forth by starts, and 
 checked only by compulsion, was but the more conspicuous 
 f rom his inadequate efforts to disguise it.
 
 238 CECILIA. 
 
 CHAPTER Till. 
 
 A COMPLAINT. 
 
 A S Cecilia now found herself cleared, at least, of all 
 ** suspicions of harbouring too tender a regard for 
 Mr. Belfield, her objections to visiting his sister were re- 
 moved, and the morning after her return to Mr. Barrel's, 
 she went in a chair to Swallow-street. 
 
 She sent her servant up stairs to enquire if she might be 
 admitted, and was immediately taken into the room where 
 she had twice before been received. 
 
 In a few minutes Miss Belfield, softly opening and 
 shutting the door of the next apartment, made her appear- 
 ance. She looked thin and pale, but much gratified by the 
 sight of Cecilia. "Ah madam ! " she cried, "you are good 
 indeed not to forget us ! and you can little think how it 
 cheers and consoles me, that such a lady as you can con- 
 descend to be kind to me. It is quite the only pleasure 
 that I have now in the whole world." 
 
 "I grieve that you have no greater;" cried Cecilia, 
 " yon seem much fatigued and harassed. How is your 
 brother ? I fear you neglect your own health, by too 
 much attention to his." 
 
 " No, indeed, madam ; my mother does everything for him 
 herself, and hardly suffers anybody else to go near him." 
 
 " What, then, makes you so melancholy ? " said Cecilia, 
 taking her hand ; " you do not look well ; your anxiety, I 
 am sure, is too much for your strength." 
 
 " How should I look well, madam," answered she, 
 " living as I live ? however, I will not talk of myself, but 
 
 of my brother. 0, he is so ill ! indeed I am sadly, sadly 
 
 afraid he will never be well again ! " 
 
 " What does his surgeon say ? you are too tender, and 
 too much frightened to be any judge." 
 
 " It is not that I think myself he will die of his wound, 
 for Mr. Rupil says the wound is almost nothing ; but he 
 is in a constant fever, and so thin, and so weak, that indeed 
 it is almost impossible he should recover ! "
 
 CECILIA. 239 
 
 "You are too apprehensive," said Cecilia; "you know 
 not what effect the country air may have upon him ; there 
 are many, many expedients that with so young a man may 
 yet be successful." 
 
 " no, the country air can do nothing for him ! for I 
 will not deceive you, madam, for that would be doubly a 
 fault when I am so ready in blaming other people for 
 wearing false appearances : besides you are so good and so 
 gentle, that it quite composes me to talk with you. So I 
 will honestly speak the truth, and the whole truth at once ; 
 my poor brother is lost 0, I fear for ever lost ! all by 
 his own unhappy pride ! he forgets his father was a trades- 
 man, he is ashamed of all his family, and his whole desire 
 is to live among the grandest people, as if he belonged to 
 no other. And now that he can no longer do that, he takes 
 the disappointment so to heart that he cannot get the 
 better of it; and he told me this morning that he wished 
 he was dead, for he did not know why he should live only 
 to see his own ruin ! But when he saw how I cried at his 
 saying so, he was very sorry indeed, for he has always been 
 the kindest brother in the world, when he has been away 
 from the great folks who have spoilt him : ' But why,' said 
 he, ' Henrietta, why would you have me live, when instead 
 of raising you and my poor mother into a higher station, 
 I am sunk so low, that I only help to consume your own 
 poor pittances to support me in my disgrace ? ' ' 
 
 " I am sorry, indeed," said Cecilia, " to find he has so deep 
 a sense of the failure of his expectations : but how happens 
 it that you are so much wiser ? Young and inexperienced 
 as you are, and early as you must have been accustomed, 
 from your mother as well as from Mr. Belfield, to far other 
 doctrine, the clearness of your judgment, and the justness 
 of your remarks, astonish as much as they charm me." 
 
 " Ah, madam ! brought up as I have been brought up, 
 there is little wonder I should see the danger of a high 
 education, let me be ever so ignorant of everything else ; 
 for I, and all my sisters, have been the sufferers the whole 
 time : and while we were kept backward that he might be 
 brought forward, while we were denied comforts, that he 
 might have luxuries, how could we help seeing the evil of 
 so much vanity, and wishing we had all been brought up
 
 240 CECILIA. 
 
 according to our proper station, instead of living in con- 
 tinual inconvenience, and having one part of a family 
 struggling with distress, only to let another part of it appear 
 in a way he had no right to ? " 
 
 " How rationally," said Cecilia, " have you considered 
 this subject ! and how much do I honour you for the affec- 
 tion you retain for your brother, notwithstanding the wrongs 
 you have suffered to promote his elevation ! " 
 
 " Indeed, he deserves it ; take but from him that one 
 fault, pride, and I believe he has not another : and humoured 
 and darling child as from his infancy he has always been, 
 who at that can wonder, or be angry ? " 
 
 "And has he still no plan, no scheme for his future 
 destination ? " 
 
 " No, madam, none at all ; and that it is makes him 
 so miserable, and being so miserable makes him so ill ; for 
 Mr. B-upil says that with such uneasiness upon his mind, he 
 can never, in his present low state, get well. O, it is melan- 
 choly to see how he is altered ! and how he has lost all 
 his fine spirits ! he that used to be the life of us all ! And 
 now he hardly ever speaks a word, or if he does, he says 
 something so sorrowful that it cuts us to the soul ! But, 
 yesterday, when my mother and I thought he was asleep, 
 he lifted up his head, and looked at us both with the tears 
 in his eyes, which almost broke our hearts to see, and then, 
 in a low voice, he said, ' what a lingering illness is this ! 
 Ah, my dear mother, you and poor Henrietta ought to wish 
 it quicker over ! for should I recover, my life, hereafter, 
 will but linger like this illness.' And afterwards he called 
 out, ' What on earth is to become of me ? I shall never have 
 health for the army, nor interest, nor means ; what am I to 
 do ? subsist in the very prime of my life upon the bounty 
 of a widowed mother ? or, with such an education, such 
 connections as mine, enter at last into some mean and sordid 
 business ? ' ' 
 
 "It seems then," said Cecilia, "he now less wants a 
 physician than a friend." 
 
 " He has a friend, madam, a noble friend, would he but 
 accept his services ; but he never sees him without suffer- 
 ing fresh vexation, and his fever encreases after every visit 
 he pays him."
 
 CECILIA. 241 
 
 " Well," cried Cecilia, rising, " I find we shall not have 
 an easy task to manage him ; but keep np your spirits, and 
 assure yourself he shall not be lost, if it be possible to save 
 him." 
 
 She then, though with much fearfulness of offending, 
 once more made an offer of her purse. Miss Belfield no 
 longer started at the proposal ; yet gratefully thanking her, 
 said she was not in any immediate distress, and did not dare 
 risk the displeasure of her brother, unless driven to it by 
 severe necessity. Cecilia, however, drew from her a pro- 
 mise that she would apply to her in any sudden difficulty, 
 and charged her never to think herself without a banker 
 while her direction was known to her. 
 
 She then bid her adieu, and returned home ; meditating 
 the whole way upon some plan of employment and advan- 
 tage for Mr. Belfield, which by clearing his prospects, 
 might revive his spirits, and facilitate his recovery : for 
 since his mind was so evidently the seat of his disease, she 
 saw that unless she could do more for him, she had yet 
 done nothing. 
 
 Her meditation, however, turned to no account ; she 
 could suggest nothing, for she was ignorant what was 
 eligible to suggest. The stations and employments of men 
 she only knew by occasionally hearing that such were their 
 professions, and such their situations in life ; but with the 
 means and gradations by which they arose to them she was 
 wholly unacquainted. 
 
 Mr. Monckton, her constant resource in all cases of 
 difficulty, immediately occurred to her as her most able 
 counsellor, and she determined by the first opportunity to 
 consult with him upon the subject, certain of advice the most 
 judicious from his experience and knowledge of the world. 
 
 But though she rested upon him her serious expectations 
 of assistance, another idea entered her mind not less plea- 
 sant, though less promising of utility : this was to mention 
 her views to young Delvile. He was already, she knew, 
 well informed of the distress of Mr. Belfield, and she hoped, 
 by openly asking his opinion, to confirm to him her free- 
 dom from any engagement with that gentleman, and con- 
 vince him, at the same time, by her application to himself, 
 that she was equally clear of any tie with the baronet.
 
 242 CECILIA. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A SYMPATHY. 
 
 THE next day Cecilia had appointed to spend in St. 
 James's-square ; and she knew by experience, that 
 in its course, she should in all probability find some oppor- 
 tunity of speaking with Delvile alone. 
 
 This accordingly happened; for in the evening Mrs. 
 Delvile quitted the room for a few moments to answer 
 a letter. Cecilia, then, left with her son, said, after a little 
 hesitation, " Will you not think me very strange if I should 
 take the liberty to consult you upon some business ? " 
 
 " I already think you very strange," answered he ; " so 
 strange that I know not any one who at all resembles you. 
 But what is this consultation in which you will permit me 
 to have a voice ? " 
 
 " You are acquainted, I believe, with the distress of Mr. 
 Belfield?" 
 
 " I am ; and I think his situation the most melancholy 
 that can be imagined. I pity him with my whole soul, and 
 nothing would give me greater joy than an opportunity of 
 serving him." 
 
 " He is, indeed, much to be compassionated," returned 
 Cecilia, " and if something is not speedily done for him, I 
 fear he will be utterly lost. The agitation of his mind 
 baffles all the power of medicine, and till that is relieved, 
 his health can never be restored. His spirit, probably 
 always too high for his rank in life, now struggles against 
 every attack of sickness and of poverty, in preference to 
 yielding to his fate, and applying to his friends for their 
 interest and assistance. I mean not to vindicate his ob- 
 duracy, yet I wish it were possible it could be surmounted. 
 Indeed, I dread to think what may become of him ! feeling 
 at present nothing but wretchedness and pain, looking for- 
 ward in future to nothing but ruin and despair ! " 
 
 " There is no man," cried young Delvile, with emotion, 
 " who might not rather envy than pity sufferings which 
 give rise to such compassion ! "
 
 CECILIA. 243 
 
 " Pecuniary assistance he will not accept," she continued, 
 " and, indeed, his mind is superior to receiving consolation 
 from such temporary relief ; I wish him, therefore, to be 
 put into some way of life by which his own talents, which 
 have long enough amused the world, may at length become 
 serviceable to himself. Do you think, sir, this is possible ? " 
 
 " How do I rejoice," cried Delvile, colouring with plea- 
 sure while he spoke, " in this flattering concurrence of our 
 opinions ! See, madam," taking from his pocket a letter, 
 " how I have been this very morning occupied, in endea- 
 vouring to procure for Mr. Belfield some employment by 
 which his education might be rendered useful, and his parts 
 redound to his own credit and advantage." 
 
 He then broke the seal, and put into her hand a letter 
 to a nobleman, whose son was soon going abroad, strongly 
 recommending Belfield to him in capacity of a tutor. 
 
 A sympathy of sentiment so striking, impressed them at 
 the same moment with surprise and esteem ; Delvile ear- 
 nestly regarded her with eyes of speaking admiration, 
 while the occasion of his notice rendered it too pleasant to 
 distress her, and filled her with an inward satisfaction 
 which brightened her whole countenance. 
 
 She had only time, in a manner that strongly marked 
 her approbation, to return the letter, before Mrs. Delvile 
 again made her appearance. 
 
 During the rest of the evening but little was said ; Cecilia 
 was not talkative, and young Delvile was so absent, that 
 three times his mother reminded him of an engagement to 
 meet his father, who that night was expected at the Duke 
 of Derwent's house in town, before he heard that she spoke 
 to him, and three times more before, when he had heard, he 
 obeyed. 
 
 Cecilia, when she came back to Mr. Harrel's, found the 
 house full of company. She went into the drawing-room, but 
 did not remain there long ; she was grave and thoughtful, 
 she wished to be alone, and by the earliest opportunity, 
 stole away to her own apartment. 
 
 Her mind was now occupied by new ideas, and her fancy 
 was busied in the delineation of new prospects. She had 
 been struck from her first meeting young Delvile with an 
 involuntary admiration of his manners and conversation ;
 
 244 CKCILIA. 
 
 she had found upon every succeeding interview something 
 further to approve, and felt for him a rising partiality 
 which made her always see him with pleasure, and never 
 part from him without a wish to see him again. Yet, as 
 she was not of that inflammable nature which is always 
 ready to take fire, as her passions were under the control 
 of her reason, and she suffered not her affections to triumph 
 over her principles, she started at her danger the moment 
 she perceived it, and instantly determined to give no weak 
 encouragement to a prepossession which neither time nor 
 intimacy had justified. She denied herself the deluding 
 satisfaction of dwelling upon the supposition of his worth, 
 was unusually assiduous to occupy all her time, that her 
 heart might have less leisure for imagination ; and had she 
 found that his character degenerated from the promise of 
 his appearance, the well regulated purity of her mind would 
 soon have enabled her to have driven him wholly from her 
 thoughts. 
 
 Such was her situation when the circumstances of her 
 affairs occasioned her becoming an inmate of his house ; 
 and here she grew less guarded, because less clear-sighted 
 to the danger of negligence, for the frequency of their con- 
 versations allowed her little time to consider their effects. 
 If at first she had been pleased with his deportment and 
 elegance, upon intimacy she was charmed with his disposi- 
 tion and his behaviour; she found him manly, generous, 
 open-hearted and amiable, fond of literature, delighting in 
 knowledge, kind in his temper, and spirited in his actions. 
 
 Qualities such as these, when recommended by high 
 birth, a striking figure, and polished manners, formed but 
 a dangerous companion for a young woman, who without 
 the guard of any former prepossession, was so fervent an 
 admirer of excellence as Cecilia. Her heart made no 
 resistance, for the attack was too gentle and too gradual 
 to alarm her vigilance, and therefore, though always sensible 
 of the pleasure she received from his society, it was not till 
 she returned to Portman-square, after having lived under the 
 same roof with him for a fortnight, that she was conscious 
 her happiness was no longer in her own power. 
 
 Mr. Barrel's house, which had never pleased her, now 
 became utterly disgustful ; she was wearied and uncom-
 
 CECILIA. 245 
 
 fortable; yet, willing to attribute her uneasiness to any 
 other than the true cause, she fancied the house itself was 
 changed, and that all its inhabitants and visitors were 
 more than usually disagreeable : but this idle error was of 
 short duration, the moment of self -conviction was at hand, 
 and when Delvile presented her the letter he had written 
 for Mr. Belfield, it flashed in her eyes ! 
 
 This detection of the altered state of her mind, opened 
 to her views and her hopes a scene entirely new, for 
 neither the exertion of the most active benevolence, nor the 
 steady course of the most virtuous conduct, sufficed any 
 longer to wholly engage her thoughts, or constitute her 
 felicity ; she had purposes that came nearer home, and 
 cares that threatened to absorb in themselves that heart 
 and those faculties which hitherto had only seemed ani- 
 mated for the service of others. 
 
 Yet this loss of mental freedom gave her not much un- 
 easiness, since the choice of her heart, though involuntary, 
 was approved by her principles, and confirmed by her 
 judgment. Young Delvile's situation in life was just what 
 she wished, more elevated than her own, yet not so exalted 
 as to humble her with a sense of inferiority ; his connec- 
 tions were honourable, his mother appeared to her the first 
 of women, his character and disposition seemed formed to 
 make her happy, and her own fortune was so large, that to 
 the state of his she was indifferent. 
 
 Delighted with so flattering a union of inclination with 
 propriety, she now began to cherish the partiality she at 
 first had repressed, and thinking the future destination of 
 her life already settled, looked forward with grateful joy 
 to the prospect of ending her days with the man she 
 thought most worthy to be entrusted with the disposal of 
 her fortune. 
 
 She had not, indeed, any certainty that the regard of 
 young Delvile was reciprocal, but she had every reason to 
 believe he greatly admired her, and to suspect that his 
 mistaken notion of her prior engagement, first with Mr. 
 Belfield, and afterwards with Sir Robert Floyer, made him 
 at present check those sentiments in her favour which, 
 when that error was removed, she hoped to see en- 
 couraged.
 
 246 CECILIA. 
 
 Her purpose, therefore, was quietly to wait an explana- 
 tion, which she rather wished retarded than forwarded, 
 that her leisure and opportunity might be more for in- 
 vestigating his character, and saving herself from re- 
 pentance. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A CONFLICT. 
 
 THE day following this happy intellectual arrangement, 
 Cecilia was visited by Mr. Monckton. That gentle- 
 man, who had enquired for her immediately after the 
 Harrels went to their villa, and who had flattered himself 
 with reaping much advantage from their absence, by fre- 
 quent meetings and confidential discourses, suffered the 
 severest mortification when he found that her stay in town 
 rendered her not the less inaccessible to him, since he had 
 no personal acquaintance with the Delviles, and could not 
 venture to present himself at their house. 
 
 He was now received by her with more than usual 
 pleasure ; the time had seemed long to her since she had 
 conversed with him, and she was eager to ask his counsel 
 and assistance in her affairs. She related to him the 
 motives which had induced her to go to St. James's- 
 square, and the incorrigible obstinacy with which Mr. 
 Harrel still continued to encourage the addresses of Sir 
 Robert Moyer ; she earnestly entreated him to become her 
 agent in a business to which she was unequal, by expostu- 
 lating in her cause with Mr. Harrel, and by calling upon 
 Sir Robert himself to insist upon his foregoing his un- 
 authorized pretensions. 
 
 Mr. Monckton listened eagerly to her account and re- 
 quest, and when she had finished, assured her he would 
 deliberate upon each circumstance of the affair, and then 
 maturely weigh every method he could devise, to extricate 
 her from an embarrassment which now grew far too 
 serious to be safely neglected. 
 
 " I will not, however," continued he, " either act or give
 
 CECILIA. 247 
 
 my opinion without further enquiry, as I am confident 
 there is a mystery in this business which lies deeper than 
 we can at present fathom. Mr. Harrel has doubtless pur- 
 poses of his own to answer by this pretended zeal for Sir 
 Robert ; nor is it difficult to conjecture what they may be. 
 Friendship, in a man of his light cast, is a mere cover, a 
 mere name, to conceal a connection which has its basis 
 solely in the licentious convenience of borrowing money, 
 going to the same gaming house, and mutually communi- 
 cating and boasting their mutual vices and intrigues, 
 while, all the time, their regard for each other is equally 
 hollow with their regard for truth and integrity." 
 
 He then cautioned her to be extremely careful with 
 respect to any money transactions with Mr. Harrel, whose 
 splendid extravagance he assured her was universally 
 known to exceed his fortune. 
 
 The countenance of Cecilia, during this exhortation, was 
 testimony sufficient to the penetrating eyes of Mr. Monck- 
 ton that his advice came not too soon : a suspicion of the 
 real state of the case speedily occurred to him, and he 
 questioned her minutely upon the subject. She endea- 
 voured to avoid making him any answer, but his discern- 
 ment was too keen for her artificial evasion, and he very 
 soon gathered all the particulars of her transactions with 
 Mr. Harrel. 
 
 He was less alarmed at the sum she had lent him, which 
 was rather within his expectations, than at the method she 
 had been induced to take to procure it. He represented to 
 her in the strongest manner the danger of imposition, nay 
 of ruin, from the extortions and the craft of money- 
 lenders ; and he chai'ged her upon no consideration to be 
 tempted or persuaded again to have recourse to such pe- 
 rilous expedients. 
 
 She promised the most attentive observance of his 
 advice ; and then told him the acquaintance she had made 
 with Miss Belfield, and her sorrow for the situation of her 
 brother; though, satisfied for the present with the plan of 
 young Delvile, she now gave up her design of soliciting 
 his counsel. 
 
 In the midst of this conversation, a note was delivered 
 to her from Mr. Delvile senior, acquainting her with his
 
 248 CECILIA. 
 
 return to town, and begging tlie favour of her to call in 
 St. James's -square the next morning, as he wished to 
 speak to her upon some business of importance. 
 
 The eager manner in which Cecilia accepted this invita- 
 tion, and her repeated and earnest exclamation of wonder 
 at what Mr. Delvile could have to say, past not unnoticed 
 by Mr. Monckton ; he instantly turned the discourse from 
 the Belfields, the Barrels, and the baronet, to enquire how 
 she had spent her time during her visit in St. James's- 
 square, and what was her opinion of the family after her 
 late opportunities of intimacy ? 
 
 Cecilia answered that she had yet seen nothing more of 
 Mr. Delvile, who had been absent the whole time, but with 
 equal readiness and pleasure she replied to all his questions 
 concerning his lady, expatiating with warmth and fervour 
 upon her many rare and estimable qualities. 
 
 But when the same interrogatories were transferred to 
 the son, she spoke no longer with the same ease, nor with 
 her usual promptitude of sincerity ; she was embarrassed, 
 her answers were short, and she endeavoured to hasten 
 from the subject. 
 
 Mr. Monckton remarked this change with the most 
 apprehensive quickness ; but forcing a smile, " Have you 
 yet," he said, " observed the family compact in which those 
 people are bound to besiege you, and draw you into their 
 snares ? " 
 
 " No, indeed," cried Cecilia, much hurt by the question, 
 " I am sure no such compact has been formed ; and I am 
 sure, too, that if you knew them better, you would yourself 
 be the first to admire and do them justice." 
 
 " My dear Miss Beverley," cried he, " I know them al- 
 ready ; I do not, indeed, visit them, but I am perfectly 
 acquainted with their characters, which have been drawn 
 to me by those who are most closely connected with them, 
 and who have had opportunities of inspection which I hope 
 will never fall to your share, since I am satisfied the trial 
 would pain, though the proof would convince you." 
 
 " What then have you heard of them ? " cried Cecilia, 
 with much earnestness : "it is, at least, not possible any ill 
 can be said of Mrs Delvile." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," returned he, " Mrs. Delvile is not
 
 CECILIA. 249 
 
 nearer perfection than the rest of her family, she has only 
 more art in disguising her foibles ; because, though she is 
 the daughter of pride, she is the slave of interest." 
 
 " J see you have been greatly misinformed," said Cecilia, 
 warmly ; " Mrs. Del vile is the noblest of women ! she may, 
 indeed, from her very exaltation, have enemies, but they 
 are the enemies of envy, not of resentment, enemies raised 
 by superior merit, not excited by injury or provocation ! " 
 
 " You will know her better hereafter ; " said Mr. Monck- 
 ton, calmly, " I only hope your knowledge will not be pur- 
 chased by the sacrifice of your happiness." 
 
 "And what knowledge of her, sir," cried Cecilia, 
 starting, " can have power to put my happiness in any 
 danger ? " 
 
 "I will tell you," answered he, "with all the openness 
 you have a claim to from my regard, and then leave to 
 time to show if I am mistaken. The Delvile family, not- 
 withstanding its ostentatious magnificence, I can solemnly 
 assure you, is poor in every branch, alike lineal and 
 collateral." 
 
 " But is it therefore the less estimable ? " 
 
 " Yes, because the more rapacious. And while they 
 count on each side Dukes, Earls and Barons in their 
 genealogy, the very wealth with which, through your 
 means, they project the support of their insolence, and 
 which they will grasp with all the greediness of avarice, 
 they will think honoured by being employed in their 
 service, while the instrument, all amiable as she is, by 
 which they attain it, will be constantly held down as the 
 disgrace of their alliance." 
 
 Cecilia, stung to the soul by this speech, rose from her 
 chair, unwilling to answer it, yet unable to conceal how 
 much it shocked her. Mr. Monckton, perceiving her emo- 
 tion, followed her, and taking her hand, said, " I would 
 not give this warning to one I thought too weak to profit 
 from it; but as I am well-informed of the use that is 
 meant to be made of your fortune, and the abuse that will 
 follow of yourself, I think it right to prepare you for their 
 artifices, which merely to point out may render abortive." 
 
 Cecilia, too much disturbed to thank him, drew back 
 her hand, and continued silent. Mr. Monckton, reading
 
 250 CECILIA. 
 
 through her displeasure the state of her affections, saw 
 with terror the greatness of the danger which threatened 
 him. He found, however, that the present was no time 
 for enforcing objections, and perceiving he had already 
 gone too far, though he was by no means disposed to 
 recant, he thought it most prudent to retreat, and let her 
 meditate upon his exhortation while its impression was yet 
 strong in her mind. 
 
 He would now, therefore, have taken leave ; but Cecilia, 
 endeavouring to recollect herself, and fully persuaded that 
 however he had shocked her, he had only her interest in 
 view, stopt him, saying, " You think me, perhaps, ungrate- 
 ful, but believe me I am not ; I must, however, acknow- 
 ledge that your censure of Mrs. Delvile hurts me extremely. 
 Indeed, I cannot doubt her worthiness ; I must still, there- 
 fore, plead for her, and I hope the time will come when 
 you will allow I have not pleaded unjustly." 
 
 "Justly or unjustly," answered Mr. Monckton, "I am 
 at least sure you can never plead vainly. I give up, there- 
 fore, to your opinion my attack of Mrs. Delvile, and am 
 willing from your commendations to suppose her the best of 
 the race. Nay, I will even own that perhaps Mr. Delvile 
 himself, as well as his lady, might pass through life and 
 give but little offence, had they only themselves to think 
 of, and no son to stimulate their arrogance." 
 
 " Is the son, then," said Cecilia, faintly, "so much the 
 most culpable ? " 
 
 " The son, I believe," answered he, " is at least the chief 
 incentive to insolence and ostentation in the parents, since 
 it is for his sake they covet with such avidity honours and 
 riches, since they plume themselves upon regarding him as 
 the support of their name and family, and since their 
 pride in him even surpasses their pride in their lineage and 
 themselves." 
 
 " Ah ! " thought Cecilia, " and of such a son who could 
 help being proud ! " 
 
 " Their purpose, therefore," he continued, " is to secure 
 through his means your fortune, which they will no sooner 
 obtain, than, to my certain knowledge, they mean instantly, 
 and most unmercifully, to employ it in repairing all their 
 dilapidated estates."
 
 CECILIA. 251 
 
 And then lie quitted the subject'; and, -with that guarded 
 warmth which accompanied all his expressions, told her he 
 would carefully watch for her honour and welfare, and, re- 
 peating his promise of endeavouring to discover the tie by 
 which Mr. Harrel seemed bound to the baronet, he left her 
 a prey himself to an anxiety yet more severe than that 
 with which he had filled her ! He now saw all his long- 
 cherished hopes in danger of final destruction, and suddenly 
 cast upon the brink of a precipice, where, while he struggled 
 to protect them from falling, his eyes were dazzled by be- 
 holding them totter. 
 
 Meanwhile, Cecilia, disturbed from the calm of soft se- 
 renity to which she had yielded every avenue of her soul, 
 now looked forward with distress and uneasiness, even to 
 the completion of the views which but a few minutes before 
 had comprised all her notions of felicity. The alliance 
 which so lately had seemed wholly unexceptionable, now ap- 
 peared teeming with objections, and threatening with diffi- 
 culties. The representations of Mr. Monckton had cruelly 
 mortified her ; well acquainted with his knowledge of the 
 world, and wholly unsuspicious of his selfish motives, she 
 gave to his assertions involuntary credit, and even while she 
 attempted to combat them, they made upon her mind an 
 impression scarce ever to be erased. 
 
 Full, therefore, of doubt and inquietude, she passed the 
 night in discomfort and irresolution, now determining to 
 give way to her feelings, and now to be wholly governed by 
 the counsel of Mr. Monckton. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 AN EXPECTATION. 
 
 IN this disposition of mind Cecilia, the next morning, 
 obeyed the summons of Mr. Delvile, and for the first 
 time went to St. James's-square in a humour to look for 
 evil instead of good, and meanness instead of nobleness. 
 She was shown into an apartment where she found Mr.
 
 252 CECILIA. 
 
 Delvile alone, and was received by him, as usual, with the 
 most stately solemnity. 
 
 When she was seated, " I have given you, Miss Beverley," 
 said he, " the trouble of calling, in order to discuss with you 
 the internal state of your affairs ; a duty which, at this 
 juncture, I hold to be incumbent upon my character. The 
 delicacy due to your sex would certainly have induced me 
 to wait upon you myself for this purpose, but for the reasons 
 I have already hinted to you, of fearing the people with 
 whom you live might think it necessary to return my visit. 
 Persons of low origin are commonly in those matters the 
 most forward. Not, however, that I would prejudice you 
 against them ; though, for myself, it is fit I remember that 
 a general and indiscriminate acquaintance, by levelling all 
 ranks, does injury to the rites of society." 
 
 Ah ! " thought Cecilia, " how infallible is Mr. Monckton ! 
 and how inevitably, in a family of which Mr. Delvile is the 
 head, should I be cruelly held down, as the disgrace of their 
 alliance ! " 
 
 "I have applied," continued he, "to Mrs. Delvile, to 
 know if the communication which I had recommended to 
 you, and to which she had promised her attention, had yet 
 passed ; but I am informed you have not spoken to her 
 upon the subject." 
 
 " I had nothing, sir, to communicate," answered Cecilia, 
 " and I had hoped, as Mrs. Delvile made no enquiries, she 
 was satisfied she had nothing to hear." 
 
 " With respect to enquiries," said Mr. Delvile, " I fear 
 you are not sufficiently aware of the distance between a 
 lady of Mrs. Delvile's rank, both by birth and alliance, and 
 such a young woman as Mrs. Harrel, whose ancestors, but 
 a short time since, were mere Suffolk farmers. But I beg 
 
 your pardon; 1 mean not any reflection upon yours : I 
 
 have always heard they were very worthy people. And a 
 farmer is certainly a very respectable person. Tour father, 
 I think, no more than the Dean your uncle, did nothing in 
 that way himself ? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Cecilia, drily, and much provoked by 
 this contemptuous courtesy. 
 
 " I have always been told he was a very good sort of 
 man : I knew none of the family myself, but the Dean.
 
 CECILIA. 253. 
 
 His connections with the Bishop of , my relation, put 
 
 him often in my way. Though his naming me for one of 
 his trustees, I must own, was rather extraordinary ; but I 
 mean not to hurt you ; on the contrary, I should be much 
 concerned to give you any uneasiness." 
 
 Again Mr. Monckton arose in the mind of Cecilia, and 
 again she acknowledged the truth of his strictures ; and 
 though she much wondered in what an harangue so pompous 
 was to end, her disgust so far conquered her curiosity, that 
 without hearing it she wished herself away. 
 
 "To return," said he, "to my purpose. The present 
 period of your life is such as to render advice particularly 
 seasonable ; I am sorry, therefore, as I before said, you have 
 not disclosed your situation to Mrs. Delvile. A young lady 
 on the point of making an establishment, and with many 
 engagements in her power, is extremely liable to be mis- 
 taken in her judgment, and therefore should solicit instruc- 
 tion from those who are able to acquaint her what connection 
 would be most to her advantage. One thing, however, I 
 am happy to commend : the young man who was wounded 
 
 in the duel 1 cannot recollect his name is, I hear,. 
 
 totally out of the question." 
 
 " What next ? " thought Cecilia ; though still she gavo 
 him no interruption, for the haughtiness of his manner was 
 repulsive to reply. 
 
 " My design, therefore, is to speak to you of Sir Robert 
 Floyer. When I had last the pleasure of addressing you 
 upon this subject, you may probably remember my voice- 
 was in his favour ; but I then regarded him merely as the 
 rival of an inconsiderable young man, to rescue you from 
 whom he appeared an eligible person. The affair is now 
 altered, that young man is thought of no more, and another 
 rival comes forward, to whom Sir Robert is as inconsider- 
 able as the first rival was to Sir Robert." 
 
 Cecilia started at this information, livelier sensations 
 stimulated her curiosity, and surmises in which she was 
 most deeply interested quickened her attention. 
 
 " This rival," proceeded he, " I should imagine no young 
 lady would a moment hesitate in electing ; he is every way 
 the superior of Sir Robert except in fortune, and the defi- 
 ciencies of that the splendour of your own may amply supply. !r
 
 254 CECILIA. 
 
 The deepest crimson now tinged the cheeks of Cecilia ; 
 the prophecy of Mr. Monckton seemed immediately ful- 
 filling, and she trembled with a rising conflict between her 
 approbation of the offer, and her dread of its conse- 
 quences. 
 
 " I know not, indeed," continued he, " in what estimation 
 you may have been accustomed to hold rank and connection, 
 nor whether you are impressed with a proper sense of their 
 superiority and value ; for early prejudices are not easily 
 rooted out, and those who have lived chiefly with monied 
 people, regard even birth itself as unimportant when com- 
 pared with wealth." 
 
 The colour which first glowed in the cheeks of Cecilia 
 from expectation, now rose yet higher from resentment : 
 she thought herself already insulted by a prelude so osten- 
 tatious and humiliating to the proposals which were to 
 follow ; and she angrily determined, with whatever pain to 
 her heart, to assert her own dignity, by refusing them at 
 once, too well satisfied by what she now saw of the present, 
 that Mr. Monckton had been just in his prediction of the 
 future. 
 
 " Your rejection, therefore," continued he, " of this ho- 
 nourable offer, may perhaps have been merely the conse- 
 quence of the principles in which you have been educated. " 
 
 " Rejection ? " interrupted Cecilia, amazed, " what rejec- 
 tion, sir ? " 
 
 " Have you not refused the proposals of my Lord Ernolf 
 for his son ? " 
 
 " Lord Ernolf ? never ! nor have I ever seen either his 
 lordship or his son but in public." 
 
 " That," replied Mr. Delvile, " is little to the purpose ; 
 where the connexion is a proper one, a young lady of deli- 
 cacy has only to accede to it. But though this rejection 
 came not immediately from yourself, it had doubtless your 
 concurrence." 
 
 " It had not, sir, even my knowledge." 
 
 " Your alliance, then, with Sir Robert Floyer is probably 
 nearer a conclusion than I had imagined, for otherwise Mr. 
 Harrel would not, without consulting you, have given the 
 Earl so determinate an answer." 
 
 "No, sir," said Cecilia, impatiently, "my alliance with
 
 CECILIA. 255 
 
 him was never more distant, nor do I mean it should ever 
 approach more near." 
 
 She was now little disposed for further conversation. 
 Her heroic design of refusing young Delvile by no means 
 reconciled her to the discovery she now made that he had 
 not meant to address her ; and though she was provoked 
 and fretted at this new proof that Mr. Harrel scrupled 
 neither assertions nor actions to make her engagement with 
 Sir Robert credited, her disappointment in finding that Mr 
 Delvile, instead of pleading the cause of his son, was ex- 
 erting his interest for another person, affected her so much 
 more nearly, that notwithstanding he still continued his pa- 
 rading harangue, she scarcely knew even the subject of his 
 discourse, and seized the first opportunity of a cessation to 
 rise and take her leave. 
 
 He asked her if she would not call upon Mrs. Delvile : 
 but desirous to be alone, she declined the invitation : he 
 then charged her to proceed no further with Sir Robert till 
 he had made some enquiries concerning Lord Ernolf, and 
 graciously promising his protection and counsel, suffered 
 her to depart. 
 
 Cecilia now perceived she might plan her rejections, or 
 study her dignity at her leisure, for neither Mr. Delvile nor 
 liis son seemed in any haste to put her fortitude to the proof. 
 With regard, therefore, to their plots and intentions, Mr. 
 Monckton she found was wrong, but with respect to their 
 conduct and sentiments, she had every reason to believe him 
 right : and though her heart refused to rejoice in escaping 
 a trial of its strength, her judgment was so well convinced 
 that his painting was from the life, that she determined to 
 conquer her partiality for young Delvile, since she looked 
 forward to nothing but mortification in a connexion with 
 his family.
 
 250 CECILIA. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AN AGITATION. 
 
 WITH this intention, and every faculty of her mind 
 absorbed in reflecting upon the reasons which gave 
 rise to it, she returned to Portman-square. 
 
 As her chair was carried into the hall, she observed, with 
 some alarm, a look of consternation among the servants, 
 and an appearance of confusion in the whole house. She 
 was proceeding to her own room, intending to enquire of 
 her maid if any evil had happened, when she was crossed 
 upon the stairs by Mr. Harrel, who passed her with an air 
 so wild and perturbed, that he hardly seemed to know her. 
 
 Frightened and amazed, she stopt short, irresolute which 
 way to go ; but, hastily returning, he beckoned her to follow 
 him. 
 
 She obeyed, and he led her to the library. He then shut 
 the door, and abruptly seizing her hand, called out, " Miss 
 Beverley, I am rained ! I am undone ! I am blasted for 
 
 ever 
 
 I " 
 
 "I hope not, sir!" said Cecilia, extremely terrified, "I 
 hope not ! Where is Mrs. Harrel ? " 
 
 " 0, I know not ! I know not ! " cried he, in a frantic 
 manner, " but I have not seen her, I cannot see her, I 
 hope I shall never see her more ! " 
 
 " 0, fie ! fie ! " said Cecilia, " let me call her, I beg ; you 
 should consult with her in this distress, and seek comfort 
 from her affection." 
 
 " From her affection ? " repeated he, fiercely, " from her 
 hatred vou mean ! do you not know that she, too, is ruined ?
 
 CECILIA. 257 
 
 Oh past redemption ruined ! and yet that I should hesitate, 
 that I should a moment hesitate, to conclude the whole 
 business at once ! " 
 
 " How dreadful ! " cried Cecilia, " what horrible thing 
 has happened ? " 
 
 " I have undone Priscilla ! " cried he, " I have blasted my 
 credit! I have destroyed no, not yet quite destroyed myself!" 
 
 " not yet, nor ever ! " cried Cecilia, whose agitation now 
 almost equalled his own, "be not so desperate, I conjure 
 you ! speak to me more intelligibly, what does all this 
 mean ? How has it come to pass ? " 
 
 " My debts ! my creditors ! one way only," striking 
 his hand upon his forehead, " is left for me ! " 
 
 " Do not say so, sir ! " said Cecilia, " you shall find many 
 ways ; pray have courage ! pray speak calmly ; and if you 
 will but be more prudent, will but, in future, better regu- 
 late your affairs, I will myself undertake " 
 
 She stopt ; checked in the full career of her overflowing 
 compassion, by a sense of the worthlessness of its object ; 
 and by the remembrance of the injunctions of Mr. Monckton. 
 
 " What will you undertake? " cried he, eagerly, " I know 
 you are an angel ! tell me, what will you undertake ? " 
 
 " I will, " said Cecilia, hesitating, " I will speak to 
 Mr. Monckton, I will consult " 
 
 " You may as well consult with every cursed creditor in 
 the house ! " interrupted he ; "but do so, if you please ; my 
 disgrace must perforce reach him soon, and a short antici- 
 pation is not worth begging off." 
 
 " Are your creditors then actually in the house ? " 
 
 " yes, yes ! and therefore it is high time I should be 
 out of it ! Did you not see them ? Do they not line the 
 hall ? They threaten me with three executions before 
 night ! three executions unless I satisfy their immediate 
 demands ! " 
 
 " And to what do their demands amount ? " 
 
 " I know not ! I dare not ask ! to some thousand pounds, 
 perhaps, and I have not, at this minute, forty guineas in 
 the house ! " 
 
 " Kay, then," cried Cecilia, retreating, " I can indeed do 
 nothing ! if their demands are so high, I ought to do 
 nothing."
 
 258 CECILIA. 
 
 She would then have quitted him, not more shocked at 
 his situation, than indignant at the wilful extravagance 
 which had occasioned it. 
 
 " Stay," cried he, " and hear me ! " then lowering his 
 voice, " seek out," he continued, " your unfortunate friend, 
 go to the poor ruined Priscilla, prepare her for tidings 
 of horror ! and do not, though you renounce Me, do not 
 abandon Her ! " 
 
 Then, fiercely passing her, he was himself leaving the 
 room ; but Cecilia, alarmed by the fury of his manner, 
 called out, " What is it you mean ? what tidings of horror? 
 whither are you going ? " 
 
 " To hell ! " cried he, and rushed out of the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 Cecilia screamed aloud, and conjuring him to hear her, 
 ran after him ; he paid her no regard, but, flying faster 
 than she had power to pursue, reached his own dressing- 
 room, shut himself into it with violence, and just as she 
 arrived at the door, turned the key, and bolted it. 
 
 Her terror was now inexpressible ; she believed him in 
 the very act of suicide, and her refusal of assistance seemed 
 the signal for the deed : her whole fortune, at that moment, 
 was valueless and unimportant to her, compared with the 
 preservation of a fellow-creature : she called out with all 
 the vehemence of agony to beg he would open the door, 
 and eagerly promised by all that was sacred to do every 
 thing in her power to save him. 
 
 At these words he opened it ; his face was totally without 
 colour, and he grasped a razor in his hand. 
 
 " You have stopt me," said he, in a voice scarce audible, 
 " at the very moment I had gathered courage for the blow : 
 but if indeed you will assist me, I will shut this up, if 
 not, I will steep it my blood ! " 
 
 " I will ! I will ! " cried Cecilia, " I will do everything 
 you desire ! " 
 
 " And quickly ? " 
 
 " Immediately." 
 
 " Before my disgrace is known ? and while all may yet 
 be hushed up ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! all any everything you wish ! " 
 
 "Swear, then!"
 
 CECILIA. 259 
 
 Here Cecilia drew back ; her recollection returned as her 
 terror abated, and her repugnance to entering into an en- 
 gagement for she knew not what, with a man whose actions 
 she condemned, and whose principles she abhorred, made 
 all her fright now give way to indignation, and, after a 
 short pause, she angrily answered, " No, sir, I will not 
 swear ! but yet, all that is reasonable, all that is 
 friendly " 
 
 "Hear me swear, then ! " interrupted he, furiously, " which 
 at this moment I do, by every thing eternal, and by every 
 thing infernal, that I will not outlive the seizure of my pro- 
 perty, and that the moment I am informed there is an 
 execution in my house, shall be the last of my existence! " 
 
 " What cruelty ! what compulsion ! what impiety ! " cried 
 Cecilia : " give me, however, that horrible instrument, and 
 prescribe to me what conditions you please." 
 
 A noise was now heard below stairs, at which Cecilia, 
 who had not dared call for help lest she should quicken his 
 desperation, was secretly beginning to rejoice, when, start- 
 ing at the sound, he exclaimed, "I believe you are too late! 
 the ruffians have already seized my house ! " then, en- 
 deavouring to force her out of the room, " Go," he cried 
 " to my wife ; I want to be alone ! " 
 
 " Oh, give me first," cried she, " that weapon, and I will 
 take what oath you please ! " 
 
 " No, no ! go, leave me, " cried he, almost breathless 
 with emotion, " I must not now be trifled with." 
 
 " I do not trifle! indeed I do not ! " cried Cecilia, holding 
 by his arm : " try, put me to the proof ! " 
 
 " Swear, solemnly swear, to empty my house of these 
 creditors this moment ! " 
 
 " I do swear," cried she, with energy, " and Heaven 
 prosper me as I am sincere ! " 
 
 " I see, I see you are an angel ! " cried he, rapturously, 
 " and as such I worship and adore you ! 0, you have restored 
 me to life, and rescued me from perdition ! " 
 
 " Give me, then, that fatal instrument ! " 
 
 " That instrument," returned he, " is nothing, since so 
 many others are in my power ; but you have now taken 
 from me all desire of using them. Go, then, and stop those 
 wretches from coming to me send immediately for the
 
 260 CECILIA. 
 
 Jew ! he -will advance what money you please, my man 
 knows where to find him ; consult with Mr. Ariiott, 
 speak a word of comfort to Priscilla, but do nothing, no- 
 thing at all, till you have cleared my house of those cursed 
 scoundrels ! " 
 
 Cecilia, whose heart sunk within her at the solemn pro- 
 mise she had given, the mention of the Jew, and the 
 arduous task she had undertaken, quitted him without 
 reply, and was going to her own room, to compose her 
 hurried spirits, and consider what steps she had to take, 
 when, hearing the noise in the hall grow louder, she stopt 
 to listen, and catching some words that greatly alarmed 
 her, went half way down stairs, when she was met by 
 Davison, Mr. Barrel's man, of whom she enquired into 
 the occasion of the disturbance. 
 
 He answered that he must go immediately to his master, 
 for the bailiffs were coming into the house. 
 
 " Let him not know it if you value his life ! " cried she, 
 with new terror. " Where is Mr. Arnott ? call him to me 
 beg him to come this moment ; I will wait for him 
 here." 
 
 The man flew to obey her : and Cecilia, finding she had 
 time neither for deliberation nor regret, and dreading lest 
 Mr. Harrel, by hearing of the arrival of the bailiffs, should 
 relapse into despair, determined to call to her aid all the 
 courage, prudence, and judgment she possessed, and since 
 to act she was compelled, endeavour with her best ability, to 
 save his credit, and retrieve his affairs. 
 
 The moment Mr. Arnott came, she ordered Davison to 
 hasten to his master, and watch his motions. 
 
 Then, addressing Mr. Arnott, " Will you, sir," she said, 
 " go and tell those people that if they will instantly quit 
 the house, every thing shall be settled, and Mr. Harrel will 
 satisfy their demands ? " 
 
 " Ah, madam ! " cried Mr. Arnott, mournfully, " and 
 how ? he has no means to pay them, and I have none 
 without ruin to myself, to help him ! " 
 
 " Send them but away," said Cecilia, " and I will myself 
 be your security that your promise shall not be disgraced." 
 
 "Alas, madam," cried he, " what are you doing ? well as 
 I wish to Mr. Harrel, miserable as I am for my unfortunate
 
 CECILIA. 261 
 
 sister, I yet cannot bear that such goodness, such benefi- 
 cence should be injured ! " 
 
 Cecilia, however, persisted, and with evident reluctance 
 lie obeyed her. 
 
 While she waited his return, Davison came from Mr. 
 Harrel, who had ordered him to run instantly for the 
 Jew. 
 
 " Good Heaven," thought Cecilia, " that a man so wretch- 
 edly selfish and worldly, should dare, with all his guilt 
 upon his head, 
 
 ' To rush unlicenced on eternity ! ' ' " 
 
 Mr. Arnott was more than half an hour with the people ; 
 and when, at last, he returned, his countenance immediately 
 proclaimed the ill success of his errand. The creditors, 
 he said, declared they had so frequently been deceived, that 
 they would not dismiss the bailiffs, or retire themselves, 
 without actual payment. 
 
 "Tell them, then, sir," said Cecilia, "to send me their 
 accounts, and, if it be possible, I will discharge them 
 directly." 
 
 Mr. Arnott's eyes were filled with tears at this declara- 
 tion, and he protested, be the consequence to himself what 
 it might, he would pay away every shilling he was worth, 
 rather than witness such injustice. 
 
 " No," cried Cecilia, exerting more spirit, that she 
 might shock him less, " I did not save Mr. Harrel, to 
 destroy so much better a man ! you have suffered but too 
 much oppression already ; the present evil is mine ; and 
 from me, at least, none I hope will ever spread to Mr 
 Arnott." 
 
 Mr. Arnott could not bear this ; he was struck with 
 grief, with admiration, and with gratitude, and finding his 
 tears now refused to be restrained, he went to execute her 
 commission in silent dejection. 
 
 The dejection, however, was encreased, though his tears 
 were dispersed, when he returned ; " Oh, madam ! " he 
 cried, " all your efforts, generous as they are, will be of no 
 avail ! the bills even now in the house amount to more than 
 7000 ! " 
 
 1 Mason's Elfricla. Author's nod.
 
 262 CECILIA. 
 
 Cecilia, amazed and confounded, started and clasped her 
 hands, calling out, " What must I do ! to what have I bound 
 myself ! and how can I answer to my conscience, to my 
 successors, such a disposal, such an abuse of so large a part 
 of my fortune ! " 
 
 Mr. Arnott could make no answer ; and they stood look- 
 ing at each other in silent irresolution, till Davison brought 
 intelligence that the Jew was already come, and waited to 
 speak with her. 
 
 "And -what can I say to him?" cried she, more and 
 more agitated ; " I understand nothing of usury ; how am 
 I to deal with him ? " 
 
 Mr. Arnott then confessed that he should himself have 
 instantly been bail for his brother, but that his fortune, 
 originally not large, was now so much impaired by the 
 many debts which from time he had paid for him, that as 
 he hoped some day to have a family of his own, he dared 
 not run a risk by which he might be utterly ruined, ami 
 the less, as his sister had at Violet Bank been prevailed 
 upon to give up her settlement. 
 
 This account, which explained the late uneasiness of Mrs. 
 Harrel, still encreased the distress of Cecilia ; and eveiy 
 moment she obtained for reflection, augmented her reluc- 
 tance to parting with so large a sum of money for so 
 worthless an object, and added strength to her resentment 
 for the unjustifiable menaces which had extorted from her 
 such a promise. Yet not an instant would she listen to 
 Mr. Arnott's offer of fulfilling her engagement, and charged 
 him, as he considered her own self-esteem worth her 
 keeping, not to urge to her a proposal so ungenerous and 
 selfish. 
 
 Davison now came again to hasten her, and said that 
 the Jew was with his master, and they both impatiently 
 expected her. 
 
 Cecilia, half distracted with her uncertainty how to act, 
 changed colour at this message, and exclaimed, " Oh, Mr. 
 Arnott, run I beseech you for Mr. Monckton ! bring him 
 hither directly, if any body can save me it is him ; but if 
 I go back to Mr. Harrel, I know it will be all over ! " 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Arnott, " I will run to him this 
 moment."
 
 CECILIA. 263 
 
 "Yet BO ! stop ! " cried the trembling Cecilia, " he can 
 now do me no good, his counsel will arrive too late to serve 
 me, it cannot call back the oath I have given ! it cannot, 
 compulsatory as it was, make me break it, and not be 
 miserable for ever ! " 
 
 This idea sufficed to determine her; and the apprehension 
 of self-reproach, should the threat of Mr. Harrel be put in 
 execution, was more insupportable to her blameless and 
 upright mind, than any loss or diminution which her for- 
 tune could sustain. 
 
 Slowly, however, with tardy and unwilling steps, her 
 judgment repugnant, and her spirit repining, she obeyed the 
 summons of Mr. Harrel, who, impatient of her delay, came 
 forward to meet her. 
 
 " Miss Beverley," he cried, " there is not a moment to be 
 lost ; this good man will bring you any sum of money, 
 upon a proper consideration, that you will command ; but 
 if he is not immediately commissioned, and these cursed 
 fellows are not got out of my house, the affair will be 
 
 blown, and what will follow," added he, lowering his 
 
 voice, " I will not again frighten you by repeating, though 
 I shall never recant." 
 
 Cecilia turned from him in horror ; and, with a faltering 
 voice and heavy heart, entreated Mr. Arnott to settle for 
 her with the Jew. 
 
 Large as was the sum, she was so near being of age, and 
 her security was so good, that the transaction was soon 
 finished : 7500 was received of the Jew, Mr. Harrel gave 
 Cecilia his bond for the payment, the creditors were 
 satisfied, the bailiffs were dismissed, and the house was 
 soon restored to its customary appearance of splendid 
 gaiety. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, who during this scene had shut herself up 
 in her own room to weep and lament, now flew to Cecilia, 
 and in a transport of joy and gratitude, thanked her upon 
 her knees for thus preserving her from utter ruin : the 
 gentle Mr. Arnott seemed uncertain whether most to 
 grieve or rejoice ; and Mr. Harrel repeatedly protested she 
 should have the sole guidance of his future conduct. 
 
 This promise, the hope of his amendment, and the joy 
 she had expanded, somewhat revived the spirits of Cecilia ;
 
 2G4 CECILIA. 
 
 who, however, deeply affected by what had passed, hastened 
 from them all to her own room. 
 
 She had now parted with 8050 to Mr. Harrel, without 
 any security when or how it was to be paid; and that 
 ardour of benevolence which taught her to value her riches 
 merely as they enabled her to do good and generous 
 actions, was here of no avail to console or reward her, for 
 her gift was compelled, and its receiver was all but detested. 
 " How much better," cried she, " would this have been 
 bestowed upon the amiable Miss Belfield ! or upon her 
 noble-minded, though proud-spirited brother ! and how 
 much less a sum would have made the virtuous and indus- 
 trious Hills easy and happy for life ! but here, to become 
 the tool of the extravagance I abhor ! to be made responsible 
 for the luxury I condemn ! to be liberal in opposition to my 
 principles, and lavish in defiance of my judgment ! Oh, that 
 iny much-deceived uncle had better known to what dangerous 
 hands he committed me ! and that my weak and unhappy 
 friend had met with a worthier protector of her virtue and 
 safety ! " 
 
 As soon, however, as she recovered from the first shock 
 of her reflections, she turned her thoughts from herself to 
 the formation of some plan that might, at least, render her 
 donation of serious and lasting use. The signal service 
 she had just done them gave her at present an ascendancy 
 over the Harrels, which she hoped, if immediately exerted, 
 might prevent the return of so calamitous a scene, by en- 
 gaging them both to an immediate change of conduct. 
 But unequal herself to contriving expedients for this 
 purpose that might not easily be controverted, she deter- 
 mined to send the next morning a petition to Mr. Monck- 
 ton to call upon her, reveal to him the whole transaction, 
 and entreat him to suggest to her what, with most proba- 
 bility of success, she might offer to their consideration. 
 
 While this was passing in her mind, on the evening of 
 the day in which she had so dearly purchased the right of 
 giving counsel, she was summoned to tea. 
 
 She found Mr. Harrel and his lady engaged in earnest 
 discourse : as soon as she appeared, the former said, 
 " My dear Miss Beverley, after the extraordinary kind- 
 ness you have shown me this morning, you will not, I am
 
 CECILIA. 265 
 
 sure, deny me one trifling favour which I mean to ask 
 this evening." 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Harrel, " that I am sure she will not, 
 when she knows that our future appearance in the world 
 depends upon her granting it." 
 
 " I hope then," said Cecilia, " I shall not wish to 
 refuse it." 
 
 " It is nothing in the world," said Mr. Harrel, " but to 
 go with us to-night to the Pantheon." 
 
 Cecilia was struck with the utmost indignation at this 
 proposal ; that the man who in the morning had an execu- 
 tion in his house, should languish in the evening for the 
 amusement of a public place, that he who but a few hours 
 before was plunging uncalled into eternity, should, while 
 the intended instrument of death was yet scarce cold from 
 the grasp of his hand, deliberately court a return of his 
 distress, by instantly recurring to the methods which had 
 involved him in it, irritated and shocked her beyond even a 
 wish of disguising her displeasure, and therefore, after an ex- 
 pressive silence, she gave a cold, but absolute denial. 
 
 "I see," said Mr. Harrel, somewhat confused, "you do 
 not understand the motives of our request. The unfor- 
 tunate affair of this morning is very likely to spread 
 presently all over the town ; the only refutation that can 
 be given to it, is by our all appearing in public before any 
 body knows whether to believe it or not." 
 
 " Do, my dearest friend," cried his lady, " oblige me by 
 your compliance ; indeed our whole reputation depends 
 upon it. I made an engagement yesterday to go with 
 Mrs. Mears, and if I disappoint her, every body will be 
 guessing the reason." 
 
 " At least," answered Cecilia, " my going can answer no 
 purpose to you : pray, therefore, do not ask me ; I am ?11 
 disposed for such sort of amusement, and have by no 
 means your opinion of its necessity." 
 
 " But if we do not all go," said Mr. Harrel, " we do 
 almost nothing : you are known to live with us, and your 
 appearance at this critical time is important to our credit. 
 If this misfortune gets wind, the consequence is that every 
 dirty tradesman in town to whom I owe a shilling, will be 
 forming the same cursed combination those scoundrels
 
 266 CECILIA. 
 
 formed this morning, of coming in a body, and waiting 
 for their money, or else bringing an execution into my 
 house. The only way to silence report is by putting a 
 good face upon the matter at once, and showing ourselves 
 to the world as if nothing had happened. Favour us, 
 therefore, to-night with your company, which is really 
 important to us, or ten to one, but in another fortnight, I 
 shall be just in the same scrape." 
 
 Cecilia, however incensed at this intelligence that his 
 debts were still so numerous, felt now as much alarmed at 
 the mention of an execution, as if she was in actual danger 
 of ruin herself. Terrified, therefore, though not con- 
 vinced, she yielded to their persuasions, and consented to 
 accompany them. 
 
 They soon after separated to make some alteration in 
 their dress ; and then, calling in their way for Mrs. Mears 
 they proceeded to the Pantheon. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A MAN OF THE TON. 
 
 AT the door of the Pantheon they were joined by Mr. 
 Arnott and Sir Robert Floyer, whom Cecilia now 
 saw with added aversion : they entered the great room 
 during the second act of the Concert, to which, as no one 
 of the party but herself had any desire to listen, no sort of 
 attention was paid ; the ladies entertaining themselves as 
 if no orchestra was in the room, and the gentlemen, with 
 an equal disregard to it, struggling for a place by the fire, 
 about which they continued hovering till the music was 
 over. 
 
 Soon after they were seated, Mr. Meadows, sauntering 
 towards them, whispered something to Mrs. Mears, who, 
 immediately rising, introduced him to Cecilia ; after which, 
 the place next to her being vacant, he cast himself upon it, 
 and lolling as much at his ease as his situation would 
 permit, began something like a conversation with her. 
 
 " Have you been long in town, ma'am ? " 
 
 " No, sir."
 
 CECILIA. 267 
 
 " This is not your first winter ? " 
 
 " Of being in town, it is." 
 
 " Then you have something new to see : O charming ! 
 how I envy you ! Are you pleased with the Pantheon ? " 
 
 " Very much ; I have seen no building at all equal 
 to it." 
 
 " You have not been abroad. Travelling is the ruin of 
 all happiness ! There's no looking at a building here after 
 seeing Italy." 
 
 " Does all happiness, then, depend upon the sight of 
 buildings ?" said Cecilia, when, turning towards her com- 
 panion, she perceived him yawning, with such evident in- 
 attention to her answer, that not choosing to interrupt his 
 reverie, she turned her head another way. 
 
 For some minutes he took no notice of this ; and then, 
 as if suddenly recollecting himself, he called out hastily, 
 " I beg your pardon, ma'am, yon were saying some- 
 thing?" 
 
 " No, sir, nothing worth repeating." 
 
 " 0, pray don't punish me so severely as not to let me 
 hear it ! " 
 
 Cecilia, though merely not to seem offended at his neg- 
 ligence, was then again beginning an answer, when looking 
 at him as she spoke, she perceived that he was biting his 
 nails with so absent an air, that he appeared not to know 
 he had asked any question. She therefore broke off, and 
 left him to his cogitation. 
 
 Some time after he addressed her again, saying, " Don't 
 you find this place extremely tiresome, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said she, half laughing, " it is, indeed, not 
 very entertaining ! " 
 
 " Nothing is entertaining," answered he, " for two 
 minutes together. Things are so little different one from 
 another, that there is no making pleasure out of any 
 thing. We go the same dull round for ever ; nothing new, 
 no variety ! all the same thing over again ! Are you fond 
 of public places, ma'am ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, soberly, as Lady Grace says." 
 
 " Then I envy you extremely, for you have some 
 amusement always in your own power. How desirable 
 that is ! "
 
 268 CECILIA. 
 
 " And have not you the same resources ? " 
 
 " O no ! I am tired to death ! tired of every thing ! I 
 would give the universe for a disposition less difficult to 
 please. Yet, after all, what is there to give pleasure ? 
 When one has seen one thing, one has seen every thing. 
 O, 'tis heavy work ! Don't you find it so, ma'am ? " 
 
 This speech was ended with so violent a fit of yawning, 
 that Cecilia would not trouble herself to answer it : but her 
 silence, as before, passed wholly unnoticed, exciting neither 
 question nor comment. 
 
 A long pause now succeeded, which he broke at last, by 
 saying, as he writhed himself about upon his seat, " These 
 forms would be much more agreeable if there were backs 
 to them. 'Tis intolerable to be forced to sit like a school- 
 boy. The first study of life is ease. There is, indeed, no 
 other study that pays the trouble of attainment. Don't 
 you think so, ma'am ? " 
 
 " But may not even that," said Cecilia, " by so much 
 study, become labour ? " 
 
 " I am vastly happy you think so." 
 
 Sir ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, ma'am, but I thought you said 
 
 I really beg your pardon, but I was thinking of something 
 else." ' 
 
 " You did very right, sir," said Cecilia, laughing, " for 
 what I said by no means merited any attention." 
 
 "Will you do me the favour to repeat it ?" cried he 
 taking out his glass to examine some lady at a distance. 
 
 " O, no," said Cecilia, " that would be trying your 
 patience too severely." 
 
 " These glasses show one nothing but defects," said he ; 
 " I am sorry they "were ever invented. They are the ruin 
 of all beauty ; no complexion can stand them. I believe 
 that solo will never be over ! I hate a solo ; it sinks, it 
 depresses me intolerably." 
 
 " You will presently, sir," said Cecilia, looking at the 
 bill of the concert, " have a full piece ; and that, I hope, 
 will revive you." 
 
 " A full piece ! oh insupportable ! it stuns, it fatigues, it 
 overpowers me beyond endurance ! no taste in it, no deli- 
 cacy, no room for the smallest feeling."
 
 CECILIA. 269 1 
 
 " Perhaps, then, you are only fond of singing ? " 
 " I should be, if I could hear it ; but we are now so 
 miserably off in voices, that I hardly ever attempt to listen 
 to a song, without fancying myself deaf from the feeble- 
 ness of the performers. I hate everything that requires 
 attention. Nothing gives pleasure that does not force it? 
 own way." 
 
 " You only, then, like loud voices, and great powers ?" 
 
 " 0, worse and worse ! no, nothing is so disgusting 
 
 to me. All my amazement is that these people think it 
 worth while to give concerts at all ; one is sick to death of 
 music." 
 
 " Nay," cried Cecilia, " if it gives no pleasure, at least it 
 takes none away ; for, far from being any impediment to- 
 conversation, I think every body talks more during the 
 performance than between the acts. And what is there 
 better you could substitute in its place ? " 
 
 Cecilia, receiving no answer to this question, again 
 looked round to see if she had been heard ; when she ob- 
 served her new acquaintance, with a very thoughtful air,, 
 had turned from her to fix his eyes upon the statue of 
 Britannia. 
 
 Very soon after, he hastily arose, and seeming entirely to< 
 forget that he had spoken to her, very abruptly walked away. 
 
 Mr. Gosport, who was advancing to Cecilia, and had 
 watched part of this scene, stopt him as he was retreating, 
 and said " Why Meadows, how's this ? are you caught at 
 last?" 
 
 "0, worn to death! worn to a thread!" cried he, 
 stretching himself and yawning ; " I have been talking 
 with a young lady to entertain her ! O, such heavy work ! 
 I would not go through it again for millions ! " 
 
 " What, have you talked yourself out of breath ? " 
 
 " No ; but the effort ! the effort ! 0, it has unhinged 
 me for a fortnight ! Entertaining a young lady ! one had 
 better be a galley-slave at once ! " 
 
 " Well but, did she not pay your toils ? She is surely 
 a sweet creature." 
 
 " Nothing can pay one for such insufferable exertion !' 
 though she's well enough, too, better than the common 1 
 run, but shy, quite too shy ; no drawing her out."
 
 270 CECILIA. 
 
 " I thought that was to your taste. You commonly hate 
 much volubility. How have I heard you bemoan yourself 
 when attacked by Miss Larolles ! " 
 
 " Larolles ? 0, distraction ! She talks me into a fever 
 in two minutes. But so it is for ever ! nothing but ex- 
 tremes to be met with ! common girls are too forward, this 
 
 lady is too reserved always some fault ! always some 
 
 drawback ! nothing ever perfect ! " 
 
 " Nay, nay," cried Mr. Grosport, " you do not know her ; 
 she is perfect enough in all conscience." 
 
 "Better not know her then," answered he, again yawn- 
 ing, " for she cannot be pleasing. Nothing perfect* is 
 natural ; I hate every thing out of nature." 
 
 He then strolled on, and Mr. Grosport approached 
 Cecilia. 
 
 " I have been wishing," cried he, " to address you this 
 half hour, but as you were engaged with Mr. Meadows, I 
 did not dare advance." 
 
 " 0, I see your malice ! " cried Cecilia ; " you were 
 -determined to add weight to the value of your company, 
 'by making me fully sensible where the balance would pre- 
 ponderate." 
 
 " Nay, if you do not admire Mr. Meadows," cried he, 
 " you must not even whisper it to the winds." 
 
 " Is he then so very admirable ? " 
 
 " 0, he is now in the very height of fashionable favour : 
 his dress is a model, his manners are imitated, his attention 
 is courted, and his notice is envied." 
 
 " Are you not laughing ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ; his privileges are much more extensive 
 than I have mentioned : his decision fixes the exact limits 
 between what is vulgar and what is elegant, his praise 
 gives reputation, and a word from him in public confers 
 fashion!" 
 
 " And by what wonderful powers has he acquired such 
 influence ? " 
 
 " By nothing but a happy art in catching the reigning 
 foibles of the times, and carrying them to an extreme yet 
 more absurd than any one had done before him. Cere- 
 mony, he found, was already exploded for ease, he there- 
 fore, exploded ease for indolence ; devotion to the fair sex
 
 CECILIA. 271 
 
 had given way to a more equal and rational intercourse, 
 which, to push still farther, he presently exchanged for 
 rudeness; joviality, too, was already banished for philo- 
 sophical indifference, and that, therefore, he discarded, for 
 weariness and disgust." 
 
 " And is it possible that qualities such as these should 
 recommend him to favonr and admiration ? " 
 
 " Very possible, for qualities such as these constitute the 
 present state of the times. A man of the Ton, who would 
 now be conspicuous in the gay world, must invariably be 
 insipid, negligent, and selfish." 
 
 " Admirable requisites ! " cried Cecilia ; " and Mr. 
 Meadows, I acknowledge, seems to have attained them all." 
 
 " He must never," continued Mr. Gosport, " confess the 
 least pleasure from any thing, a total apathy being the 
 chief ingredient of his character : he must, upon no account, 
 sustain a conversation with any spirit, lest he should appear, 
 to his utter disgrace, interested in what is said : and when 
 he is quite tired of his existence, from a total vacuity of 
 ideas, he must affect a look of absence, and pretend, on the 
 sudden, to be wholly lost in thought." 
 
 "I would not wish," said Cecilia, laughing, "a more 
 amiable companion ! " 
 
 " If he is asked his opinion of any lady," he continued, 
 " he must commonly answer by a grimace ; and if he is 
 seated next to one, he must take the utmost pains to show 
 by his listlessness, yawning and inattention, that he is sick 
 of his situation; for what he holds of all things to be most 
 gothic, is gallantry to the women. To avoid this is, indeed, 
 the principal solicitude of his life. If he sees a lady in 
 distress for her carriage, he is to enquire of her what is the 
 matter, and then, with a shrug, wish her well through her 
 fatigues, wink at some by-stander, and walk away. If he 
 is in a room where there is a crowd of company, and a 
 scarcity of seats, he must early ensure one of the best in 
 the place, be blind to all looks of fatigue, and deaf to all 
 hints of assistance, and seeming totally to forget himself, 
 lounge at his ease, and appear an unconscious spectator of 
 what is going forward. If he is at a ball where there are 
 more women than men, he must decline dancing at all, 
 though it should happen to be his favourite amusement,
 
 272 CECILIA. 
 
 and smiling as he passes the disengaged young ladies, 
 wonder to see them sit still, and perhaps ask them the 
 reason ! " 
 
 " A most alluring character indeed ! " cried Cecilia ; 
 " and pray how long have these been the accomplishments 
 of a fine gentleman ? " 
 
 "I ana but an indifferent chronologer of the modes," he 
 answered ; " but I know it has been long enough to raise 
 just expectations that some new folly will be started soon, 
 by which the present race of INSENSIBLISTS may be 
 driven out. Mr. Meadows is now at the head of this sect, 
 as Miss Larolles is of the VOLUBLE, and Miss Leeson of 
 the SUPERCILIOUS. But this way comes another, 
 who, though in a different manner, labours with the same 
 view, and aspires at the same reward, which stimulate the 
 ambition of this happy Triplet, that of exciting wonder by 
 peculiarity, and envy by wonder." 
 
 This description announced Captain Aresby ; who, ad- 
 vancing from the fire-place, told Cecilia how much he 
 rejoiced in seeing her, said he had been reduced to despair 
 by so long missing that honour, and that he had feared she 
 made it a principle to avoid coming in public, having sought 
 her in vain partout. 
 
 He then smiled, and strolled on to another party. 
 
 " And pray of what sect," said Cecilia, " is this gentle- 
 man ?" 
 
 "Of the sect of JAEGONISTS," answered Mr. Gos- 
 port ; " he has not an ambition beyond paying a passing 
 compliment, nor a word to make use of that he has not 
 picked up at public places. Yet this dearth of language, 
 however you may despise it, is not merely owing to a 
 narrow capacity : foppery and conceit have their share in 
 the limitation, for though his phrases are almost always 
 ridiculous or misapplied, they are selected with much 
 study, and introduced with infinite pain." 
 
 " Poor man ! " cried Cecilia, " is it possible it can cost 
 him any trouble to render himself so completely ab- 
 surd ? "' 
 
 " Yes; but not more than it costs his neighbours to keep 
 him in countenance. Miss Leeson, since she has presided 
 over the sect of the SUPERCILIOUS, spends at least
 
 CECILIA. 273 
 
 half her life in wishing the annihilation of the other half ; 
 for as she must only speak in her own coterie, she is com- 
 pelled to be frequently silent, and therefore, having nothing 
 to think of, she is commonly gnawn with self-denial, and 
 soured with want of amusement : Miss Larolles, indeed, is 
 better off, for in talking faster than she thinks, she has but 
 followed the natural bent of her disposition: as to this poor 
 JARGrONIST, he has, I must own, rather a hard task, 
 from, the continual restraint of speaking only out of his 
 own Liliputian vocabulary, and denying himself the relief 
 of ever uttering one word by the call of occasion : but what 
 hardship is that, compared with what is borne by Mr. 
 Meadows ? who, since he commenced INSENSIBLIST, 
 has never once dared to be pleased, nor ventured for a 
 moment to look in good humour ! " 
 
 " Surely, then," said Cecilia, "in a short time, the punish- 
 ment of this affectation will bring its cure." 
 
 " No ; for the trick grows into habit, and habit is a 
 second nature. A secret idea of fame makes his forbear- 
 ance of happiness supportable to him ; for he has now the 
 self-satisfaction of considering himself raised to that highest 
 pinnacle of fashionable refinement which is built upon apathy 
 and scorn, and from which, proclaiming himself superior 
 to all possibility of enjoyment, he views the whole world 
 with contempt ! holding neither beauty, virtue, wealth nor 
 power, of importance sufficient to kindle the smallest 
 emotion ! " 
 
 " 0, that they could all round listen to you ! " cried Cecilia; 
 " they would soon, I think, sicken of their folly, if they 
 heard it thus admirably exposed." 
 
 " No ; they would but triumph that it had obtained them 
 so much notice ! But pray do you see that gentleman, or 
 don't you choose to know him, who has been bowing to 
 you this half hour ? " 
 
 " Where ? " cried Cecilia, and, looking round, perceived 
 Mr. Morrice ; who, upon her returning his salutation, in- 
 stantly approached her, though he had never ventured to 
 show himself at Mr. Harrel's, since his unfortunate acci- 
 dent on the evening of the masquerade. 
 
 Entirely casting aside the easy familiarity at which he 
 had latterly arrived, he enquired after her health with the 
 
 T
 
 274 CECILIA. 
 
 most fearful diffidence, and then, bowing profoundly, was 
 modestly retiring; when Mrs. Harrel, perceiving him, 
 smiled with so much good-humour, that he gathered 
 courage to return and address her, and found her, to his 
 infinite delight, as obliging and civil as ever. 
 
 The Concert was now over ; the ladies arose, and the 
 gentlemen joined them. Morrice, at sight of Mr. Harrel, 
 was again shrinking; but Mr. Harrel, immediately shaking 
 hands with him, enquired what had kept him so long from 
 Portman-square ? Morrice then, finding, to his great; 
 surprise, that no one had thought more of the mischief but 
 himself who had committed it, joyously discarded his 
 timidity, and became as sprightly as before his mortification. 
 
 A motion was now made for going to the tea-room ; and 
 as they walked on, Cecilia, in looking up to examine the 
 building, saw in one of the galleries young Delvile, and 
 almost at the same time caught his eye. 
 
 Scarcely now did a moment elapse before he joined her. 
 The sight of him, strongly reviving in her mind the painful 
 contrariety of opinion with which she had lately thought 
 of him, the sentiments so much in his favour which but a 
 few days before she had encouraged, and which it was only 
 that morning she had endeavoured to crush, made her meet 
 him with a kind of melancholy that almost induced her to 
 lament he was amiable, and repine that she knew none 
 like him. 
 
 His appearance, meantime, was far different ; he seemed 
 enchanted at the sight of her, he flew eagerly to meet her, 
 and his eyes sparkled with pleasure as he approached her ; 
 a pleasure neither moderate nor disguised, but lively, un- 
 restrained, and expressive. 
 
 Cecilia, whose plans since she had last seen him had twice 
 varied, who first had looked forward to being united with 
 him for ever, and afterwards had determined to avoid with 
 him even a common acquaintance, could not, while these 
 thoughts were all recurring to her memory, receive much 
 delight from observing his gaiety, or feel at all gratified 
 by his unembarrassed manners. The openness of his atten- 
 tions, and the frankness of his admiration, which hitherto 
 had charmed her as marks of the sincerity of his character, 
 now shocked her as proofs of the indifference of his heart,
 
 CECILIA. 275 
 
 which feeling for her a mere common regard, that affected 
 neither his spirits nor his peace, he manifested without 
 scruple, since it was not accompanied with even a wish 
 beyond the present hour. 
 
 She now, too, recollected that such had always been his 
 conduct, one single and singular moment excepted, when, 
 as he gave to her his letter for Mr. Belfield, he seemed 
 struck, as she was herself, by the extraordinary co-inci- 
 dence of their ideas and proceedings : that emotion, how- 
 ever, she now regarded as casual and transitory, and seeing 
 him so much happier than herself, she felt ashamed of her 
 delusion, and angry at her easy captivation. 
 
 Reflections such as these, though they added fresh motives 
 to her resolution of giving up all thoughts of his alliance, 
 wei'e yet so humiliating, that they robbed her of all power 
 of receiving pleasure from what was passing, and made her 
 forget that the place she was in was even intended for a 
 place of entertainment. 
 
 Young Delvile, after painting in lively colours the loss 
 his house had sustained by her quitting it, and dwelling 
 with equal force upon the regret of his mother and his own, 
 asked in a low voice if she would do him so much honour 
 as to introduce him to Mr. Harrel ; "As the son," added, he 
 " of a brother guardian, I think I have a kind of claim to 
 his acquaintance." 
 
 Cecilia could not refuse, though as the request was likely 
 to occasion more frequent meetings, she persuaded herself 
 she was unwilling to comply. The ceremony therefore past, 
 and was again repeated with Mrs. Harrel, who, though she 
 had several times seen him, had never been formally made 
 known to him. 
 
 The Harrels were both of them much pleased at this 
 mark of civility in a young man whose family had prepared 
 them rather to expect his scorn, and expressed their wishes 
 that he would drink his tea in their party ; he accepted 
 their invitation with alacrity, and turning to Cecilia, said, 
 " Have I not skilfully timed my introduction ? But though 
 you have done me this honour with Mr. and Mrs. Harrel, 
 I must not yet, I presume, entreat you to extend it to a 
 certain happy gentleman of this company," glancing his 
 eyes towards Sir Robert Floyer.
 
 276 CECILIA. 
 
 "Xo, sir," answered she, with quickness, "yet, nor ever! '* 
 
 They were now at the door leading down stairs to the 
 tea-room. Cecilia saw that Sir Robert, who had hitherto 
 l>een engaged with some gentlemen, seemed to be seeking 
 her : and the remembrance of the quarrel which had fol- 
 lowed her refusal of his assistance at the Opera-house, 
 obliged her to determine, should he offer it again, to accept 
 it : but the same brutality which forced this intention, con- 
 tributed to render it repugnant to her, and she resolved if 
 possible to avoid him, by hurrying down stairs before he 
 reached her. She made, therefore, a sudden attempt to 
 slip through the crowd, and as she was light and active, 
 she easily succeeded ; but though her hasty motion sepa- 
 rated her from the rest of her party, Delvile, who was 
 earnestly looking at her, to discover her meaning in the 
 disclaiming speech she made about Sir Robert, saw into 
 her design, but suffered her not to go alone ; he contrived 
 in a moment to follow and join her, while she was stopping 
 at the foot of the stairs for Mrs. Harrel. 
 
 " Why what a little thief you are," cried he, " to run away 
 from us thus ! what do you think Sir Robert will say ? I 
 saw him looking for you at the very instant of your flight." 
 
 "Then you saw at the same time," said Cecilia, "the 
 reason of it." 
 
 "Will you give me leave," cried he, laughing, "to repeat 
 this to my lord Ernolf ? " 
 
 " You may repeat it, sir, if you please," said Cecilia, 
 piqued that he had not rather thought of himself than of 
 Lord Ernolf, "to the whole Pantheon." 
 
 "And if I should, "cried he, " half of it, at least, would thank 
 me ; and to obtain the applause of so noble an assembly, 
 what would it signify that Sir Robert should cut my throat? " 
 
 " I believe," said Cecilia, deeply mortified by a raillery 
 that showed so little interest in her avowal of indifference, 
 "you are determined to make me as sick of that man's 
 name, as I am of his conversation." 
 
 " And is it possible," exclaimed Delvile, in a tone of 
 surprise, " that such can be your opinion, and yet, situated 
 as you are, the whole world at your command, and all 
 
 mankind at your devotion but I am answering yon 
 
 seriously, when you are only speaking by rule."
 
 CECILIA. 277 
 
 " What rule, sir ? " 
 
 " That which young ladies, upon certain occasions, always 
 prescribe themselves." 
 
 Here they were interrupted by the arrival of the rest of 
 the company ; though not before Cecilia had received some 
 little consolation for her displeasure, by finding that young 
 Delvile still supposed she was engaged, and flattering her- 
 self his language would be different were he informed of 
 the contrary. 
 
 Morrice now undertook to procure them a table for tea, 
 which, as the room was very full, was not easily done ; and 
 while they were waiting his success, Miss Larolles, who 
 from the stairs had perceived Cecilia, came running up to 
 her, and taking her hand, called out " Lord, my dear crea- 
 ture, who'd have thought of seeing you here ? I was 
 never so surprised in my life ! I really thought you was 
 gone into a convent, it's so extreme long since I've seen 
 you. Bat, of all things in the world, why was you not at 
 Lady Nyland's last assembly ? I thought of asking Mrs. 
 Harrel fifty times why you did not come, but it always 
 went out of my head. You've no notion how excessively 
 I was disappointed." 
 
 " You are very obliging," said Cecilia, laughing, " but I 
 hope, since you so often forgot it, the disappointment did 
 not much lessen your entertainment." 
 
 " O Lord, no ! I was never so happy in my life. There 
 was such a crowd, you could not move a finger. Every- 
 body in the world was there. You've no idea how delight- 
 ful it was. I thought verily I should have fainted with the 
 heat." 
 
 " That was delightful indeed ! And how long did you 
 stay ? " 
 
 " Why we danced till three in the morning. We began 
 with cotillons, and finished with country dances. It was 
 the most elegant thing you ever saw in your life ; every- 
 thing quite in a style. I was so monstrously fatigued, I 
 could hardly get through the last dance. I really thought 
 I should have dropt down dead. Only conceive dancing 
 five hours in such a monstrous crowd ! I assure you when 
 I got home my feet were all blisters. Yon have no idea 
 how they smarted."
 
 278 CECILIA. 
 
 " And whence comes it," cried young Delvile, " that you 
 partake so little of these delights ? " 
 
 " Because I fear," answered Cecilia, " I came too late 
 into the school of fashion to be a ductile pupil." 
 
 " Do you know," continued Miss Larolles, " Mr. Meadows 
 has not spoke one word to me all the evening ! though I 
 am sure he saw me, for I sat at the outside on purpose to 
 speak to a person or two, that I knew would be strolling 
 about ; for if one sits on the inside, there's no speaking to 
 a creature you know ; so I never do it at the Opera, nor in 
 the boxes at Ranelagh, 1 nor anywhere. It's the shock- 
 ingest thing you can conceive, to be made sit in the middle 
 of those forms ; one might as well be at home, for nobody 
 can speak to one." 
 
 " But you. don't seem to have had much better success," 
 said Cecilia, " in keeping at the outside." 
 
 " yes I have, for I got a little chat with two or three 
 people as they were passing, for, you. know, when one sits 
 there, they can't help saying something ; though I assure 
 you all the men are so excessively odd they don't care 
 whether they speak to one or no. As to Mr. Meadows, 
 he's really enough to provoke one to death. I suppose he's 
 in one of his absent fits. However, I assure you, I think 
 it's extreme impertinent of him, and so I shall tell Mr. 
 Sawyer, for I know he'll make a point of telling him of it 
 again." 
 
 " I rather think," said Cecilia, " the best would be to 
 return the compliment in kind, and when he next recollects 
 you, appear to have forgotten him." 
 
 " Lord, that's a very good notion ! so I will, I declare. 
 But you can't conceive how glad I am the Concert's over ; 
 for I assure you, though I sat as near the fire as possible, I 
 was so extreme cold you've no idea, for Mr. Meadows never 
 would let me have the least peep at it. I declare I believe 
 he does it on purpose to plague one, for he grows worse 
 
 1 " Ranelagh, a place of public entertainment, built between 1740 and 
 1742. The chief amusement was 'promenading' (as it was called) 
 round and round a circular area, and taking refreshments in boxes, 
 while the orchestra executed pieces of music. It was a kind of 
 ' Vauxhall under cover,' warmed by coal fires." CDXNINGHAM'S Hand- 
 book for London.
 
 CECILIA. 279 
 
 and worse every day. You can't think how I liate 
 him !" 
 
 " Not easily I believe indeed ! " said Cecilia, archly. 
 
 " 0, do but look ! " resumed the fair VOLUBLE, " if 
 there is not Mrs. Mears in her old red gown again. I 
 begin to think she'll never have another. I wish she was 
 to have an execution in her house, if it was only to get 
 rid of it ! I am so fatigued with the sight of it you can't 
 conceive." 
 
 Mr. Morrice now brought intelligence that he had 
 secured one side of a table which would very well accom- 
 modate the ladies ; and that the other side was only occu- 
 pied by one gentleman, who, as he was not drinking tea 
 himself, would doubtless give up his place when the party 
 appeared. 
 
 Miss Larolles then ran back to her own set, and the rest 
 followed Mr. Morrice ; Mrs. Harrel, Mrs. Mears and 
 Cecilia took their places. The gentleman opposite to them 
 proved to be Mr. Meadows : Morrice, therefore, was much 
 deceived in his expectations, for, far from giving up his 
 place, he had flung himself all along upon the form in such 
 a lounging posture, while he x'ested one arm upon the table, 
 that, not contented with merely keeping his own seat, he 
 filled up a space meant for three. 
 
 Mr. Harrel had already walked off to another party : 
 Delvile stood aloof for some minutes, expecting Sir Robert 
 Floyer would station himself behind Cecilia ; but Sir 
 Robert, who would scarce have thought such a condescen- 
 sion due to a princess, disdained any appearance of 
 assiduity, even while he made it his care to publish his 
 pretensions : and therefore, finding no accommodation to 
 please him, he stalked towards some gentlemen in another 
 part of the room. Delvile then took the post he had 
 neglected, and Mr. Arnott, who had not had courage to 
 make any effort in his own favour, modestly stood near 
 him. Cecilia contrived to make room for Mr. Grosport 
 next to herself, and Morrice was sufficiently happy in being 
 allowed to call the waiters, superintend the provisions, and 
 serve the whole party. 
 
 The task of making tea fell upon Cecilia, who being 
 somewhat incommoded by the vicinity of her neighbours,
 
 280 CECILIA. 
 
 Mrs. Mears called out to Mr. Meadows, " Do pray, sir, be 
 so good as to make room for one of us at your side." 
 
 Mr. Meadows, who was indolently picking his teeth, and 
 examining them with a tooth-pick-case glass, did not, at 
 first, seem to hear her ; and when she repeated her request, 
 he only looked at her, and said " Umph ? " 
 
 " Now really, Mr. Meadows," said she, " when you see 
 any ladies in such distress, I wonder how you can forbear 
 helping them." 
 
 "In distress, are you?" cried he, with a vacant smile, 
 " pray what's the matter ?" 
 
 " Don't you see ? we are so crowded we can hardly sit." 
 
 "Can't you?" cried he, "upon my honour it's very 
 shameful that these people don't contrive some seats more 
 convenient." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Mears ; " but if you would be so kind 
 as to let somebody else sit by you we should not want any 
 contrivance." 
 
 Here Mr. Meadows was seized with a furious fit of 
 yawning, which as much diverted Cecilia and Mr. Gosport, 
 as it offended Mrs. Mears, who with great displeasure 
 added, " Indeed, Mr. Meadows, it's very strange that you 
 never hear what's said to you." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said he, " were you speaking to 
 me ? " and again began picking his teeth. 
 
 Morrice, eager to contrast his civility with the inatten- 
 tion of Mr. Meadows, now flew round to the other side of 
 the table, and calling out " let me help you, Miss Beverley, 
 I can make tea better than anybody," he leant over that 
 part of the form which Mr. Meadows had occupied with 
 one of his feet, in order to pour it out himself : but 
 Mr. Meadows, by an unfortunate removal of his foot, 
 bringing him forwarder than he was prepared to go, the 
 tea-pot and its contents were overturned immediately 
 opposite to Cecilia. 
 
 Young Delvile, who saw the impending evil, from an 
 impetuous impulse to prevent her suffering by it, hastily 
 drew her back, and bending down before her, secured her 
 preservation by receiving himself the mischief with which 
 she was threatened. 
 
 Mrs. Mears and Mrs. Harrel vacated their seats in a
 
 CECILIA. 281 
 
 moment, and Mr. Gosport and Mr. Arnott assisted in 
 clearing the table, and removing Cecilia, who was very 
 slightly hurt, and at once surprised, ashamed and pleased 
 at the manner in which she had been saved. 
 
 Young Delvile, though a sufferer from his gallantry, the 
 hot water having penetrated through his coat to his arm 
 and shoulder, was at first insensible to his situation, from 
 an apprehension that Cecilia had not wholly escaped : and 
 his enquiries were so eager and so anxious, made with a 
 look of such solicitude, and a voice of such alarm, that, 
 equally astonished and gratified, she secretly blessed the 
 accident which had given birth to his uneasiness, however 
 she grieved for its consequence to himself. 
 
 But no sooner was he satisfied of her safety, than he felt 
 himself obliged to retire ; yet attributing to inconvenience 
 what was really the effect of pain, he hurried away with 
 an appearance of sport, saying, " There is something, I 
 must own, rather unknightly in quitting the field for a wet 
 jacket, but the company, I hope, will only give me credit 
 for flying away to Ranelagh. So 
 
 ' Like a brave general after being beat, 
 
 I'll exult and rejoice in a prudent retreat.' " ' 
 
 He then hastened to his carriage : and poor Morrice, 
 frightened and confounded at the disaster he had occa- 
 sioned, sneaked after him with much less ceremony. While 
 Mr. Meadows, wholly unconcerned by the distress and con- 
 fusion around him, sat quietly picking his teeth, and look- 
 ing on during the whole transaction, with an unmeaning 
 stare, that made it doubtful whether he had even per- 
 ceived it. 
 
 Order being now soon restored, the ladies finished their 
 tea, and went up stairs. Cecilia, to whom the late accident 
 had afforded much new and interesting matter for reflec- 
 tion, wished immediately to have returned home, but she 
 was not the leader of the party, and therefore could not 
 make the proposal. 
 
 They then strolled through all the apartments, and 
 having walked about till the fashionable time of retiring, 
 
 1 Smart. Author'' s note.
 
 282 CECILIA. 
 
 they were joined by Sir Robert Floyer, and proceeded to 
 the little room near the entrance to the great one, in order 
 to wait for their carriages. 
 
 Here Cecilia again met Miss Larolles, who came to make 
 various remarks, and infinite ridicule, upon sundry un- 
 fashionable or uncostly articles in the dresses of the sur- 
 rounding company ; as well as to complain, with no little 
 resentment, that Mr. Meadows was again standing before 
 the fire ! 
 
 Captain Aresby also advanced to tell her he was quite 
 abattu by having so long lost sight of her, to hope she 
 would make a renounce of mortifying the world by discard- 
 ing it, and to protest he had waited for his carriage till 
 he was actually upon the point of being accable. 
 
 In the midst of this jargon, to which the fulness of 
 Cecilia's mind hardly permitted her to listen, there sud- 
 denly appeared at the door of the apartment, Mr. Albany, 
 who, with his usual austerity of countenance, stopt to look 
 round upon the company. 
 
 " Do you see," cried Mr. Gosport to Cecilia, " who ap- 
 proaches ? your poor sycophants will again be taken to task, 
 and I, for one, tremble at the coming storm ! " 
 
 " Lord," cried Miss Larolles, " I wish I was safe in 
 my chair ! that man always frightens me out of my senses. 
 You've no notion what disagreeable things he says to one. 
 I assure you I've no doubt but he's crazy : and I'm always 
 in the shockingest fright in the world for fear he should 
 be taken with a fit while I'm near him." 
 
 " It is really a petrifying thing," said the Captain, "that 
 one can go to no spectacle without the horreur of being 
 obsede by that person ! if he comes this way, I shall cer- 
 tainly make a renounce, and retire." 
 
 "Why so?" said Sir Robert, "what the d 1 do you 
 mind him for ? " 
 
 " 0, he is the greatest bore in nature ! " cried the Cap- 
 tain, " and I always do mon possible to avoid him ; for he 
 breaks out into such barbarous phrases, that I find myself 
 degoute with him in a moment." 
 
 " 0, 1 assure you," said Miss Larolles, " he attacks one 
 sometimes in a manner you've no idea. One day he came 
 up to me all of a sudden, and asked me what good I
 
 CECILIA. 283 
 
 thought I did by dressing so much ? Only conceive how 
 shocking !" 
 
 " 0, I have had the horreur of questions of that sort from 
 him sans fin," said the Captain. " Once he took the liberty 
 to ask me, what service I was of to the world ? and another 
 time, he desired me to inform him whether I had ever made 
 any poor person pray for me ? And, in short, he has so 
 frequently inconvenienced me by his impertinences, that he 
 really bores me to a degree." 
 
 " That's just the thing that makes him hunt you down," 
 said Sir Robert ; " if he were to ask me questions for a 
 month together, I should never trouble myself to move a 
 muscle." 
 
 " The matter of his discourse," said Mr. Gosport, " is not 
 more singular than the manner ; for without any seeming 
 effort or consciousness, he runs into blank verse perpetually. 
 I have made much enquiry about him, but all I am able to 
 learn, is, that he was certainly confined, at one part of his 
 life, in a private mad-house : and though now, from not 
 being mischievous, he is set at liberty, his looks, language, 
 and whole behaviour, announce the former injury of his 
 intellects." 
 
 "OLord," cried Miss Larolles, half screaming, "what 
 shocking notions you put in one's head ! I declare I dare 
 say I sha'n't get safe home for him, for I assure you I be- 
 lieve he's taken a spite to me ! and all because one day, 
 before I knew of his odd ways, I happened to fall a laugh- 
 ing at his going about in that old coat. Do you know it 
 put him quite in a passion ! only conceive how ill-natured ! " 
 
 " 0, he has distressed me," exclaimed the Captain, with 
 a shrug, "partout ! and found so much fault with every 
 thing I have done, that I should really be glad to have the 
 honour to cut, for the moment he comes up to me, I know 
 what I have to expect ! " 
 
 "But I must tell you," cried Miss Larolles, "how mon- 
 strously he put me in a fright one evening when I was 
 talking with Miss Moffat. Do you know, he came up to 
 us, and asked what we were saying ! and because we could 
 not think in a minute of something to answer him, he said 
 he supposed we were only talking some scandal, and so we 
 had better go home, and employ ourselves in working for
 
 284 CECILIA. 
 
 the poor ! Only think how horrid ! and after that, he was 
 so excessive impertinent in his remarks, there was quite no 
 bearing him. I assure you he cut me up so you've no 
 notion." 
 
 Here Mr. Albany advanced ; and everybody but Sir 
 Robert moved out of the way. 
 
 Fixing his eyes upon Cecilia, with an expression 'more in 
 sorrow than in anger, after contemplating her some time in 
 silence, he exclaimed, " Ah, lovely, but perishable flower ! 
 how long will that ingenuous countenance, wearing, be- 
 cause wanting no disguise, look responsive of the whiteness 
 of the region within ? How long will that air of innocence 
 irradiate your whole appearance ? unspoilt by prosperity, 
 unperverted by power ! pure in the midst of surrounding 
 depravity ! unsullied in the tainted air of infectious per- 
 dition!" 
 
 The confusion of Cecilia at this public address, which 
 drew upon her the eyes and attention of all the company, 
 was inexpressible ; she arose from her seat, covered with 
 blushes, and saying, " I fancy the carriage must be ready," 
 pressed forward to quit the room, followed by Sir Robert, 
 who answered, " No, no, they'll call it when it comes up. 
 Arnott, will you go and see where it is ? " 
 
 Cecilia stopt, but whispered Mrs. Harrel to stand near her. 
 
 " And whither," cried Albany, indignantly, " whither 
 wouldst thou go ? Art thou already disdainful of my pre- 
 cepts ? and canst thou not one short moment spare from 
 the tumultuous folly which encircles thee ? Many and 
 many are the hours thou niayst spend with such as these ; 
 the world, alas ! is full of them ; weary not then, so soon, 
 of an old man that would admonish thee, he cannot call 
 upon thee long, for soon he will be called upon himself." 
 
 This solemn exhortation extremely distressed her ; and 
 fearing to still further offend him by making another effort 
 to escape, she answered in a low voice, " I will not only 
 hear, but thank you for your precepts, if you will forbear 
 to give them before so many witnesses." 
 
 " Whence," cried he, sternly, " these vain and superficial 
 distinctions ? Do you not dance in public ? What renders 
 you more conspicuous ? Do you not dress to be admired, 
 and walk to be observed ? Why, then, this fantastical
 
 CECILIA. 285 
 
 ecruple, unjustified by reason, unsupported by analogy ? 
 Is folly only to be published ? Is vanity alone to be ex- 
 hibited ? Oh, slaves of senseless contradiction ! Oh, feeble 
 followers of yet feebler prejudice ! daring to be wicked, yet 
 fearing to be wise ; dauntless in levity, yet shrinking from 
 the name of virtue ! " 
 
 The latter part of this speech, during which he turned 
 with energy to the whole company, raised such a general 
 alarm, that all the ladies hastily quitted the room, and all 
 the gentlemen endeavoured to enter it, equally curious to 
 see the man who made the oration, and the lady to whom 
 it was addressed. Cecilia, therefore, found her situation 
 insupportable ; " I must go," she cried, " whether there is 
 a carriage or not ! Pray, Mrs. Harrel, let us go ! " 
 
 Sir Robert then offered to take her hand, which she was 
 extremely ready to give him ; but, while the crowd made 
 their passage difficult, Albany, following and stopping her,, 
 said, " What is it you fear ? a miserable old man, worn out 
 by the sorrows of that experience from which he offers you 
 counsel ? What, too, is it you trust ? a libertine wretch, 
 coveting nothing but your wealth, for the gift of which he- 
 will repay you by the perversion of your principles ! " 
 
 "What the d 1 do you mean by that?" cried the 
 baronet. 
 
 " To show," answered he, austerely, " the inconsistency 
 of false delicacy ; to show how those who are too timid for 
 truth, can fearless meet licentiousness." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, sir," cried Cecilia, " say no more 
 to me now ! Call upon me in Portman-square when you 
 please, reprove me in whatever you think me blameable, I 
 shall be grateful for your instructions, and bettered, perhaps,, 
 by your care ; but lessons and notice thus public can do me 
 nothing but injury." 
 
 " How happy," cried he, " were no other injury near 
 thee ! spotless were then the hour of thy danger ; bright, 
 fair, and refulgent thy passage to security ! the Good would 
 receive thee with praise, the Guilty would supplicate thy 
 prayers, the Poor would follow thee with blessings, and 
 Children would be taught by thy example! " l 
 
 1 " Friday. I dined with Mrs. Thrale and Dr. Johnson, who was very 
 comic and good-humoured. Susan Thrale had just had her hair turned
 
 286 CECILL&. 
 
 He then quitted her, everybody making way as he moved, 
 and proceeded into the great room. Mrs. Harrel's carriage 
 being also announced at the same time, Cecilia lost not an 
 instant in hastening away. 
 
 Sir Robert, as he conducted her, disdainfully laughed at 
 the adventure, which the general licence allowed to Mr. 
 Albany prevented his resenting, and which therefore he 
 scorned to appear moved at. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel could talk of nothing else, neither was Cecilia 
 disposed to change the subject, for the remains of insanity 
 which seemed to hang upon him were affecting without 
 being alarming, and her desire to know more of him grew 
 every instant stronger. 
 
 This desire, however, outlived not the conversation to 
 which it gave rise ; when she returned to her own room, no 
 vestige of it remained upon her mind, which a nearer con- 
 cern and deeper interest wholly occupied. 
 
 The behaviour of young Delvile had pained, pleased, 
 and disturbed her. His activity to save her from mischief 
 might proceed merely from gallantry or good nature ; upon 
 that, therefore, she dwelt little : but his eagerness, his 
 anxiety, his insensibility to himself, were more than good 
 breeding could claim, and seemed to spring from a motive 
 less artificial. 
 
 She now, therefore, believed that her partiality was re- 
 turned ; and this belief had power to shake all her resolves, 
 and enfeeble all her objections. The arrogance of Mr. 
 
 up, and powdered, and has taken to the womanly robe. Dr. Johnson 
 sportively gave her instructions how to increase her consequence, and to 
 ' take upon her' properly. ' Begin,' said he, ' Miss Susy, with something 
 grand something to surprise mankind! Let your first essay in life be 
 a warm censure of " Cecilia." You can no way make yourself more con- 
 spicuous. Tell the world how ill it was conceived, and how ill executed. 
 Tell them how little there is in it of human nature, and how well your 
 knowledge of the world enables you to judge of the failings in that book. 
 Find fault without fear ; and if you are at a loss for any to find, invent 
 whatever comes into your mind, for yon may say what you please, with 
 little fear of detection, since of those who praise " Cecilia " not half have 
 read it, and of those who have read it, not half remember it. Go to work, 
 therefore, boldly ; and particularly mark that the character of Albany is 
 extremely unnatural, to your own knowledge, since you never met with 
 such a man at Mrs. Cummyn's school.'" Diary of Mdme. D'Arblay, 
 p. 214, vol. ii.
 
 CECILIA. 287 
 
 Delvile lessened in her reflections, the admonitions of Mr. 
 Monckton abated in their influence. With the first she 
 considered that though connected she need not live ; and for 
 the second, though she acknowledged the excellence of his 
 judgment, she concluded him wholly ignorant of her senti- 
 ments of Delvile ; which she imagined, when once revealed, 
 would make every obstacle to the alliance seem trifling, 
 when put in competition with mutual esteem and affection. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A REPROOF. 
 
 THE attention of Cecilia to her own affairs, did not 
 make her forgetful of those of the Harrels : and the 
 morning after the busy day which was last recorded, as 
 soon as she quitted the breakfast- room, she began a note to 
 Mr. Monckton, but was interrupted with information that 
 he was already in the house. 
 
 She went to him immediately, and had the satisfaction 
 of finding him alone : but desirous as she was to relate to 
 him the transactions of the preceding day, there was in his 
 countenance a gravity so unusual, that her impatience was 
 involuntarily checked, and she waited first to hear if he had 
 himself any thing to communicate. 
 
 He kept her not long in suspense ; " Miss Beverley," he 
 said, " I bring you intelligence which, though I know you 
 will be very sorry to hear, it is absolutely necessary should be 
 told you immediately : you may otherwise, from however 
 laudable motives, be drawn into some action which you may 
 repent for life." 
 
 " What now ! " cried Cecilia, much alarmed. 
 
 "All that I suspected," said he, "and more than I hinted 
 to you, is true ; Mr. Harrel is a ruined man ! he is not 
 worth a groat, and he is in debt beyond what he ever pos- 
 sessed." 
 
 Cecilia made no answer : she knew but too fatally the 
 desperate state of his affairs, yet that Ms debts were more 
 than lie liad ever possessed, she had not thought possible.
 
 288 . CECILIA. 
 
 "My enquiries," continued he, "have been among prin- 
 cipals, and such as would not dare deceive me. I hastened, 
 therefore, to you, that this timely notice might enforce the 
 injunctions I gave you when I had the pleasure of seeing 
 you last, and prevent a misjudging generosity from leading 
 you into any injury of your own fortune, for a man who is 
 past all relief from it, and who cannot be saved, even though 
 you were to be destroyed for his sake." 
 
 "You are very good," said Cecilia, " but your counsel is 
 now too late ! " She then briefly acquainted him with what 
 passed, and with how large a sum she had parted. 
 
 He heard her with rage, amazement, and horror: and 
 after inveighing against Mr. Harrel in the bitterest terms, 
 he said, " But why, before you signed your name to so base 
 an imposition, could you not send for me ? " 
 
 "I wished, I meant to have done it," cried she, "but I 
 thought the time past when you could help me. How, 
 indeed, could you have saved me ? my word was given, 
 given with an oath the most solemn, and the first I have 
 ever taken in my life." 
 
 " An oath so forced," answered he, " the most delicate 
 conscience would have absolved you from performing. You 
 have, indeed, been grossly imposed upon ; and pardon me 
 if I add, unaccountably to blame. Was it not obvious that 
 relief so circumstanced must be temporary ? If his ruin 
 had been any thing less than certain, what tradesman would 
 have been so insolent ? You have therefore deprived your- 
 self of the power of doing good to a worthier object, merely 
 to grant a longer date to extravagance and villainy." 
 
 " Yet how," cried Cecilia, deeply touched by this reproof, 
 " how could I do otherwise ? Could I see a man in the 
 agonies of despair, hear him first darkly hint his own de- 
 struction, and afterwards behold him almost in the very 
 act of suicide, the instrument of self-murder in his des- 
 perate hand and yet, though he put his life in my power, 
 though he told me I could preserve him, and told me he 
 had no other reliance or resource, could I leave him to his 
 dreadful despondence, refuse my assisting hand to raise 
 him from perdition, and, to save what, after all, I am well 
 able to spare, suffer a fellow-creature, who flung himself 
 upon my mercy, to offer up his last accounts with an action
 
 CECILIA. 289 
 
 blacker than any which had preceded it ? No, I cannot 
 repent what I have done, though I lament, indeed, that the 
 object was not more deserving." 
 
 "Your representation," said Mr. Monckton, "like every 
 thing else that I ever heard you utter, breathes nothing but 
 benevolence and goodness : but your pity has been abused, 
 and your understanding imposed upon. Mr. Harrel had no 
 intention to destroy himself ; the whole was an infamous 
 trick, which, had not your generosity been too well known, 
 would never have been played." 
 
 " I cannot think quite so ill of him," said Cecilia, " nor 
 for the world would I have risked my own future reproaches 
 by trusting to such a suspicion, which, had it proved wrong, 
 and had Mr. Harrel, upon my refusal, committed the fatal 
 deed, would have made his murder upon my own conscience 
 rest for ever ! Surely the experiment would have been too 
 hazardous, when the consequence had all my future peace 
 in its power." 
 
 " It is impossible not to revere your scruples," said 
 Mr. Monckton, " even while I consider them as causeless ; 
 for causeless they undoubtedly were : the man who could 
 act so atrocious a part, who could so scandalously pillage a 
 young lady who was his guest and his ward, take advan- 
 tage of her temper for the plunder of her fortune, and 
 extort her compliance by the basest and most dishonour- 
 able arts, meant only to terrify her into a compliance ; for 
 he can be nothing less than a downright and thorough 
 scoundrel, capable of every species of mean villainy." 
 
 He then protested he would at least acquaint her other 
 guardians with what had passed, whose business it would 
 be to enquire if there was any chance of redress. 
 
 Cecilia, however, had not much trouble in combating 
 this proposal ; for though her objections, which were 
 merely those of punctilious honour and delicacy, weighed 
 nothing with a man who regarded them as absurdities, yet 
 his own apprehensions of appearing too officious in her 
 affairs, forced him, after a little deliberation, to give up 
 the design. 
 
 " Besides," said Cecilia, " as I have his bond for what I 
 have parted with, I have, at least, no right to complain, 
 unless, after he receives his rents, he refuses to pay me." 
 
 U
 
 290 CKCILIA. 
 
 " His bonds ! his rents ! " exclaimed Mr. Monckton ; 
 " what is a man's bond who is not worth a guinea ? and 
 what are his rents, when all he ever owned must be sold 
 before they are due, and when he will not himself receive 
 a penny from the sale, as he has neither land, house, nor 
 possession of any sort that is not mortgaged ?" 
 
 "Nay, then," said Cecilia, "if so, it is indeed all over ! 
 I am sorry, I am grieved ! but it is past, and nothing, 
 therefore, remains, but that I try to forget I ever was 
 richer!" 
 
 " This is very youthful philosophy," said Mr. Monckton; 
 " but it will not lessen your regret hereafter, when the 
 value of money is better known to you." 
 
 " If I shall dearly buy my experience," said Cecilia, "let 
 me be the more attentive to making good use of it ; and, 
 since my loss seems irremediable to myself, let me at least 
 endeavour to secure its utility to Mr. Harrel." 
 
 She then told him her wish to propose to that gentleman 
 some scheme of reformation, while yesterday's events were 
 yet recent in his mind : but Mr. Monckton, who had 
 hardly patience to hear her, exclaimed, " He is a wretch, 
 and deserves the full force of the disgrace he is courting. 
 What is now most necessary is to guard you from his 
 further machinations, for you may else be involved in ruin 
 as deep as his own. He now knows the way to frighten 
 you, and he will not fail to put it in practice." 
 
 " No, sir," answered Cecilia; "he would vainly apply to 
 me in future : I cannot repent that I ventured not yesterday 
 to brave his menaces ; but too little is the comfort I feel 
 from what I have bestowed, to suffer any consideration to 
 make me part with more." 
 
 " Your resolution," answered he, " will be as feeble as 
 your generosity will be potent : depend nothing upon 
 yourself, but instantly quit his house. You will else be 
 made responsible for every debt that he contracts ; and 
 whatever may be his difficulties hereafter, he will know 
 that to extricate himself from them, he has but to talk of 
 dying, and to show you a sword or a pistol." 
 
 " If so, then," said Cecilia, looking down while she 
 spoke, " I suppose I must again go to Mr. Delvile's." 
 
 This was by no means the purpose of Mr. Monckton,
 
 CECILIA. 291 
 
 who saw not more danger to her fortune with one of her 
 guardians, than to her person with the other. He ven- 
 tured, therefore, to recommend to her a residence with 
 Mr. Briggs, well knowing that his house would be a 
 security against her seeing any man equal to himself, and 
 hoping that under his roof he might again be as unrivalled 
 in her opinion and esteem, as he formerly was in the 
 country. 
 
 But here the opposition of Cecilia was too earnest for 
 any hope that it might be surmounted ; for, added to her 
 dislike of Mr. Briggs, her repugnance to such a habitation 
 was strongly, though silently encreased, by her secret 
 inclination to return to St. James's square. 
 
 " I mention not Mr. Briggs as an eligible host," said 
 Mr. Monckton, after listening to her objections, " but 
 merely as one more proper for you than Mr. Delvile, with 
 whom your fixing at present would be but ill thought of in 
 the world." 
 
 " 111 thought of, sir ? Why so ? " 
 
 " Because he has a son ; for whose sake alone it would 
 be universally concluded you changed your abode : and to 
 give any pretence for such a report, would by no means 
 accord with the usual delicacy of your conduct." 
 
 Cecilia was confounded by this speech : the truth of the 
 charge she felt, and the probability of the censure she did 
 not dare dispute. 
 
 He then gave her a thousand exhortations to beware of 
 the schemes and artifices of Mr. Harrel, which he foresaw 
 would be innumerable. He told her, too, that with respect 
 to Sir Robert Floyer, he thought she had better suffer the 
 report to subside of itself, which in time it must necessarily 
 do, than give to it so much consequence as to send a 
 message to the baronet, from which he might pretend to 
 infer that hitherto she had been wavering, or she would 
 have sent to him sooner. 
 
 But the real motive of this advice was, that as he found 
 Sir Robert by no means to be dreaded, he hoped the report, 
 if generally circulated and credited, might keep off other 
 pretenders, and intimidate or deceive young Delvile. 
 
 The purport for which Cecilia had wished this con- 
 ference was, however, wholly unanswered. Mr. Monckton,
 
 292 CECILIA. 
 
 enraged by the conduct of Mr. Harrel, refused to talk of 
 his affairs, and could only mention him with detestation : 
 but Cecilia, less severe in her judgment, and more tender 
 in her heart, would not yet give up the hope of an amend- 
 ment she so anxiously wished ; and having now no other 
 person to whom she could apply, determined to consult 
 with Mr. Arnott, whose affection for his sister would give 
 him a zeal in the affair that might somewhat supply the 
 place of superior abilities. 
 
 There was, indeed, no time to be lost in making the pro- 
 jected attempt ; for no sooner was the immediate danger 
 of suffering removed, than the alarm wore away, and the 
 penitence was forgotten ; everything went on as usual, no 
 new regulations were made, no expenses abated, no plea- 
 sures forborn, not a thought of hereafter admitted : and 
 ruinous and terrible as had been the preceding storm, no 
 trace of it was visible in the serenity of the present calm. 
 
 An occasion of discussion with Mr. Arnott very speedily 
 offered. Mr. Harrel said he had observed in the looks of 
 his friends at the Pantheon much surprise at the sight of 
 him, and declared he should take yet another measure for 
 removing all suspicion. This was to give a splendid enter- 
 tainment at his own house to all his acquaintance, to which 
 he meant to invite everybody of any consequence he had 
 ever seen, and almost everybody he had ever heard of in 
 his life. 
 
 Levity so unfeeling, and a spirit of extravagance so irre- 
 claimable, were hopeless prognostics ; yet Cecilia would 
 not desist from her design. She therefore took the earliest 
 opportunity of speaking with Mr. Arnott upon the subject, 
 when she openly expressed her uneasiness at the state of 
 his brother's affairs, and warmly acknowledged her dis- 
 pleasure at his dissipated way of life. 
 
 Mr. Arnott soon showed that example was all he wanted 
 to declare the same sentiments. He owned he had long 
 disapproved the conduct of Mr. Harrel, and trembled at 
 the situation of his sister. They then considered what it 
 was possible to propose that might retrieve their affairs, 
 and concluded that entirely to quit London for some years, 
 was the only chance that remained of saving them from 
 absolute destruction.
 
 CECILIA.. 293 
 
 Mr. Arnott, therefore, though fearfully, and averse to 
 the task, told his sister their mutual advice. She thanked 
 him, said she was much obliged to him, and would cer- 
 tainly consider his proposal, and mention it to Mr. Harrel. 
 Parties of pleasure, however, intervened, and the promise 
 was neglected. 
 
 Cecilia then again spoke herself. Mrs. Harrel, much 
 softened by her late acts of kindness, was no longer 
 offended by her interference, but contented herself with 
 confessing that she quite hated the country, and could only 
 bear to live -in it in summer time. And when Cecilia very 
 earnestly expostulated on the weakness of such an objection 
 to a step absolutely necessary for her future safety and 
 happiness, she said, she could do no worse than that if already 
 ruined, and therefore that she thought it would be very hard 
 to expect from her such a sacrifice beforehand. 
 
 It was in vain Cecilia remonstrated : Mrs. Harrel's love 
 of pleasure was stronger than her understanding ; and 
 therefore, though she listened to her with patience, she 
 concluded with the same answer she had begun. 
 
 Cecilia then, though almost heartless, resolved upon 
 talking with Mr. Harrel himself : and therefore, taking an 
 opportunity which he had not time to elude, she ingenuously 
 told him her opinion of his danger, and of the manner in 
 which it might be avoided. 
 
 He paid unusual attention to her advice, but said she 
 was much mistaken with respect to his affairs, which he 
 believed he should now very speedily retrieve, as he had 
 had the preceding night an uncommon run of luck, and 
 nattered himself with being able very shortly to pay all 
 his debts, and begin the world again upon a new score. 
 
 This open confession of gaming was but a new shock to 
 Cecilia, who scrupled not to represent to him the uncer- 
 tainty of so hazardous a reliance, and the inevitable evils of 
 so destructive a practice. 
 
 She made not, however, the least impression upon his 
 mind ; he assured her he doubted not giving her shortly a 
 good account of himself, and that living in the country 
 was a resource of desperation which need not be antici- 
 pated. 
 
 Cecilia, though grieved and provoked by their mutual
 
 294 CECILIA. 
 
 folly and blindness, could proceed no further : advice and 
 admonition she spared not, but authority she had none to 
 use. She regretted her ineffectual attempt to Mr. Arnott, 
 who was yet more cruelly afflicted at it ; but though they 
 conversed upon the subject by every opportunity, they were 
 equally unable to relate any success from their efforts, or to 
 devise any plan more likely to ensure it. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A MISTAKE. 
 
 TV/T E ANTIME young Delvile failed not to honour Cecilia's 
 I-'-*- introduction of him to Mr. Harrel, by waiting upon 
 that gentleman as soon as the ill effects of his accident at 
 the Pantheon permitted him to leave his own house. Mr. 
 Harrel, though just going out when he called, was desirous 
 of being upon good terms with his family, and therefore 
 took him up stairs to present him to his lady, and invited 
 him to tea and cards the next evening. 
 
 Cecilia, who was with Mrs. Harrel, did not see him with- 
 out emotion ; which was not much lessened by the task of 
 thanking him for his assistance at the Pantheon, and en- 
 quiring how he had himself fared. No sign, however, of 
 emotion appeared in return, either when he first addressed, 
 or afterwards answered her : the look of solicitude with 
 which she had been so much struck when they last parted 
 was no longer discernible, and the voice of sensibility which 
 had removed all her doubts, was no longer to be heard. 
 His general ease and natural gaiety were again unruffled ; 
 and though he had never seemed really indifferent to her, 
 there was not the least appearance of any added partiality. 
 
 Cecilia felt an involuntary mortification as she observed 
 this change : yet, upon reflection, she still attributed his 
 whole behaviour to his mistake with respect to her situation, 
 and therefore was but the more gratified by the preference 
 he occasionally betrayed. 
 
 The invitation for the next evening was accepted ; and 
 Cecilia, for once, felt no repugnance to joining the company.
 
 CECILIA. 295 
 
 Young Delvile again was in excellent spirits ; but though 
 his chief pleasure was evidently derived from conversing 
 with her, she had the vexation to observe that he seemed to 
 think her the undoubted property of the baronet, always 
 retreating when he approached, and as careful, when next 
 her, to yield his place if he advanced, as, when he was 
 distant, to guard it from all others. 
 
 But when Sir Robert was employed at cards, all scruples 
 ceasing, he neglected not to engross her almost wholly. He 
 was eager to speak to her of the affairs of Mr. Belfield, 
 which he told her wore now a better aspect. The letter, 
 indeed, of recommendation which he had shown to her, had 
 failed, as the nobleman to whom it was written had already 
 entered into an engagement for his son ; but he had made 
 application elsewhere, which he believed would be success- 
 ful ; and he had communicated his proceedings to Mr. 
 Belfield, whose spirits, he hoped, would recover by this pros- 
 pect of employment and advantage. " It is, however, but 
 too true," he added, "that I have rather obtained his con- 
 sent to the steps I am taking, than his approbation of them : 
 nor do I believe, had I previously consulted him, I should have 
 had even that. Disappointed in his higher views, his spirit 
 is broken, and he is heartless and hopeless, scarce con- 
 descending to accept relief, from the bitter remembrance 
 that he expected preferment. Time, however, will blunt 
 this acute sensibility, and reflection will make him blush at 
 this unreasonable delicacy. But we must patiently sooth 
 him till he is more himself ; or, while we mean to serve, we 
 shall only torment him. Sickness, sorrow, and poverty 
 have all fallen heavily upon him, and they have all fallen 
 at once : we must not, therefore, wonder to find him in- 
 tractable, when his mind is as much depressed, as his body 
 is enervated." 
 
 Cecilia, to whom his candour and generosity always gave 
 fresh delight, strengthened his opinions by her concurrence, 
 and confirmed his designs by the interest which she took 
 in them. 
 
 From this time, he found almost daily some occasion for 
 calling in Portman-square. The application of Cecilia in 
 favour of Mr. Belfield, gave him a right to communicate 
 to her all his proceedings concerning him; and he had
 
 296 CECILIA. 
 
 some letter to show, some new scheme to propose, some 
 refusal to lament, or some hope to rejoice over, almost per- 
 petually: or even when these failed, Cecilia had a cold, 
 which he came to enquire after, or Mrs. Harrel gave him 
 an invitation, which rendered any excuse unnecessary. But 
 though his intimacy with Cecilia was encreased, though 
 his admiration of her was conspicuous, and his fondness 
 for her society seemed to grow with the enjoyment of it, he 
 yet never manifested any doubt of her engagement with the 
 baronet, nor betrayed either intention or desire to supplant 
 him. Cecilia, however, repined not much at the mistake, 
 since she thought it might be instrumental to procuring 
 her a more impartial acquaintance with his character, than 
 she could rationally expect, if, as she hoped, the explana- 
 tion of his error should make him seek her good opinion 
 with more study and design. 
 
 To satisfy herself not only concerning the brother but 
 the sister, she again visited Miss Belfield, and had the 
 pleasure of finding her in better spirits, and hearing that 
 the noble friend of her brother, whom she had already men- 
 tioned, and whom Cecilia had before suspected to be young 
 Delvile, had now pointed out to him a method of conduct 
 by which his affairs might be decently retrieved, and him- 
 self creditably employed. Miss Belfield spoke of the plan 
 with the highest satisfaction ; yet she acknowledged that 
 her mother was extremely discontented with it, and that 
 her brother himself was rather led by shame than inclination 
 to its adoption. Yet he was evidently easier in his mind, 
 though far from happy, and already so much better, that 
 Mr. Rupil said he would very soon be able to leave his 
 room. 
 
 Such was the quiet and contented situation of Cecilia, 
 when one evening, which was destined for company at home, 
 while she was alone in the drawing-room, which Mrs. 
 Harrel had just left to answer a note, Sir Robert Floyer 
 accidentally came up stairs before the other gentlemen. 
 
 " Ha ! " cried he, the moment he saw her, " at last have 
 I the good fortune to meet with you alone ! This, indeed, 
 is a favour I thought I was always to be denied." 
 
 He was then approaching her ; but Cecilia, who shrunk 
 involuntary at the sight of him, was retreating hastily to
 
 CECILIA. 297 
 
 quit the room, when suddenly recollecting that no better 
 opportunity might ever offer for a final explanation with 
 him, she irresolutely stopt ; and Sir Robert, immediately 
 following, took her hand, and pressing it to his lips as she 
 endeavoured to withdraw it, exclaimed, " You are a most 
 charming creatiire ! " when the door was opened, and 
 young Del vile at the same moment was announced and 
 appeared. 
 
 Cecilia, colouring violently, and extremely chagrined, 
 hastily disengaged herself from his hold. Delvile seemed 
 uncertain whether he ought not to retire, which Sir Robert 
 perceiving, bowed to him with an air of mingled triumph 
 and vexation, and said, " Sir, your most obedient ! " 
 
 The doubt, however, in which everyone appeared of 
 what was next to be done, was immediately removed by 
 the return of Mrs. Harrel, and the arrival at almost the 
 same moment of more company. 
 
 The rest of the evening was spent, on the part of Cecilia, 
 most painfully : the explanation she had planned had ended 
 in worse than nothing, for by suffering the baronet to 
 detain her, she had rather shown a disposition to oblige, 
 than any intention to discard him ; and the situation in 
 which she had been surprised by young Delvile, was the 
 last to clear the suspicions she so little wished him to har- 
 bour : while, on his part, the accident seemed to occasion 
 no other alteration than that of rendering him more than 
 usually assiduous to give way to Sir Robert whenever he 
 approached her. 
 
 Nor was Sir Robert slack in taking advantage of this 
 attention : he was highly in spirits, talked to her with 
 more than common freedom, and wore the whole evening 
 an air of exulting satisfaction. 
 
 Cecilia, provoked by this presumption, hurt by the beha- 
 viour of young Delvile, and mortified by the whole affair, 
 determined to leave this mistake no longer in the power of 
 accident, but to apply immediately to Mr. Delvile senior, 
 and desire him, as her guardian, to wait upon Sir Robert 
 himself, and acquaint him that his perseverance in pursuing 
 her was both useless and offensive : and by this method she 
 hoped at once to disentangle herself for ever from the 
 baronet, and to discover more fully the sentiments of young
 
 298 CECILIA. 
 
 Delvile : for the provocation she had just endured, 
 robbed her of all patience for waiting the advice of Mr. 
 Monckton. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 AN EXPLANATION. 
 
 THE following morning, therefore, Cecilia went early 
 to St. James's-square : and, after the usual cere- 
 monies of messages and long waiting, she was shown into 
 an apartment where she found Mr. Delvile and his son. 
 
 She rejoiced to see them together, and determined to 
 make known to them both the purport of her visit : and 
 therefore, after some apologies, and a little hesitation, she 
 told Mr. Delvile, that encouraged by his offers of serving 
 her, she had taken the liberty to call upon him with a view 
 to entreat his assistance. 
 
 Young Delvile, immediately arising, would have quitted 
 the room ; but Cecilia, assuring him she rather desired 
 what she had to say should be known than kept secret, 
 begged that he would not disturb himself. 
 
 Delvile, pleased with this permission to hear her, and 
 curious to know what would follow, very readily returned 
 to his seat. 
 
 " I should by no means," she continued, " have thought 
 of proclaiming even to the most intimate of my friends, the 
 partiality which Sir Robert Floyer has been pleased to 
 show me, had he left to me the choice of publishing or con- 
 cealing it : but, on the contrary, his own behaviour seems 
 intended not merely to display it, but to insinuate that it 
 meets with my approbation. Mr. Harrel, also, urged by 
 too much warmth of friendship, has encouraged this belief ; 
 nor, indeed, do I know at present where the mistake stops, 
 nor what it is report has not scrupled to affirm. But I think 
 I ought no longer to neglect it, and therefore I have pre- 
 sumed to solicit your advice in what manner I may most 
 effectually contradict it." 
 
 The extreme surprise of young Delvile at this speech was 
 not more evident than pleasant to Cecilia, to whom it
 
 CECILIA. 299 
 
 accounted for all that had perplext her in his conduct, 
 while it animated every expectation she wished to en- 
 courage. 
 
 " The behaviour of Mr. Harrel," answered Mr. Delvile, 
 " has by no means been such as to lead me to forget that 
 his father was the son of a steward of Mr. Grant, who lived 
 in the neighbourhood of my friend and relation the Duke 
 of Derwent : nor can I sufficiently congratulate .myself 
 that I have always declined acting with him. The late 
 Dean, indeed, never committed so strange an impropriety 
 as that of nominating Mr. Harrel and Mr. Briggs coadjutors 
 with Mr. Delvile. The impropriety, however, though ex- 
 tremely offensive to me, has never obliterated from my 
 mind the esteem I bore the Dean : nor can I possibly give 
 a greater proof of it than the readiness I have always shown 
 to offer my counsel and instruction to his niece. Mr. Harrel, 
 therefore, ought certainly to have desired Sir Robert Floyer 
 to acquaint me with his proposals before he gave to him any 
 answer." 
 
 " Undoubtedly, sir," said Cecilia, willing to shorten this 
 parading harangue, " but as he neglected that attention, 
 will you think me too impertinent should I entreat the 
 favour of you to speak with Sir Robert yourself, and ex- 
 plain to him the total inefficacy of his pursuit, since my 
 determination against him is unalterable ? " 
 
 Here the conference was interrupted by the entrance of 
 a servant who said something to Mr. Delvile, which occa- 
 sioned his apologizing to Cecilia for leaving her for a few 
 moments, and ostentatiously assuring her that no business, 
 however important, should prevent his thinking of her 
 affairs, or detain him from returning to her as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 The astonishment of young Delvile at the strength of 
 her last expression kept him silent for some time after his 
 father left the room : and then, with a countenance that 
 still marked his amazement, he said, " Is it possible, Miss 
 Beverley, that I should twice have been thus egregiously 
 deceived ; or rather, that the whole town, and even the 
 most intimate of your friends, should so unaccountably 
 have persisted in a mistake ? " 
 
 "For the town," answered Cecilia, " I know not how it
 
 300 CECILIA. 
 
 can have had any concern in so small a matter ; but for 
 my intimate friends, I have too few to make it probable 
 they should ever have been so strangely misinformed." 
 
 " Pardon me," cried he, "it was from one who ought to 
 know, that I had myself the intelligence." 
 
 " I entreat you, then," said Cecilia, "to acquaint me who 
 it was ? " 
 
 " Mr. Harrel himself ; who communicated it to a lady in 
 my hearing, and at a public place." 
 
 Cecilia cast up her eyes in wonder and indignation at a 
 proof so incontrovertible of his falsehood, but made not any 
 answer. 
 
 " Even yet," continued he, " I can scarcely feel un- 
 deceived : your engagement seemed so positive, your con- 
 nexion so irretrievable, so, so fixed, I mean. " He 
 hesitated, a little embarrassed ; but then suddenly exclaimed^ 
 " Yet whence, if to neither favourable, if indifferent alike 
 to Sir Robert and to Belfield, whence that animated appre- 
 hension for their safety at the Opera-house ? whence that 
 never to be forgotten, Oh stop him! good God ! will nobody 
 stop him ? Words of anxiety so tender ! and sounds that 
 still vibrate in my ear ! " 
 
 Cecilia, struck with amazement in her turn at the strength 
 of his own expressions, blushed, and for a few minutes 
 hesitated how to answer him : but then, to leave nothing 
 that related to so disagreeable a report in any doubt, she 
 resolved to tell him ingenuously the circumstances that 
 had occasioned her alarm : and therefore, though with some 
 pain to her modesty, she confessed her fears that she had 
 herself provoked the affront, though her only view had been 
 to discountenance Sir Robert, without meaning to show 
 any distinction to Mr. Belfield. 
 
 Delvile, who seemed charmed with the candour of this 
 explanation, said, when she had finished it, " You are then 
 at liberty ? Ah, madam ! how many may rue so dan- 
 gerous a discovery ! " 
 
 " Could you think," said Cecilia, endeavouring to speak 
 with her usual ease, " that Sir Robert Floyer would be 
 found so irresistible ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! " cried he, "far otherwise ; a thousand times 
 I have wondered at his happiness ; a thousand times, when
 
 CECILIA. 301 
 
 I have looted at you, and listened to you, I have thought 
 it impossible ! yet my authority seemed indisputable. And 
 how was I to discredit what was not uttered as a conjecture, 
 but asserted as a fact ? asserted, too, by the guardian with 
 whom you lived ? and not hinted as a secret, but affirmed 
 as a point settled ? " 
 
 "Yet, surely," said Cecilia, "you have heard me make 
 use of expressions that could not but lead you to suppose 
 there was some mistake, whatever might be the authority 
 which had won your belief." 
 
 " No," answered he, " I never supposed any mistake, 
 though sometimes I thought you repented your engage- 
 ment. I concluded, indeed, you had been unwarily drawn 
 in, and I have even, at times, been tempted to acknowledge 
 my suspicions to you, state your independence, and exhort 
 
 you as a, friend, exhort you to use it with spirit, and, if 
 
 you were shackled unwillingly, incautiously, or unworthily, 
 to break the chains by which you were confined, and restore 
 to yourself that freedom of choice, upon the use of which 
 all your happiness must ultimately depend. But I doubted 
 if this were honourable to the baronet, and what, indeed, 
 was my right to such a liberty ? none that every man might 
 not be proud of, a wish to do honour to myself, under 
 the officious pretence of serving the most amiable of 
 women." 
 
 " Mr. Harrel," said Cecilia, " has been so strangely 
 biggotted to his friend, that in his eagerness to manifest 
 his regard for him, he seems to have forgotten every other 
 consideration ; he would not, else, have spread so widely a 
 report that could so ill stand enquiry." 
 
 " If Sir Robert," returned he, " is himself deceived while 
 he deceives others, who can forbear to pity him ? for my 
 own part, instead of repining that hitherto I have been mis- 
 taken, ought I not rather to bless an error that may have 
 been my preservative from danger ? " 
 
 Cecilia, distressed in what manner to support her part 
 in the conversation, began now to wish the return of Mr. 
 Delvile ; and, not knowing what else to say, she expressed 
 her surprise at his long absence. 
 
 " It is not, indeed, well timed," said young Delvile, "just 
 now, at the moment when " he stopt, and presently ex-
 
 302 CECILIA. 
 
 claiming " Oh dangerous interval ! " he arose from his 
 seat in manifest disorder. 
 
 Cecilia arose too, and hastily ringing the bell, said, " Mr. 
 Delvile I am sure is detained, and therefore I will order 
 my chair, and call another time." 
 
 " Do I frighten you away ? " said he, assuming an ap- 
 pearance more placid. 
 
 " No," answered she, " but I would not hasten Mr. 
 Delvile." 
 
 A servant then came, and said the chair was ready. 
 
 She would immediately have followed him, but young 
 Delvile again speaking, she stopt a moment to hear him. 
 "I fear," said he, with much hesitation, u I have strangely 
 
 exposed myself and that you cannot but the extreme 
 
 astonishment " he stopt again, in the utmost confusion, 
 and then adding, " you will permit me to attend you to 
 the chair," he handed her down stairs, and in quitting her, 
 bowed without saying a word more. 
 
 Cecilia, who was almost wholly indifferent to every part 
 of the explanation but that which had actually passed, was 
 now in a state of felicity more delightful than any she had 
 ever experienced. She had not a doubt remaining of her 
 influence over the mind of young Delvile, and the surprise 
 which had made him rather betray than express his regard, 
 was infinitely more flattering and satisfactory to her than 
 any formal or direct declaration. She had now convinced 
 him she was disengaged, and in return, though without 
 seeming to intend it, he had convinced her of the deep 
 intei'est which he took in the discovery. His perturbation, 
 the words which escaped him, and his evident struggle to 
 say no more, were proofs just such as she wished to re- 
 ceive of his partial admiration, since, while they satisfied 
 her heart, they also soothed her pride, by showing a diffi- 
 dence of success which assured her that her own secret was 
 still sacred, and that no weakness or inadvertency on her 
 part had robbed her of the power of mingling dignity 
 with the frankness with which she meant to receive his 
 addresses. All, therefore, that now employed her care, 
 was to keep off any indissoluble engagement till each should 
 be better known to the other. 
 
 For this reserve, however, she had less immediate occa-
 
 CECILIA. 303 
 
 sion than she expected ; she saw no more of young Delvile 
 that day ; neither did he appear the next. The third she 
 fully expected him, but still he came not. And while she 
 wondered at an absence so uncommon, she received a note 
 from Lord Ernolf, to beg permission to wait upon her for 
 two minutes, at any time she would appoint. 
 
 She readily sent word that she should be at home for 
 the rest of the day, as she wished much for an opportunity 
 of immediately finishing every affair but one, and setting 
 her mind at liberty to think only of that which she desired 
 should prosper. 
 
 Lord Ernolf was with her in half an hour. She found 
 him sensible and well bred, extremely desirous to promote 
 her alliance with his son, and apparently as much pleased 
 with herself as with her fortune. He acquainted her that 
 he had addressed himself to Mr. Harrel long since, but had 
 been informed that she was actually engaged to Sir Robert 
 Floyer : he should, therefore, have forborn taking up 
 any part of her time, had he not, the preceding day, while 
 on a visit at Mr. Delvile's, been assured that Mr. Harrel 
 was mistaken, and that she had not yet declared for any- 
 body. He hoped, therefore, that she would allow his son 
 the honour of waiting upon her, and permit him to talk 
 with Mr. Briggs, who, he understood, was her acting 
 guardian, upon such matters as ought to be speedily ad- 
 justed. 
 
 Cecilia thanked him for the honour he intended her, and 
 confirmed the truth of the account he had heard in St. 
 James's-square, but at the same time told him she must 
 decline receiving any visits from his lordship's son, and 
 entreated him to take no measure towards the promotion of 
 an affair which never could succeed. 
 
 He seemed much concerned at her answer, and endea- 
 voured for some time to soften her, but found her so steady, 
 though civil, in her refusal, that he was obliged, however 
 unwillingly, to give up his attempt. 
 
 Cecilia, when he was gone, reflected with much vexation 
 on the readiness of the Delviles to encourage his visit ; she 
 considered, however, that the intelligence he had heard 
 might possibly be gathered in general conversation ; but 
 she blamed herself that she had not led to some enquiry
 
 304 CECILIA. 
 
 what part of the family he had seen, and who was present 
 when the information was given him. 
 
 Meanwhile she found that neither coldness, distance, 
 nor aversion were sufficient to repress Sir Robert Floyer, 
 who continued to persecute her with as much confidence 
 of success as could have arisen from the utmost encourage- 
 ment. She again, though with much difficulty, contrived to 
 speak with Mr. Harrel upon the subject, and openly accused 
 him of spreading a report abroad, as well as countenancing 
 an expectation at home, that had neither truth nor justice 
 to support them. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, with his usual levity and carelessness, laughed 
 at the charge, but denied any belief in her displeasure, and 
 affected to think she was merely playing the coquette, while 
 Sir Robei't was not the less her decided choice. 
 
 Provoked and wearied, Cecilia resolved no longer to 
 depend upon any body but herself for the management of 
 her own affairs, and therefore, to conclude the business 
 without any possibility of further cavilling, she wrote the 
 following note to Sir Robert herself. 
 
 To Sir ROBERT FLOYER, Bart. 
 
 Miss BEVERLEY presents her compliments to Sir Robert 
 Floyer, and as she has some reason to fear Mr. Harrel did 
 not explicitly acquaint him with her answer to the com- 
 mission with which he was entrusted, she thinks it neces- 
 sary, in order to obviate any possible misunderstanding, to 
 take this method of returning him thanks for the honour 
 of his good opinion, but of begging at the same time that 
 he would not lose a moment upon her account, as her thanks 
 are all she can now, or ever, offer in return. 
 
 Portman-Sqiiare, 
 
 May llth, 1779. 
 
 To this note Cecilia received no answer : but she had the 
 pleasure to observe that Sir Robert forbore his usual visit 
 on the day she sent it, and, though he appeared again the 
 day following, he never spoke to her, and seemed sullen 
 and out of humour. 
 
 Yet still young Delvile came not, and still, as her sur- 
 prise encreased, her tranquillity was diminished. She could 
 form no excuse for his delay, nor conjecture any reason for
 
 CECILIA. 305 
 
 his absence. Every motive seemed to favour his seeking, 
 and not one his shunning her : the explanation which had 
 so lately passed had informed him he had no rival to fear, 
 and the manner in which he had heard it assured her the 
 information was not indifferent to him; why, then, so 
 assiduous in his visits when he thought her engaged, and 
 so slack in all attendance when he knew she was at liberty ? 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A MURMURING. 
 
 T TNABLE to relieve herself from this perplexity, Cecilia, 
 *-' to divert her chagrin, again visited Miss Belfield. 
 She had then the pleasure to hear that her brother was 
 much recovered, and had been able, the preceding day, to 
 take an airing, which he had borne so well that Mr. Rupil 
 had charged him to use the same exercise every morning. 
 
 " And will he ? " said Cecilia. 
 
 " No, madam, I am sadly afraid not," she answered, 
 " for coach- hire is very expensive, and we are willing, now, 
 to save all we can in order to help fitting him out for going 
 abroad." 
 
 Cecilia then earnestly entreated her to accept some assis- 
 tance ; but she assured her she did not dare without the con- 
 sent of her mother, which, however, she undertook to obtain. 
 
 The next day, when Cecilia called to hear her success, 
 Mrs. Belfield, who hitherto had kept out of sight, made her 
 appearance. She found her, alike in person, manners and 
 conversation, a coarse and ordinary woman, not more un- 
 like her son in talents and acquired accomplishments than 
 dissimilar to her daughter in softness and natural delicacy. 
 
 The moment Cecilia was seated, she began, without 
 waiting for any ceremony, or requiring any solicitation, 
 abruptly to talk of her affairs, and repiningly to relate her 
 misfortunes. 
 
 " I find, madam," she said, " you have been so kind as 
 to visit my daughter Henny a great many times, but as I 
 have no time for company, I have always kept out of the 
 way, having other things to do than sit still to talk. I 
 
 X
 
 806 CECILIA. 
 
 have had a sad time of it here, ma'am, with my poor son's 
 illness, having no conveniences about me, and much ado 
 to make him mind me ; for he's all for having his oven 
 way, poor dear soul ; and I'm sure I don't know who 
 could contradict him, for it's what I never had the heart 
 to do. But then, ma'am, what is to come of it ? You 
 see how bad things go ! for though I have got a very good 
 income, it won't do for every thing. And if it was as much 
 again, I should want to save it all now. For here my poor 
 son, you see, is reduced all in a minute, as one may say, from 
 being one of the first gentlemen in the town, to a mere 
 poor object, without a farthing in the world ! " 
 
 "He is, however, I hope, now much better in his health? " 
 said Cecilia. 
 
 " Yes, madam, thank heaven, for if he was worse, those 
 might tell of it that would, for I'm sure I should never 
 live to hear of it. He has been the best son in the world, 
 madam, and used nothing but the best company, for I 
 spared neither pains nor cost to bring him up genteelly, 
 and I believe there's not a nobleman in the land that looks 
 more the gentleman. However, there's come no good of 
 it, for though his acquaintances was all among the first 
 quality, he never received the value of a penny from the 
 best of them. So I have no great need to be proud. But 
 I meant for the best, though I have often enough wished 
 I had not meddled in the matter, but left him to be brought 
 up in the shop, as his father was before him." 
 
 "His present plan, however," said Cecilia, "will I hope 
 make you ample amends both for your sufferings and your 
 tenderness." 
 
 " What, madam, when he's going to leave me, and settle 
 in foreign parts ? If you was a mother yourself, madam, 
 you would not think that such good amends." 
 
 " Settle ? " said Cecilia, " No, he only goes for a year 
 or two." 
 
 " That's more than I can say, madam, or any body else ; 
 and nobody knows what may happen in that time. And 
 how I shall keep myself up when he's beyond seas, I am sure 
 I don't know, for he has always been the pride of my life, 
 and every penny I saved for him, I thought to have been 
 paid in pounds."
 
 CECILIA. 307 
 
 "You will still have your daughter, and she seems so 
 amiable, that I am sure you can want no consolation she 
 will not endeavour to give you." 
 
 " But what is a daughter, madam, to such a son as mine ? 
 a son that I thought to have seen living like a prince, and 
 sending his own coach for me to dine with him ! And now 
 he's going to be taken away from me, and nobody knows 
 if I shall live till he comes back. But I may thank my- 
 self, for if I had but been content to see him brought up in 
 
 the shop yet all the world would have cried shame 
 
 upon it, for when he was quite a child in arms, the people 
 used all to say he was born to be a gentleman, and would 
 live to make many a fine lady's heart ache." 
 
 " If he can but make your heart easy," said Cecilia, 
 smiling, " we will not grieve that the fine ladies should 
 escape the prophecy." 
 
 " 0, ma'am, I doa't mean by that to say he has been 
 over gay among the ladies, for it's a thing I never heard 
 of him ; and I dare say if any lady was to take a fancy to 
 him, she'd find there was not a modester young man in the 
 world. But you must needs think what a hardship it is 
 to me to have him turn out so unlucky, after all I have 
 done for him, when I thought to have seen him at the top 
 of the tree, as one may say ! " 
 
 " He will yet, I hope," said Cecilia, " make you rejoice 
 in all your kindness to him : his health is already returning, 
 and his affairs wear again a more prosperous aspect." 
 
 " But do you suppose, ma'am, that having him sent two 
 or three hundred miles away from me, with some young 
 master to take care of, is the way to make up to me what 
 I have gone through for him ? why I used to deny myself 
 everything in the world, in order to save money to buy him 
 smart clothes, and let him go to the Opera, and Ranelagh, 
 and such sort of places, that he might keep himself in 
 fortune's way ! and now you see the end of it ! here he is, 
 in a little shabby room up two pair of stairs, with not 
 one of the great folks coming near him, to see if he's so 
 much as dead or alive." 
 
 "I do not wonder," said Cecilia, "that you resent their 
 showing so little gratitude for the pleasure and entertain- 
 ment they have formerly received from him : but comfort
 
 308 CECILIA. 
 
 yourself that it will at least secure you from any similar 
 disappointment, as Mr. Belfield will, in future, be guarded 
 from forming such precarious expectations." 
 
 " But what good will that do me, ma'am, for all the 
 money he has been throwing after them all this while ? do 
 you think I would have scraped it up for him, and gone 
 without everything in the world, to see it all end in this 
 manner ? why he might as well have been brought up the 
 commonest journeyman, for any comfort I shall have of 
 him at this rate. And suppose he should be drowned in 
 going beyond seas, what am I to do then ? " 
 
 "You must not," said Cecilia, "indulge such fears; I 
 doubt not but your son will return well, and return all that 
 you wish." 
 
 " Nobody knows that, ma'am ; and the only way to be 
 certain is for him not to go at all; and I'm surprised, 
 ma'am, you can wish him to make such a journey to nobody 
 knows where, with nothing but a young master that he 
 must as good as teach his A. B. C. all the way they go ! " 
 
 " Certainly," said Cecilia, amazed at this accusation, " I 
 should not wish him to go abroad, if any thing more 
 eligible could be done by his remaining in England : but 
 as no prospect of that sort seems before him, you must 
 endeavour to reconcile yourself to parting with him." 
 
 " Yes, but how am I to do that, when I don't know if 
 ever I shall see him again ? Who could have thought of 
 his living so among the great folks, and then coming to 
 want ! I'm sure I thought they'd have provided for him 
 like a son of their own, for he used to go about to all the 
 public places just as they did themselves. Day after day 
 I used to be counting for when he would come to tell me 
 he'd got a place at court, or something of that sort, for I 
 never could tell what it would be : and then the next news 
 I heard, was that he was shut up in this poor bit of a place, 
 with nobody troubling their heads about him ! however, 
 I'll never be persuaded but he might have done better, if 
 he would but have spoke a good word for himself, or else 
 have let me done it for him : instead of which, he never 
 would so much as let me see any of his grand friends, 
 though I would not have made the least scruple in the 
 world to have asked them for anything he had a mind to."
 
 CECILIA. 309 
 
 Cecilia again endeavoured to give her comfort ; but 
 finding her only satisfaction was to express her discontent, 
 she arose to take leave. But, turning first to Miss Belfield, 
 contrived to make a private enquiry whether she might 
 repeat her offer of assistance. A downcast and dejected 
 look answering in the affirmative, she put into her hand 
 a ten pound bank note, and wishing them good morning, 
 hurried out of the room. 
 
 Miss Belfield was running after her, but was stopt by her 
 mother who called out, " What is it ? How much is it ? 
 Let me look at it ! " and then, following Cecilia her- 
 self, she thanked her aloud all the way down stairs for her 
 genteelness, assuring her she would not fail making it known 
 to her son. 1 
 
 Cecilia at this declaration turned back, and exhorted her 
 by no means to mention it ; after which she got into her 
 chair, and returned home ; pitying Miss Belfield for the 
 unjust partiality shown to her brother, and excusing the 
 proud shame he had manifested of his relations, from the vul- 
 garity and selfishness of her who was at the head of them. 
 
 Almost a fortnight had now elapsed since her explana- 
 tion with young Delvile, yet not once had he been in 
 Portman-square, though in the fortnight which had pre- 
 ceded, scarce a day had passed which had not afforded him 
 some pretence for calling there. 
 
 At length a note arrived from Mrs. Delvile. It con- 
 tained the most flattering reproaches for her long absence, 
 and a pressing invitation that she would dine and spend 
 the next day with her. 
 
 Cecilia, who had merely denied herself the pleasure of 
 this visit from an apprehension of seeming too desirous of 
 keeping up the connexion, now, from the same sense of 
 propriety, determined upon making it, wishing equally to 
 avoid all appearance of consciousness, either by seeking or 
 avoiding the intimacy of the family. 
 
 Not a little was her anxiety to know in what manner 
 young Delvile would receive her, whether he would be 
 
 1 "Mrs. Belfield has quite enchanted Mrs. Thrale, she knows, she 
 says, so many like her in the Borough." Miss Burncy to Mr. Crisp, 
 May, 1782.
 
 310 CECILIA, 
 
 grave or gay, agitated, as during their last conversation, 
 or easy, as in the meetings which had preceded it. 
 
 She found Mrs. Delvile, however, alone ; and extremely 
 kind to her, yet much surprised, and half displeased, that 
 she had so long been absent. Cecilia, though somewhat 
 distressed what excuses to offer, was happy to find herself 
 so highly in favour, and not very reluctant to promise 
 more frequent visits in future. 
 
 They were then summoned to dinner ; but still no young 
 Delvile was visible : they were joined only by his father, 
 and she found that no one else was expected. 
 
 Her astonishment now was greater than ever, and she 
 could account by no possible conjecture for a conduct so 
 extraordinary. Hitherto, whenever she had visited in St. 
 James's-square by appointment, the air with which he 
 had received her, constantly announced that he had im- 
 patiently waited her arrival; he had given up other engage- 
 ments to stay with her, he had openly expressed his hopes 
 that she would never be long absent, and seemed to take 
 a pleasure in her society to which every other was inferior. 
 And now, how striking the difference ! he forbore all visits 
 afc the house where she resided, he even flew from his own 
 when he knew she was approaching it ! 
 
 Nor was this the only vexation of which this day was 
 productive ; Mr. Delvile, when the servants were with- 
 drawn after dinner, expressed some concern that he had 
 been called from her during their last conversation, and 
 added that he would take the present opportunity to talk 
 with her upon some matters of importance. 
 
 He then began the usual parading prelude, which, upon 
 all occasions, he thought necessary, in order to enhance 
 the value of his interposition, remind her of her inferiority, 
 and impress her with a deeper sense of the honour which 
 his guardianship conferred upon her : after which he pro- 
 ceeded to make a formal enquiry, whether she had positively 
 dismissed Sir Robert Floyer ? 
 
 She assured him she had. 
 
 " I understood my Lord Ernolf," said he, " that you had 
 totally discouraged the addresses of his son ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered Cecilia, "for I never mean to 
 receive them."
 
 CECILIA. 311 
 
 " Have you, then, any other engagement ?\ n 
 
 "No, sir," cried she, colouring between shame and dis- 
 pleasure, " none at all." 
 
 " This is a very extraordinary circumstance ! " replied 
 he : " the son of an earl to be rejected by a young woman 
 of no family, and yet no reason assigned for it ! " 
 
 This contemptuous speech so cruelly shocked Cecilia, 
 that though he continued to harangue her for a great part 
 of the afternoon, she only answered him when compelled 
 by some question, and was so evidently discomposed, that 
 Mrs. Delvile, who perceived her uneasiness with much 
 concern, redoubled her civilities and caresses, and used 
 every method in her power to oblige and enliven her. 
 
 Cecilia was not ungrateful for her care, and showed her 
 sense of it by added respect and attention ; but her mind was 
 disturbed, and she quitted the house as soon as she was able. 
 
 Mr. Delvile's speech, from her previous knowledge of 
 the extreme haughtiness of his character, would not have 
 occasioned her the smallest emotion, had it merely related 
 to him or to herself : but as it concerned Lord Ernolf , she 
 regarded it as also concerning his son ; and she found that, 
 far from trying to promote the union Mr. Monckton had 
 told her he had planned, he did not seem even to think of 
 it, but, on the contrary, proposed and seconded with all 
 his interest another alliance. 
 
 This, added to the behaviour of young Delvile, made 
 her suspect that some engagement was in agitation on his 
 own part, and that while she thought him so sedulous only 
 to avoid her, he was simply occupied in seeking another. 
 This painful suggestion, which every thing seemed to con- 
 firm, again overset all her schemes, and destroyed all her 
 visionary happiness. Yet how to reconcile it with what 
 had passed at their last meeting she knew not ; she had 
 then every reason to believe that his heart was in her 
 power, and that courage, or an opportunity more seasonable, 
 was all he wanted to make known his devotion to her; why, 
 then, shun if he loved her ? why, if he loved her not, seem 
 so perturbed at the explanation of her independence ? 
 
 A very little time, however, she hoped would unravel 
 this mystery ; in two days, the entertainment which Mr. 
 Harrel had planned, to deceive the world by an appear-
 
 312 CECILIA.. 
 
 ance of affluence to which he had lost all title, was to 
 take place ; young Del vile, in common with every other 
 person who had ever been seen at the house, had early 
 received an invitation, which he had readily promised to 
 accept some time before the conversation that seemed the 
 period of their acquaintance had passed. Should he, after 
 being so long engaged, fail to keep his appointment, she 
 could no longer have any doubt of the justice of her con- 
 jecture ; should he, on the contrary, again appear, from 
 his behaviour and his looks she might perhaps be able to 
 gather why he had so long been absent. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A ROUT. 
 
 yHE day at length arrived of which the evening and 
 -*- the entrance of company were, for the first time, as 
 eagerly wished by Cecilia as by her dissipated host and 
 hostess. N"o expense and no pains had been spared to 
 render this long projected entertainment splendid and 
 elegant ; it was to begin with a concert, which was to be 
 followed by a ball, and succeeded by a supper. 
 
 Cecilia, though unusually anxious about her own affairs, 
 was not so engrossed by them as to behold with indif- 
 ference a scene of such unjustifiable extravagance ; it con- 
 tributed to render her thoughtful and uneasy, and to deprive 
 her of all mental power of participating in the gaiety of 
 the assembly. Mr. Arnott was yet more deeply affected 
 by the mad folly of the scheme, and received from the 
 whole evening no other satisfaction than that which a look 
 of sympathetic concern from Cecilia occasionally afforded 
 him. 
 
 Till nine o'clock no company appeared, except Sir Robert 
 Floyer, who stayed from dinner time, and Mr. Morrice, 
 who having received an invitation for the evening, was so 
 much delighted with the permission to again enter the 
 house, that he made use of it between six and seven o'clock, 
 and before the family had left the dining parlour. He 
 apologized with the utmost humility to Cecilia for the
 
 CECILIA. 313 
 
 unfortunate accident at the Pantheon ; but as to her it 
 had been productive of nothing but pleasure, by exciting 
 in young Delvile the most flattering alarm for her safety, 
 she found no great difficulty in according him her pardon. 
 
 Among those who came in the first crowd was Mr. 
 Monckton, who, had he been equally unconscious of sinister 
 views, would, in following his own inclination, have been 
 as early in his attendance as Mr. Morrice ; but who, to 
 obviate all suspicious remarks, conformed to the fashionable 
 tardiness of the times. 
 
 Cecilia's chief apprehension for the evening was that 
 Sir Robert Floyer would ask her to dance with him, which 
 she could not refuse without sitting still during the ball, 
 nor accept, after the reports she knew to be spread, without 
 seeming to give a public sanction to them. To Mr. 
 Monckton therefore, innocently considering him as a 
 married man and her old friend, she frankly told her 
 distress, adding, by way of excuse for the hint, that the 
 partners were to be changed every two dances. 
 
 Mr. Monckton, though his principal study was carefully 
 to avoid all public gallantry or assiduity towards Cecilia, 
 had not the forbearance to resist this intimation, and 
 therefore she had the pleasure of telling Sir Robert, when 
 he asked the honour of her hand for the two first dances, that 
 she was already engaged. 
 
 She then expected that he would immediately secure her 
 for the two following ; but, to her great joy, he was so 
 much piqued by the evident pleasure with which she an- 
 nounced her engagement, that he proudly walked away 
 without adding another word. 
 
 Much satisfied with this arrangement, and not without 
 hopes that, if she was at liberty when he arrived, she might 
 be applied to by young Delvile, she now endeavoured to 
 procure herself a place in the music room. 
 
 This, with some difficulty, she effected ; but though there 
 was an excellent concert, in which several capital performers 
 played and sung, she found it impossible to hear a note, as 
 she chanced to be seated just by Miss Leeson, and two 
 other young ladies, who were paying one another compli- 
 ments upon their dress and their looks, settling to dance 
 in the same cotillon, guessing who would begin the minuets,
 
 314 CECILIA. 
 
 and wondering there were not more gentlemen. Yet, in 
 the midst of this unmeaning conversation, of which she 
 remarked that Miss Leeson bore the principal part, not 
 one of them failed, from time to time, to exclaim with great 
 rapture " What sweet music ! " " Oh how charming ! " 
 "Did you ever hear any thing so delightful ? " 
 
 " Ah," said Cecilia to Mr. Grosport, who now approached 
 her, "but for your explanatory observations, how much 
 would the sudden loquacity of this supercilious lady, whom 
 I had imagined all but dumb, have perplext me ! " 
 
 " Those who are most silent to strangers," answered Mr. 
 Gosport, " commonly talk most fluently to their intimates, 
 for they are deeply in arrears, and eager to pay off their 
 debts. Miss Leeson now is in her proper set, and there- 
 fore appears in her natural character : and the poor girl's 
 joy in being able to utter all the nothings she has painfully 
 hoarded while separated from her coterie, gives to her 
 now the wild transport of a bird just let loose from a cage. 
 I rejoice to see the little creature at liberty, for what can 
 be so melancholy as a forced appearance of thinking, where 
 there are no materials for such an occupation? " 
 
 Soon after, Miss Larolles, who was laughing immoderately, 
 contrived to crowd herself into their party, calling out to 
 them, " 0, you have had the greatest loss in the world ! if 
 you had but been in the next room just now ! there's the 
 drollest figure there you can conceive : enough to frighten 
 one to look at him." And presently she added " Lord, 
 if you stoop a little this way, you may see him ! " 
 
 Then followed a general tittering, accompanied with ex- 
 clamations of " Lord, what a fright ! " " It's enough to 
 kill one with laughing to look at. him ! " " Did you ever 
 see such a horrid creature in your life ? " And soon after, 
 one of them screamed out " O Lord, see ! he's grinning 
 at Miss Beverley ! " 
 
 Cecilia then turned her head towards the door, and there, 
 to her own as well as her neighbours amazement, she per- 
 ceived Mr. Briggs ! who, in order to look about him at 
 his ease, was standing upon a chair, from which, having 
 singled her out, he was regarding her with a facetious 
 smirk, which, when it caught her eye, was converted into 
 a familiar nod.
 
 CECILIA. 315 
 
 She returned his salutation, but was not much charmed 
 to observe, that presently descending from his exalted post, 
 which had moved the wonder and risibility of all the com- 
 pany, he made a motion to approach her ; for which pur- 
 pose, regardless of either ladies or gentlemen in his way, 
 he sturdily pushed forward, with the same unconcerned 
 hardiness he would have forced himself through a crowd 
 in the street ; and taking not the smallest notice of their 
 frowns, supplications that he would stand still, and excla- 
 mations of " Pray, sir ! " " Lord, how troublesome ! " 
 and " Sir, I do assure you here's no room ! " he fairly and 
 adroitly elbowed them from him till he reached her seat : 
 and then, with a waggish grin, he looked round, to show 
 he had got the better, and to see whom he had discom- 
 posed. 
 
 When he had enjoyed this triumph, he turned to Cecilia, 
 and chucking her under the chin, said " Well, my little 
 duck, how goes it ? got to you at last ; squeezed my way ; 
 would not be nicked ; warrant I'll mob with the best of 
 them ! Look here ! all in a heat ! hot as the dog-days." 
 
 And then, to the utter consternation of the company, he 
 took off his wig to wipe his head ! which occasioned such 
 universal horror, that all who were near the door escaped 
 into other apartments, while those, who were too much 
 enclosed for flight, with one accord turned away their 
 heads. 
 
 Captain Aresby, being applied to by some of the ladies 
 to remonstrate upon this unexampled behaviour, advanced 
 to him, and said, " I am quite abime, sir, to incommode 
 you, but the commands of the ladies are insuperable. Give 
 me leave, sir, to entreat that you would put on your wig." 
 
 "My wig?" cried he, "ay, ay, shall in a moment, only 
 want to wipe my head first." 
 
 "I am quite assomme, sir," returned the Captain, "to 
 disturb you, but I must really hint you don't comprehend 
 me : the ladies are extremely inconvenienced by these sort 
 of sights, and we make it a principle they should never be 
 accablees with them." 
 
 " Anan ! " cried Mr. Briggs, staring. 
 
 "I say, sir," replied the Captain, "the ladies are quite 
 au desespoir that- you will not cover your head."
 
 316 CECILIA. 
 
 " What for ? " cried he, " what's the matter with my 
 head ? ne'er a man here got a better ! very good stuff in it : 
 won't change it with ne'er a one of you ! " 
 
 And then, half unconscious of the offence he had given, 
 and half angry at the rebuke he had received, he leisurely 
 compleated his design, and again put on his wig, settling it 
 to his face with as much composure as if he had performed 
 the operation in his own dressing-room. 
 
 The Captain, having gained his point, walked away, 
 making, however, various grimaces of disgust, and whisper- 
 ing from side to side " he's the most petrifying fellow I 
 ever was obsede by ! " 
 
 Mr. Briggs then, with much derision, and sundry distor- 
 tions of countenance, listened to an Italian song : after 
 which, he bustled back to the outer apartment, in search of 
 Cecilia, who, ashamed of seeming a party in the disturbance 
 he had excited, had taken the opportunity of his dispute 
 with the Captain to run into the next room ; where, how- 
 ever, he presently found her, while she was giving an 
 account to Mr. Gosport of her connexion with him, to 
 which Morrice, ever curious and eager to know what was 
 going forward, was also listening. 
 
 "Ah, little chick ! " cried he, "got to you again ! soon 
 out-jostle those jemmy sparks ! But where's the supper ? 
 see nothing of the supper ! Time to go to bed, suppose 
 there is none ; all a take-in ; nothing but a little piping." 
 
 " Supper, sir ? " cried Cecilia; "the Concert is not over 
 yet. Was supper mentioned in your card of invitation ? " 
 
 " Ay, to be sure, should not have come else. Don't visit 
 often ; always costs money. Wish I had not come now ; 
 wore a hole in my shoe ; hardly a crack in it before." 
 
 " Why you did not walk, sir ? " 
 
 " Did, did ; why not ? Might as well have stayed away 
 though ; daubed my best coat, like to have spoilt it." 
 
 " So much the better for the tailors, sir," said Morrice, 
 pertly, " for then you must have another." 
 
 "Another! what for? ha'n't had this seven years ; just 
 as good as new." 
 
 " I hope," said Cecilia, " you had not another fall ? " 
 
 " Worse, worse ; like to have lost my bundle." 
 
 " What bundle, sir ? "
 
 CECILIA. 317 
 
 " Best coat and waistcoat ; brought 'em in my handker- 
 chief, purpose to save them. When will Master Harrel do 
 as much ? " 
 
 " But had you no apprehensions, sir," said Mr. Gosport> 
 drily, " that the handkerchief would be the sooner worn out 
 for having a knot tied in it ? " 
 
 " Took care of that, tied it slack. Met an unlucky boy : 
 little dog gave it a pluck ; knot slipt ; coat and waistcoat 
 popt out." 
 
 "But what became of the boy, sir?" cried Morrice, " I 
 hope he got off?" 
 
 " Could not run for laughing ; caught him in a minute ; 
 gave him something to laugh for ; drubbed him soundly." 
 
 " 0, poor fellow'! " cried Morrice, with a loud hollow, " I 
 am really sorry for him. But pray, Sir, what became of 
 your best coat and waistcoat while you gave him this drub- 
 bing ? did you leave them in the dirt ? " 
 
 " No, Mr. Nincompoop," answered Briggs angrily, " I put 
 them on a stall." 
 
 " That was a perilous expedient, sir," said Mr. Gosport, 
 " and I should fear might be attended with ill consequences, 
 for the owner of the stall would be apt to expect some little 
 douceur. How did you manage, sir ? " 
 
 " Bought a halfpennyworth of apples. Serve for supper 
 to-morrow night." 
 
 " But how, sir, did you get your clothes dried, or 
 cleaned ? " 
 
 " Went to an alehouse ; cost me half a pint." 
 
 " And pray, sir," cried Morrice, " where, at last, did you 
 make your toilette ? " 
 
 " Sha'n't tell, sha'n't tell ; ask no more questions. What 
 signifies where a man slips on a coat and waistcoat ? " 
 
 " Why, sir, this will prove an expensive expedition to 
 you," said Mr. Gosport, very gravely: " Have you cast up 
 what it may cost you ? " 
 
 " More than it's worth, more than it's worth," answered 
 he pettishly ; " ha'n't laid out so much in pleasure these 
 five years." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " cried. Morrice, hallowing aloud, " why it 
 can't be more than sixpence in all ! " 
 
 " Sixpence ? " repeated he scornfully, " if you don't
 
 318 CECILIA. 
 
 know the value of sixpence, you'll never be worth fivepence 
 three farthings. How do think got rich, hay ? by wear- 
 ing fine coats, and frizzling my pate ? No, no ; Master 
 Harrel for that ! ask him if he'll cast an account with me ! 
 never knew a man worth a penny with such a coat as 
 that on." 
 
 Morrice again laughed, and again Mr. Briggs reproved 
 him ; and Cecilia, taking advantage of the squabble, stole 
 back to the music-room. 
 
 Here, in a few minutes, Mrs. Panton, a lady who fre- 
 quently visited at the house, approached Cecilia, followed 
 by a gentleman, whom she had never before seen, but who 
 was so evidently chai'med with her, that he had looked at 
 no other object since his entrance into the house. 
 
 Mrs. Panton, presenting him to her by the name of Mr. 
 Marriot, told her he had begged her intercession for the 
 honour of her hand in the first two dances : and the 
 moment she answered that she was already engaged, the 
 same request was made for the two following, Cecilia had 
 then no excuse, and was therefore obliged to accept him. 
 
 The hope she had entertained in the early part of the 
 evening, was already almost wholly extinguished ! Delvile 
 appeared not ! though her eye watched the entrance of 
 every new visitor, and her vexation made her believe that 
 he alone, of all the town, was absent. 
 
 When the Concert was over, the company joined pro- 
 miscuously for chat and refreshments before the ball ; and 
 Mr. Gosport advanced to Cecilia, to relate a ridiculous dis- 
 pute which had just passed between Mr. Briggs and 
 Morrice. 
 
 - "You, Mr. Gosport," said Cecilia, "who seem to make 
 the minutiae of absurd characters your study, can explain 
 to me, perhaps, why Mr. Briggs seems to have as much 
 pleasure in proclaiming his meanness, as in boasting his 
 wealth." 
 
 " Because," answered Mr. Gosport, " he knows them, in 
 his own affairs, to be so nearly allied, that but for practis- 
 ing the one, he had never possessed the other ; ignorant, 
 therefore, of all discrimination, except, indeed, of pounds, 
 shillings and pence ! he supposes them necessarily in- 
 separable, because with him they were united. What you,
 
 CECILIA. 319 
 
 however, call meanness, he thinks wisdom, and recollects, 
 therefore, not with shame but with triumph, the various 
 little arts and subterfuges by which his coffers have been 
 filled." 
 
 Here Lord Ernolf, concluding Cecilia still disengaged 
 from seeing her only discourse with Mr. Gosport and Mr. 
 Monckton, one of whom was old enough to be her father, 
 and the other was a married man, advanced, and presenting 
 to her Lord Derford, his son, a youth not yet of age, so- 
 licited for him the honour of her hand as his partner. 
 
 Cecilia, having a double excuse, easily declined this pro- 
 posal ; Lord Ernolf, however, was too earnest to be repulsed, 
 and told her he should again try his interest when her two 
 present engagements were fulfilled. Hopeless, now, of 
 young Delvile, she heard this intimation with indifference; 
 and was accompanying Mr. Monckton into the ball-room, 
 when Miss Larolles, flying towards her with an air of in- 
 finite eagerness, caught her hand, and said , n a whisper 
 " pray let me wish you joy ! " 
 
 " Certainly ! " said Cecilia, "but pray let me ask you of 
 what?" 
 
 " Lord, now," answered she, " I am sure you know 
 what I mean ; but you must know I have a prodigious 
 monstrous great favour to beg of you : now pray don't 
 ref^'.o me ; I assure you if you do, I shall be so mortified 
 you've no notion." 
 
 "Well, what is it ? " 
 
 "Nothing but to let me be one of your bride maids. I 
 assure you I shall take it as the greatest favour in the 
 world." 
 
 " My bride maid ! " cried Cecilia ; " but do you not think 
 the bridegroom himself will be rather offended to find a 
 bride maid appointed, before he is even thought of ? " 
 
 " O pray, now," cried she, " don't be ill-natured, for if 
 you are, you've no idea how I shall be disappointed. Only 
 conceive what happened to me three weeks ago ! you must 
 know I was invited to Miss Clinton's wedding, and so I 
 made up a new dress on purpose, in a very particular sort 
 of shape, quite of my own invention, and it had the sweet- 
 est effect you can conceive ; well, and when the time came, 
 do you know her mother happened to die ! Never any
 
 320 CECILIA. 
 
 thing was so excessive unlucky, for now she won't be 
 married this half year, and my dress will be quite old and 
 yellow ; for it's all white, and the most beautiful thing you 
 ever saw in your life." 
 
 " Upon my word you are very obliging ! " cried Cecilia, 
 laughing ; " and pray do you make interest regularly round 
 with all your female acquaintance to be married upon this 
 occasion, or am I the only one you think this distress will 
 work upon ? " 
 
 " Now, how excessive teasing ! " cried Miss Larolles, 
 " when you know so well what I mean, and when all the 
 town knows as well as myself." 
 
 Cecilia then seriously enquired whether she had really 
 any meaning at all. 
 
 " Lord yes," answered she, " you know I mean about Sir 
 Robert Floyer : for I'm told you've quite refused Lord 
 Derford." 
 
 " And are you also told that I have accepted Sir Robert 
 Floyer ? " 
 
 " O dear yes ! the jewels are bought, and the equipages 
 are built; it's quite a settled thing, I know very well." 
 
 Cecilia then very gravely began an attempt to undeceive 
 her ; but the dancing beginning also at the same time, she 
 stayed not to hear her, harrying, with a beating heart, to 
 the place of action. Mr. Monckton and his fair partner 
 then followed, mutually exclaiming against Mr. Han-el's 
 impenetrable conduct ; of which Cecilia, however, in a short 
 time ceased wholly to think, for as soon as the first cotillon 
 was over, she perceived young Delvile just walking into the 
 room. 
 
 Surprise, pleasure and confusion assailed her all at once ; 
 she had entirely given up her expectation of seeing him, 
 and an absence so determined had led her to conclude he 
 had pursuits which ought to make her join in wishing it 
 lengthened ; but now he appeared, that conclusion, with tLe 
 fears that gave rise to it, vanished ; and she regretted 
 nothing but the unfortunate succession of engagements 
 which would prevent her dancing with him at all, and pro- 
 bably keep off all conversation with him till supper time. 
 
 She soon, however, perceived a change in his air and 
 behaviour that extremely astonished her : he looked grave
 
 CECILIA. 321 
 
 and thoughtful, saluted her at a distance, showed no sign 
 of any intention to approach her, regarded the dancing and 
 dancers as a public spectacle in which he had no chance of 
 personal interest, and seemed wholly altered, not merely with 
 respect to her, but to himself, as his former eagerness for her 
 society was not more abated than his former general gaiety. 
 
 She had no time, however, for comments, as she was 
 presently called to the second cotillon ; but the confused 
 and unpleasant ideas which, without waiting for time or 
 reflection, crowded upon her imagination on observing his 
 behaviour, were not more depressing to herself, than obvious 
 to her partner ; Mr. Monckton by the change in her coun- 
 tenance first perceived the entrance of young Delvile, and 
 by her apparent emotion and uneasiness, readily penetrated 
 into the state of her mind ; he was confirmed that her 
 affections were engaged ; he saw, too, that she was doubtful 
 with what return. 
 
 The grief with which he made the first discovery, was 
 somewhat lessened by the hopes he conceived from the 
 second ; yet the evening was to him as painful as to Cecilia, 
 since he now knew that whatever prosperity might ulti- 
 mately attend his address and assiduity, her heart was not 
 her own to bestow ; and that even were he sure of young 
 Delvile's indifference, and actually at liberty to make pro- 
 posals for himself, the time of being first in her esteem was 
 at an end, and the long-earned good opinion which he had 
 hoped would have ripened into affection, might now be 
 wholly undermined by the sudden impression of a lively 
 stranger, without trouble to himself, and perhaps without 
 pleasure ! 
 
 Reflections such as these wholly embittered the delight 
 he had promised himself from dancing with her, and took 
 from him all power to combat the anxiety with which she 
 was seized : when the second cotillon, therefore, was over, 
 instead of following her to a seat, or taking the privilege 
 of his present situation to converse with her, the jealousy 
 rising in his breast robbed him of all satisfaction, and gave 
 to him no other desire than to judge its justice by watching 
 her motions at a distance. 
 
 Meanwhile Cecilia, inattentive whether he accompanied 
 or quitted her, proceeded to the first vacant seat. Young 
 
 T
 
 322 CECILIA. 
 
 Delvile was standing near it, and, in a short time, but 
 rather as if he could not avoid than as if he wished it, he 
 came to enquire how she did. 
 
 The simplest question, in the then situation of her mind, 
 was sufficient to confuse her, and though she answered, she 
 hardly knew what he had asked. A minute's recollection, 
 however, restored an apparent composure, and she talked 
 to him of Mrs. Delvile, with her usual partial regard for 
 that lady, and with an earnest endeavour to seem uncon- 
 scious of any alteration in his behaviour. 
 
 Yet, to him, even this trifling and general conversation 
 was evidently painful, and he looked relieved by the ap- 
 proach of Sir Robert Floyer, who soon after joined them. 
 
 At this time a young lady who was sitting by Cecilia, 
 called to a servant who was passing, for a glass of lemonade : 
 Cecilia desired he would bring her one also ; but Delvile, 
 not sorry to break off the discourse, said he would himself 
 be her cup-bearer, and for that purpose went away. 
 
 A moment after, the servant returned with some lemonade 
 to Cecilia's neighbour, and Sir Robert, taking a glass from 
 him, brought it to Cecilia at the very instant young Delvile 
 came with another. 
 
 " I think I am before-hand with you, sir," said the in- 
 solent baronet. 
 
 " No, sir," answered young Delvile, " I think we were 
 both in together : Miss Beverley, however, is steward of 
 the race, and we must submit to her decision." 
 
 " Well, madam," cried Sir Robert, " here we stand, wait- 
 ing your pleasure. Which is to be the happy man ! " 
 
 "Each, I hope," answered Cecilia, with admirable pre- 
 sence of mind, " since I expect no less than that you will 
 both do me the honour of drinking my health." 
 
 This little contrivance, which saved her alike from show- 
 ing favour or giving offence, could not but be applauded by 
 both parties : and while they obeyed her orders, she took a 
 third glass herself from the servant. 
 
 While this was passing, Mr. Briggs, again perceiving her, 
 stumpt hastily towards her, calling out " Ah, ah ! my duck ! 
 what's that ? got something nice ? Come here, my lad, 
 taste it myself." 
 
 He then took a glass, but having only put it to his
 
 CECILIA. 323 
 
 mouth, made a wry face, and returned it, sayir.g " Bad ! 
 bad ! poor punch indeed ! not a drop of rum in it ! " 
 
 " So much the better, sir," cried Morrice, who diverted 
 himself by following him, " for then you see the master of 
 the house spares in something, and you said he spared in 
 nothing." 
 
 "Don't spare in fools!" returned Mr. Briggs, "keeps 
 them in plenty." 
 
 " No, sir, nor in any out of the way characters," an- 
 swered Morrice. 
 
 " So much the worse," cried Briggs, " so much the 
 worse ! Eat him out of house and home ; won't leave him 
 a rag to his back, nor a penny in his pocket. Never mind 
 'em, my little duck ; mind none of your guardians but me : 
 t'other two a'n't worth a rush." 
 
 Cecilia, somewhat ashamed of this speech, looked towards 
 young Delvile, in whom it occasioned the first smile she had 
 seen that evening. 
 
 " Been looking about for you ! " continued Briggs, nod- 
 ding sagaciously ; " believe I've found one will do. Guess 
 what I mean ; 100,000 hay ? what say to that ? any 
 thing better at the west end of the town ? " 
 
 " 100,000," cried Morrice, " and pray, sir, who may 
 this be?" 
 
 " Not you, Mr. Jackanapes ! sure of that. A'n't quite 
 positive he'll have you, neither. Think he will, though." 
 
 " Pray, sir, what age is he ? " cried the never daunted 
 Morrice. 
 
 " Why about let's see don't know, never heard, what 
 signifies ? " 
 
 " But, sir, he's an old man, I suppose, by being so rich ? " 
 
 " Old ? no, no such thing ; about my own standing." 
 
 " What, sir, and do you propose him for a husband to 
 Miss Beverley ? " 
 
 " Why not ? know ever a one warmer ? think Master 
 Harrel will get her a better ; or t'other old Don, in the 
 grand square ? " 
 
 " If you please, sir," cried Cecilia hastily, " we will talk 
 of this matter another time." 
 
 "No, pray," cried young Delvile, who could not forbear 
 laughing, " let it be discussed now."
 
 324 CECILIA. 
 
 " Hate 'em," continued Mr. Briggs, "hate 'em both! 
 one spending more than he's worth, cheated and over- 
 reached by fools, running into gaol to please a parcel of 
 knaves : t'other counting nothing but uncles and grand- 
 fathers, dealing out fine names instead of cash, casting up 
 more cousins than guineas " 
 
 Again Cecilia endeavoured to silence him, but, only 
 chucking her under the chin, he went on, " Ay, ay, my 
 little duck, never mind 'em ; one of them i'n't worth a 
 penny, and t'other has nothing in his pockets but lists of 
 the defunct. What good will come of that ? would not 
 give twopence a dozen for 'em ! A poor set of grandees, 
 with nothing but a tie-wig for their portions ! " 
 
 Cecilia, unable to bear this harangue in the presence of 
 young Delvile, who, however, laughed it off with a very 
 good grace, arose with an intention to retreat, which being 
 perceived by Sir Robert Floyer, who had attended to this 
 dialogue with haughty contempt, he came forward, and 
 said " now then, madam, may I have the honour of your 
 hand ? " 
 
 "No, sir," answered Cecilia, "I am engaged." 
 
 " Engaged again ? " cried he, with the air of a man who 
 thought himself much injured. 
 
 " Glad of it, glad of it ! " said Mr. Briggs ; " served very 
 right ! have nothing to say to him, my chick ! " 
 
 "Why not, sir ?" cried Sir Robert, with an imperious 
 look. 
 
 " Sha'n't have her, sha'n't have her ! can tell you that ; 
 won't consent ; know you of old." 
 
 " And what do you know of me, pray sir ? " 
 
 "No good, no good ; nothing to say to you ; found fault 
 with my nose ! ha'n't forgot it." 
 
 At this moment Mr. Marriot came to claim his partner, 
 who, very willing to quit this scene of wrangling and vul- 
 garity, immediately attended him. 
 
 Miss Larolles, again flying up to her, said " 0, my dear, 
 we are all expiring to know who that creature is ! I never 
 saw such a horrid fright in my life ! " 
 
 Cecilia was beginning to satisfy her, but some more 
 young ladies coming up to join in the request, she endea- 
 voured to pass on : " 0, but," cried Miss Larolles, detaining
 
 CECILIA. 325 
 
 her, " do pray stop, for I've something to tell you that's so 
 monstrous you've no idea. Do you know Mr. Meadows 
 has not danced at all ! and he's been standing with Mr. 
 Sawyer, and looking on all the time, and whispering and 
 laughing so you've no notion. However, I assure you, I'm 
 excessive glad he did not ask me, for all I have been sitting 
 still all this time, for I had a great deal rather sit still, I 
 assure you : only I'm sorry I put on this dress, for any 
 thing would have done just to look on in that stupid 
 manner." 
 
 Here Mr. Meadows sauntered towards them ; and all the 
 young ladies began playing with their fans, and turning 
 their heads another way, to disguise the expectations which 
 his approach awakened ; and Miss Larolles, in a hasty 
 whisper to Cecilia, cried, " Pray don't take any notice of 
 what I said, for if he should happen to ask me, I can't well 
 refuse him, you know, for if I do, he'll be so excessive 
 affronted you can't think." 
 
 Mr. Meadows then, mixing in the little group, began, 
 with sundry grimaces, to exclaim, " How intolerably hot it 
 is ! there's no such thing as breathing. How can any body 
 think of dancing ! I am amazed Mr. Harrel has not a 
 ventilator in this room. Don't you think it would be a 
 great improvement ? " 
 
 This speech, though particularly addressed to no one, 
 received immediately an assenting answer from all the 
 young ladies. 
 
 Then, turning to Miss Larolles, " Don't you dance ? " he 
 said. 
 
 "Me?" cried she, embarrassed, "yes, I believe so, 
 really, I don't know, I a'n't quite determined." 
 
 " O, do dance ! " cried he, stretching himself and yawn- 
 ing, " it always gives me spirits to see you." 
 
 Then, turning suddenly to Cecilia, without any previous 
 ceremony of renewing his acquaintance, either by speaking 
 or bowing, he abruptly said " Do you love dancing, ma'am ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, extremely well." 
 
 " I am very glad to hear it. You have one thing, then, 
 to soften existence." 
 
 " Do you dislike it yourself ? " 
 
 " What, dancing ? Oh, dreadful ! how it was ever adopted
 
 326 CECILIA. 
 
 in a civilized country, I cannot find out; 'tis certainly a 
 Barbarian exercise, and of savage origin. Don't you think 
 so, Miss Larolles ? " 
 
 " Lord no," cried Miss Larolles, " I assure you I like it 
 better than any thing ; I know nothing so delightful ; I 
 declare I dare say I could not live without it ; I should be 
 so stupid you can't conceive." 
 
 " Why I remember," said Mr. Marriott, " when Mr. Mea- 
 dows was always dancing himself. Have you forgot, sir, 
 when you used to wish the night would last for ever, that 
 you might dance without ceasing ? " 
 
 Mr. Meadows, who was now intently surveying a paint- 
 ing that was over the chimney-piece, seemed not to hear 
 this question, but presently called out, " I am amazed Mr. 
 Harrel can suffer such a picture as this to be in his house. 
 I hate a portrait, 'tis so wearisome looking at a thing that 
 is doing nothing ! " 
 
 " Do you like historical pictures, sir, any better ? " 
 
 " 0, no, I detest them ! views of battles, murders, and 
 death ! Shocking ! shocking ! I shrink from them with 
 horror ! " 
 
 "Perhaps you are fond of landscapes ?" 
 
 " By no means ! Green trees and fat cows ! what do 
 they tell one ? I hate every thing that is insipid." 
 
 " Your toleration, then," said Cecilia, " will not be very 
 extensive." 
 
 "No," said he, yawning, "one can tolerate nothing! 
 one's patience is wholly exhausted by the total tediousness 
 of everything one sees, and everybody one talks with. 
 Don't you find it so, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Sometimes I " said Cecilia, rather archly. 
 
 " You are right, ma'am, extremely right ; one does not 
 know what in the world to do with one's self. At home, 
 one is killed with meditation ; abroad, one is overpowered 
 by ceremony ; no possibility of finding ease or comfort. 
 You never go into public, I think, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Why not to be much marked, I find ! " said Cecilia, 
 laughing. 
 
 " O, I beg your pardon ! I believe I saw you one evening 
 at Almack's : I really beg your pardon, but I had quite 
 forgot it."
 
 CECILIA. 327 
 
 "Lord, Mr. Meadows," said Miss Larolles, "don't you 
 know you are meaning the Pantheon ? only conceive how 
 you forget things ! " 
 
 " The Pantheon, was it ? I never know one of those 
 places from another. I heartily wish they were all 
 abolished ; I hate public places. 'Tis terrible to be under 
 the same roof with a set of people who would care nothing 
 if they saw one expiring ! " 
 
 "You are, at least, then, fond of the society of your 
 friends ? " 
 
 " O, no ! to be worn out by seeing always the same faces ! 
 one is sick to death of friends ; nothing makes one so 
 melancholy." 
 
 Cecilia now went to join the dancers, and Mr. Meadows, 
 turning to Miss Larolles, said " Pray don't let me keep you 
 from dancing ; I am afraid you'll lose your place." 
 
 " No," cried she, bridling, " I sha'nt dance at all." 
 
 " How cruel ! " cried he, yawning, " when you know how 
 it exhilarates me to see you ! Don't you think this room 
 
 is very close ? I must go and try another atmosphere 
 
 But I hope you will relent, and dance." 
 
 And then, stretching his arms as if half asleep, he 
 sauntered into the next room, where he flung himself upon 
 a sofa till the ball was over. 1 
 
 The new partner of Cecilia, who was a wealthy, but very 
 simple young man, used his utmost efforts to entertain and 
 oblige her, and, flattered by the warmth of his own desire, 
 he fancied that he succeeded ; though, in a state of such 
 suspense and anxiety, a man of brighter talents had failed. 
 
 At the end of the two dances, Lord Ernolf again at- 
 tempted to engage her for his son, but she now excused 
 herself from dancing any more, and sat quietly as a spec- 
 tatress till the rest of the company gave over. Mr. Marriott, 
 however, would not quit her, and she was compelled to 
 support with him a trifling conversation, which, though 
 irksome to herself, to him, who had not seen her in her 
 happier hour, was delightful. 
 
 1 " The room was very thin, and almost half the ladies danced with 
 one another, though there were men enough present, I believe, had they 
 chosen such exertion ; but the Meadowses at balls are in crowds." 
 Diary of M me - D'Arblay. Brighthelmstone, Nov. 2, 1782.
 
 328 CECILIA. 
 
 She expected every instant to be again joined by young 
 Delvile, but the expectation was disappointed ; he came 
 not ; she concluded he was in another apartment ; the 
 company was summoned to supper, she then thought it 
 impossible to miss him ; but, after waiting and looking for 
 him in vain, she found he had already left the house. 
 
 The rest of the evening she scarce knew what passed, 
 for she attended to nothing ; Mr. Monckton might watch, 
 and Mr. Briggs might exhort her, Sir Robert might dis- 
 play his insolence, or Mr. Marriott his gallantry, all was 
 equally indifferent, and equally unheeded, and before half 
 the company left the house, she retired to her own room. 
 
 She spent the night in the utmost disturbance ; the 
 occurrences of the evening with respect to young Delvile 
 she looked upon as decisive : if his absence had chagrined 
 her, his presence had still more shocked her, since, while 
 she was left to conjecture, though she had fears she had 
 hopes, and though all she saw was gloomy, all she expected 
 was pleasant; but they had now met, and those expectations 
 proved fallacious. She knew not, indeed, how to account 
 for the strangeness of his conduct ; but in seeing it was 
 strange, she was convinced it was unfavourable : he had 
 evidently avoided her while it was in his power, and when, 
 at last, he was obliged to meet her, he was formal, distant, 
 and reserved. 
 
 The more she recollected and dwelt upon the difference 
 of his behaviour in their preceding meeting, the more 
 angry as well as amazed she became at the change, and 
 though she still concluded the pursuit of some other object 
 occasioned it, she could find no excuse for his fickleness if 
 that pursuit was recent, nor for his caprice if it was 
 anterior.
 
 CECILIA. 329 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A BROAD HINT. 
 
 THE next day Cecilia, to drive Delvile a little from her 
 thoughts, which she now no longer wished him to 
 occupy, again made a visit to Miss Belfield, whose society 
 afforded her more consolation than any other she could 
 procure. 
 
 She found her employed in packing up, and preparing 
 to remove to another lodging, for her brother, she said, 
 was so much better, that he did not think it right to con- 
 tinue in so disgraceful a situation. 
 
 She talked with her accustomed openness of her affairs, 
 and the interest which Cecilia involuntarily took in them 
 contributed to lessen her vexation in thinking of her own. 
 "The generous friend of my brother," said she, "who, 
 though but a new acquaintance to him, has courted him 
 in all his sorrows, when every body else forsook him, has 
 brought him at last into a better way of thinking. He 
 says there is a gentleman whose son is soon going abroad, 
 who he is almost sure will like my brother vastly, and 
 in another week, he is to be introduced to him. And so, 
 if my mother can but reconcile herself to parting with him, 
 perhaps we may all do well again." 
 
 "Your mother," said Cecilia, "when he is gone, will 
 better know the value of the blessing she has left in her 
 daughter." 
 
 " no, madam, no ; she is wrapt up in him, and cares 
 nothing for all the world besides. It was always so, and 
 we have all of us been used to it. Bat we have had a 
 sad scene since you were so kind as to come last ; for 
 when she told him what you had done, he was almost out 
 of his senses with anger that we had acquainted you with 
 his distress, and said it was publishing his misery, and 
 undoing whatever his friend or himself could do, for it 
 was making him ashamed to appear in the world, even 
 when his affairs might be better. But I told him asrain
 
 330 CECILIA. 
 
 and again that you had as much sweetness as goodness, 
 and instead of hurting his reputation, would do him nothing 
 but credit." 
 
 "I am sorry," said Cecilia, "Mrs. Belfield mentioned 
 the circumstance at all ; it would have been better, for 
 many reasons, that he should not have heard of it." 
 
 " She hoped it would please him," answered Miss Bel- 
 field ; " however, he made us both promise we would take 
 no such step in future, for he said we were not reduced to 
 so much indigence, whatever he was : and that as to our 
 accepting money from other people, that we might save 
 up our own for him, it would be answering no purpose, 
 for he should think himself a monster to make use 
 of it." 
 
 " And what said your mother ? " 
 
 " Why she gave him a great many promises that she 
 would never vex him about it again ; and indeed, much 
 as I know we are obliged to you, madam, and gratefully as 
 I am sure I would lay down my life to serve you, I am very 
 glad in this case that my brother has found it out. For 
 though I so much wish him to do something for himself, 
 and not to be so proud, and live in a manner he has no 
 right to do, I think, for all that, that it is a great disgrace to 
 my poor father's honest memory, to have us turn beggars 
 after his death, when he left us all so well provided for, 
 if we had but known how to be satisfied." 
 
 " There is a natural rectitude in your heart," said 
 Cecilia, "that the ablest casuists could not mend." 
 
 She then enquired whither they were removing, and 
 Miss Belfield told her to Portland-street, Oxford-road, 1 
 where they were to have two apartments up two pair of 
 stairs, and the use of a very good parlour, in which her 
 brother might see his friends. " And this," added she, 
 "is a luxury for which nobody can blame him, because 
 if he has not the appearance of a decent home, no gentle- 
 man will employ him." 
 
 The Paddington house, she said, was already let, and 
 
 1 Miss Belfield thinks some excuse needed for her brother's taking 
 rooms in a good new street. Mr. Seward, one of the Streatham set, lived 
 at No. 40, Portland Street ; and Boswell died at No. 47, about twelve 
 years later.
 
 CECILIA. 331 
 
 her mother was determined not to hire another, but still 
 to live as penuriously as possible, in order, notwithstanding 
 his remonstrances, to save all she could of her income for 
 her son. 
 
 Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance 
 of Mrs. Belfield, who very familiarly said she came to tell 
 Cecilia they were all in the wrong box in letting her son 
 know of the 10 bank note, "for," continued she, "he 
 has a pride that would grace a duke, and he thinks nothing 
 of his hardships, so long as nobody knows of them. So 
 another time we must manage things better, and when we 
 do him any good, not let him know a word of the matter. 
 We'll settle it all among ourselves, and one day or other 
 he'll be glad enough to thank us." 
 
 Cecilia, who saw Miss Belfield colour with shame at the 
 freedom of this hint, now arose to depart : but Mrs. Bel- 
 field begged her not to go so soon, and pressed her with 
 such urgency to again sit down, that she was obliged to 
 comply. 
 
 She then began a warm commendation of her son, lavishly 
 praising all his good qualities, and exalting even his defects, 
 concluding with saying, " But, ma'am, for all he's such a 
 complete gentleman, and for all he's made so much of, he 
 was so diffident, I could not get him to call and thank you 
 for the present you made him, though, when he went his last 
 airing, I almost knelt to him to do it. But, with all his 
 merit, he wants as much encouragement as a lady, for I 
 can tell you it is not a little will do for him." 
 
 Cecilia, amazed at this extraordinary speech, looked 
 from the mother to the daughter in order to discover its 
 meaning, which, however, was soon rendered plainer by 
 what followed. 
 
 "But pray now, ma'am, don't think him the more un- 
 grateful for his shyness, for young ladies so high in the world 
 as you are, must go pretty good lengths before a young man 
 will get courage to speak to them. And though 1 have 
 told my son over and over that the ladies never like a 
 man the worse for being a little bold, he's so much down 
 in the mouth that it has no effect upon him. But it all 
 comes of his being brought up at the university, for that 
 makes him think he knows better than I can tell him. And
 
 332 CECILIA. 
 
 o, to be sure, he does. However, for all that, it is a hard 
 thing upon a mother to find all she says goes just for 
 nothing. But I hope you'll excuse him, ma'am, for it's 
 nothing in the world but his over-modesty." 
 
 Cecilia now stared with a look of so much astonishment 
 and displeasure, that Mrs. Belfield, suspecting she had 
 gone rather too far, added, " I beg you won't take what 
 I've said amiss, ma'am, for we mothers of families are more 
 used to speak out than maiden ladies. And I should not 
 have said so much, but only I was afraid you would mis- 
 construe my son's backwardness ; and so that he might be 
 flung out of your favour at last, and all for nothing but 
 having too much respect for you." 
 
 " 0, dear mother ! " cried Miss Belfield, whose face was 
 the colour of scarlet, "pray ! " 
 
 "What's the matter now? " cried Mrs. Belfield ; "you 
 are as shy as your brother ; and if we are all to be so, 
 when are we to come to an understanding ? " 
 
 " Not immediately, I believe, indeed," said Cecilia, rising; 
 " but that we may not plunge deeper in our mistakes, I 
 will for the present take my leave." 
 
 " No, ma'am," cried Mrs. Belfield, stopping her, " pray 
 don't go yet, for I've got a great many things I want to 
 talk to you about. In the first place, ma'am, pray what is 
 your opinion of this scheme for sending my son abroad 
 into foreign parts ? I don't know what you may think of 
 it, but as to me, it half drives me out of my senses to have 
 him taken away from me at last in that unnatural manner. 
 And I'm sure, ma'am, if you would only put in a word 
 against it, I dare say he would give it up without a 
 demur." 
 
 " Me ? " cried Cecilia, disengaging herself from her hold, 
 " No, madam, you must apply to those friends who better 
 understand his affairs, and who would have a deeper in- 
 terest in detaining him." 
 
 " Lack-a-day ! " cried Mrs. Belfield, with scarcely 
 smothered vexation, " how hard it is to make these grand 
 young ladies come to reason ! As to my son's other 
 friends, what good will it do for him to mind what they 
 say ? who can expect him to give up his journey, without 
 knowing what amends he shall get for it ? "
 
 CECILIA. 3'33 
 
 " You must settle this matter with him at your leisure," 
 said Cecilia, " I cannot now stay another moment." 
 
 Mrs. Belfield, again finding she had been too precipitate,, 
 tried to draw back, saying, " Pray, ma'am, don't let what I 
 have mentioned go against my son in your good opinion, 
 for he knows no more of it than the furthest person in the 
 world, as my daughter can testify : for as to shyness, he's 
 just as shy as a lady himself ; so what good he ever got at 
 the University, as to the matter of making his fortune, it's 
 what I never could discover. However, I dare say he 
 knows best ; though when all comes to all, if I was to 
 speak my mind, I think he's made but a poor hand of it." 
 
 Cecilia, who only through compassion to the blushing 
 Henrietta forbore repressing this forwardness more se- 
 riously, merely answered Mrs. Belfield by wishing her good 
 morning : but, while she was taking a kinder leave of her 
 timid daughter, the mother added, "^.s to the present, 
 ma'am, you was so kind to make us, Henny can witness 
 for me every penny of it shall go to my son." 
 
 " I rather meant it," said Cecilia, "for your daughter; 
 but if it is of use to anybody, my purpose is sufficiently 
 answered." 
 
 Mrs. Belfield again pressed her to sit down, but she 
 would not again listen to her, coldly saying, " I am sorry 
 you troubled Mr. Belfield with any mention of what passed 
 between his sister and me, but should you speak of it again, 
 I beg you will explain to him that he had no concern in 
 that little transaction, which belonged wholly to ourselves." 
 
 She then hastened down stairs, followed, however, by 
 Mrs. Belfield, making awkward excuses for what she had 
 said, intermixed with frequent hints that she knew all the 
 time she was in the right. 
 
 This little incident, which convinced Cecilia Mrs. Belfield 
 was firmly persuaded she was in love with her son, gave 
 her much uneasiness ; she feared the son himself might 
 entertain the same notion, and thought it most probable the 
 daughter also had imbibed it, though but for the forward 
 vulgarity of the sanguine mother, their opinions might long 
 have remained concealed. Her benevolence towards them, 
 notwithstanding its purity, must now therefore cease to be 
 exerted : nor could she even visit Miss Belfield, since pru-
 
 334 CECILIA. 
 
 dence, and a regard for her own character, seemed imme- 
 diately to prohibit all commerce with the family. 
 
 " And thus difficult," cried she, " is the blameless use of 
 riches, though all who want them, think nothing so easy as 
 their disposal ! This family I have so much wished to 
 serve, I may at last only have injured, since the disappoint- 
 ment of their higher expectations, may render all smaller 
 benefits contemptible. And thus this unfortunate miscon- 
 struction of my good offices, robs them of a useful assistant, 
 and deprives me at the same time of an amiable com- 
 panion." 
 
 As soon as she returned home, she had a letter put into 
 her hand which came from Mr. Harriot, whose servant had 
 twice called for an answer in the short time she had been 
 absent. 
 
 This letter contained a most passionate avowal of the 
 impression she had made on his heart the preceding even- 
 ing, and an angry complaint that Mr. Harrel had refused 
 to hear his proposals. He entreated her permission to wait 
 upon her for only five minutes, and concluded with the 
 most fervent professions of respect and admiration. 
 
 The precipitancy of this declaration served merely to 
 confirm the opinion she had already conceived of the weak- 
 ness of his understanding: but the obstinacy of Mr. Harrel 
 irritated and distressed her ; though weary of expostulating 
 with so hopeless a subject, whom neither reason nor grati- 
 tude could turn from his own purposes, she was obliged to 
 submit to his management, and was well content, in the 
 present instance, to affirm his decree. She therefore wrote 
 a concise answer to her new admirer, in the usual form of 
 civil rejection. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AN ACCOMMODATION. 
 
 /CECILIA was informed the next morning that a young 
 V< woman begged to speak with her, and upon sending 
 for her up stairs, she saw, to her great surprise, Miss Bel- 
 field.
 
 CECILIA. 335 
 
 She came in fear and trembling, sent, she said, by her 
 mother, to entreat her pardon for what had passed the pre- 
 ceding day ; " But I know, madam," she added, " you 
 cannot pardon it, and therefore all that I mean to do is to 
 clear my brother from any share in what was said, for 
 indeed he has too much sense to harbour any such pre- 
 sumption ; and to thank you with a most grateful heart for 
 all the goodness you have shown us." 
 
 And then, modestly curtseying, she would have returned 
 home ; but Cecilia, much touched by her gentleness, took 
 her hand, and kindly reviving her by assurances of esteem, 
 entreated that she would lengthen her stay. 
 
 "How good is this, madam," said she, "after having so 
 much reason to think so ill of me and of all of us ! I tried 
 all in my power to undeceive my mother, or at least to keep 
 her quiet ; but she was so much persuaded she was right, 
 that she never would listen to me, and always said, did I 
 suppose it was for me you condescended to come so often? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Cecilia, "most undoubtedly ; had I not 
 known you, however well I might have wished your brother, 
 I should certainly not have visited at his house. But I am 
 very happy to hear the mistake has spread no further." 
 
 " Ko indeed, madam, I never once thought of it ; and as 
 to my brother, when my mother only hinted it to him, he 
 was quite angry. But, though I don't mean to vindicate 
 what has happened, you will not, I hope, be displeased if I 
 say my mother is much more pardonable than she seems to 
 be, for the same mistake she made with you, she would 
 have been as apt to have made with a princess ; it was not, 
 therefore, from any want of respect, but merely from 
 thinking my brother might marry as high as he pleased, 
 and believing no lady would refuse him, if he would but 
 have the courage to speak." 
 
 Cecilia assured her she would think no more of the 
 error, but told her that to avoid its renewal, she must 
 decline calling upon her again till her brother was gone. 
 She begged therefore to see her in Portman-square when- 
 ever she had leisure, repeatedly assuring her of her good 
 opinion and regard, and of the pleasure with which she 
 should seize every opportunity of showing them. 
 
 Delighted by a reception so kind, Miss Belfield remained
 
 336 CECILIA. 
 
 with her all the morning ; and when at last she was obliged 
 to leave her, she was but too happy in being solicited to 
 repeat her visit. 
 
 She suffered one day only to elapse before she showed 
 her readiness to accept the friendship that was offered her ; 
 and Cecilia, much pleased by this eagerness, redoubled her 
 efforts to oblige and to serve her. 
 
 From this time, hardly a day passed in which she did not 
 call in Portman-square, where nothing in her reception was 
 omitted that could contribute to her contentment. Cecilia 
 was glad to employ her mind in any way that related not to 
 Delvile, whom she now earnestly endeavoured to think of 
 no more, denying herself even the pleasure of talking of 
 him with Miss Belfield, by the name of her brother's noble 
 friend. 
 
 During this time she devised various methods, all too 
 delicate to give even the shadow of offence, for making both 
 useful and ornamental presents to her new favourite, with 
 whom she grew daily more satisfied, and to whom she 
 purposed hereafter offering a residence in her own house. 
 
 The trial of intimacy, so difficult to the ablest to stand, 
 and from which even the most faultless are so rarely ac- 
 quitted, Miss Belfield sustained with honour. Cecilia found 
 her artless, ingenuous, and affectionate ; her understanding 
 was good, though no pains had been taken to improve it ; 
 her disposition though ardent was soft, and her mind 
 seemed informed by intuitive integrity. 
 
 She communicated to Cecilia all the affairs of her family, 
 disguising from her neither distress nor meanness, and 
 seeking to palliate nothing but the grosser parts of the 
 character of her mother. She seemed equally ready to 
 make known to her even the most chosen secrets of her 
 own bosom, for that such she had was evident, from a 
 frequent appearance of absence and uneasiness which she 
 took but little trouble to conceal. Cecilia, however, trusted 
 not herself, in the present critical situation of her own 
 mind, with any enquiries that might lead to a subject she 
 was conscious she ought not to dwell upon : a short time, 
 she hoped, would totally remove her suspense ; but as she 
 had much less reason to expect good than evil, she made it 
 her immediate study to prepare for the worst, and therefore
 
 CECILIA. 337 
 
 carefully avoided all discourse that, by nourishing her ten- 
 derness, might weaken her resolution. 
 
 While thus, in friendly conversation and virtuous for- 
 bearance, passed gravely, but not unhappily, the time of 
 Cecilia, the rest of the house was very differently employed : 
 feasting, revelling, amusements of all sorts were pursued 
 with more eagerness than ever, and the alarm which so 
 lately threatened their destruction seemed now merely to 
 heighten the avidity with which they were sought. Yet 
 never was the disunion of happiness and diversion more 
 striking and obvious : Mr. Harrel, in spite of his natural 
 levity, was seized from time to time with fits of horror that 
 embittered his gayest moments, and cast a cloud upon all 
 his enjoyments. Always an enemy to solitude, he now 
 found it wholly insupportable, and ran into company of any 
 sort, less from a hope of finding entertainment, than from 
 a dread of spending half an hour by himself. 
 
 Cecilia, who saw that his rapacity for pleasure encreased 
 with his uneasiness, once more ventured to speak with his 
 lady upon the subject of reformation ; counselling her to 
 take advantage of his present apparent discontent, which 
 showed at least some sensibility of his situation, in order to 
 point out to him the necessity of an immediate inspection 
 into his affairs, which, with a total change in his way of 
 life, was her only chance for snatching him from the dismal 
 despondency into which he was sinking. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel declared herself unequal to following this 
 advice, and said that her whole study was to find Mr. 
 Harrel amusement, for he was grown so ill-humoured and 
 petulant she quite feared being alone with him. 
 
 The house therefore now was more crowded than ever, 
 and nothing but dissipation was thought of. Among those 
 who upon this plan were courted to it, the foremost was 
 Mr. Morrice, who, from a peculiar talent of uniting servility 
 of conduct with gaiety of speech, made himself at once so 
 agreeable and useful in the family, that in a short time they 
 fancied it impossible to live without him. And Morrice, 
 though his first view in obtaining admittance had been the 
 cultivation of his acquaintance with Cecilia, was perfectly 
 satisfied with the turn that matters had taken, since his 
 utmost vanity had never led him to entertain any matri- 
 
 z
 
 338 CECILIA. 
 
 monial hopes with her, and he thought his fortune as likely 
 to profit from the civility of her friends as of herself. For 
 Morrice, however flighty and wild, had always at heart the 
 study of his own interest ; and though from a giddy for- 
 wardness of disposition he often gave offence, his meaning 
 and his serious attention was not the less directed to the 
 advancement of his own affairs : he formed no connection 
 from which he hoped not some benefit, and he considered 
 the acquaintance and friendship of his superiors in no other 
 light than that of procuring him, sooner or later, recommen- 
 dation to new clients. 
 
 Sir Robert Floyer also was more frequent than ever in 
 his visits, and Mr. Harrel, notwithstanding the remon- 
 strances of Cecilia, contrived every possible opportunity of 
 giving him access to her. Mrs. Harrel herself, though 
 hitherto neutral, now pleaded his cause with earnestness ; 
 and Mr. Arnott, who had been her former refuge from this 
 persecution, grew so serious and so tender in his devoirs, 
 that, unable any longer to doubt the sentiments she had 
 inspired, she was compelled even with him to be guarded 
 and distant. She now with daily concern looked back to 
 the sacrifice she had made to the worthless and ungrateful 
 Mr. Harrel, and was sometimes tempted to immediately 
 choose another guardian, and leave his house for ever : yet 
 the delicacy of her disposition was averse to any step that 
 might publicly expose him, and her early regard for his 
 wife would not suffer her to put it in execution. 
 
 These circumstances contributed strongly to encrease her 
 intimacy with Miss Belfield ; she now never saw Mrs. Del- 
 vile, whom alone she preferred to her, and from the trouble- 
 some assiduity of Sir Robert, scarce ever met Mr. Monckton 
 but in his presence : she found, therefore, no resource 
 against teasing and vexation, but what was afforded her by 
 the conversation of the amiable Henrietta.
 
 CECILIA. 339 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A DETECTION. 
 
 A FORTNIGHT had now elapsed in which Cecilia had 
 had no sort of communication with the Delviles, whom, 
 equally from pride and from prudence, she forbore to seek 
 herself, when one morning, while Miss Belfield was sitting 
 with her, she was told by her maid that young Mr. Del vile 
 was in the drawing-room, and begged the honour of seeing 
 her for a few moments. 
 
 Cecilia, though she started and changed colour with 
 surprise at this message, was unconscious she did either, 
 from the yet greater surprise she received by the behaviour 
 of Miss Belfield, who, hastily arising, exclaimed " Good God, 
 
 Mr. Delvile ! do you know Mr. Delvile, madam ? does 
 
 Mr. Delvile visit at this house ? " 
 
 " Sometimes ; not often," answered Cecilia ; "but why ? " 
 
 " I don't know, nothing, madam, I only asked by ac- 
 cident, I believe, but it's very it's extremely I did not 
 know " and colouring violently, she again sat down. 
 
 An apprehension the most painful now took possession of 
 Cecilia, and absorbed in thought, she continued for some 
 minutes silent and immoveable. 
 
 From this state she was awakened by her maid, who 
 asked if she chose to have her gloves. 
 
 Cecilia, taking them from her without speaking, left the 
 room, and not daring to stop for enquiry or consideration, 
 hastened down stairs ; but when she entered the apartment 
 where young Delvile was waiting for her, all utterance 
 seemed denied her, and she curtseyed without saying a 
 word. 
 
 Struck with the look and uncommon manner of her 
 entrance, he became in a moment as much disturbed as 
 herself, pouring forth a thousand unnecessary and em- 
 barrassed apologies for his visit, and so totally forgetting 
 even the reason why he made it, that he had taken his 
 leave, and was departing before he recollected it. He then 
 turned back, forcing a laugh at his own absence of mind,
 
 340 CECILIA. 
 
 and told her he had only called to acquaint her, that the 
 commands with which she had honoured him were now 
 obeyed, and, he hoped, to her satisfaction. 
 
 Cecilia, who knew not she had ever given him any, 
 waited his further explanation ; and he then informed her 
 he had that very morning introduced Mr. Belfield to the 
 Earl of Vannelt, who had already heard him very advan- 
 tageously spoken of by some gentlemen to whom he had 
 been known at the University, and who was so much 
 pleased with him upon this first interview, that he meant, 
 after a few enquiries, which could not but turn out to his 
 credit, to commit his eldest son to his trust in making the 
 tour of Europe. 
 
 Cecilia thanked him for her share in the trouble he had 
 taken in this transaction ; and then asked if Mrs. Delvile 
 continued well. 
 
 " Yes," answered he with a smile half reproachful, " as 
 well as one who having ever hoped your favour, can easily 
 be after finding that hope disappointed. But much as she 
 has taught her son, there is one lesson she might perhaps 
 learn from him ; to fly, not seek, those dangerous in- 
 dnlgencies of which the deprivation is the loss of peace ! " 
 
 He then bowed, and made his exit. 
 
 This unexpected reproof, and the yet more unexpected 
 compliment that accompanied it, in both which more seemed 
 meant than met the ear, encreased the perturbation into 
 which Cecilia had already been thrown. It occurred to her 
 that under the sanction of his mother's name, he had taken 
 an opportunity of making an apology for his own conduct ; 
 yet why avoiding her society, if to that he alluded, should 
 be flying a dangermis indulgence, she could not understand, 
 since he had so little reason to fear any repulse in con- 
 tinuing to seek it. 
 
 Sorry, however, for the abrupt manner in which she had 
 left Miss Belfield, she lost not a moment in hastening back 
 to her; but when she came into the room, she found her 
 employed in looking out of the window, her eye following 
 some object with such earnestness of attention, that she 
 perceived not her return. 
 
 Cecilia, who could not doubt the motive of her curiosity, 
 had no great difficulty in forbearing to offer her any inter-
 
 CECILIA. 341 
 
 ruption. She drew her head back in a few minutes, and 
 casting it upwards, with her hands clasped, softly whispered, 
 " Heaven ever shield and bless him ! and 0, may he never 
 feel such pain as I do ! " 
 
 She then again looked out, but soon drawing herself in, 
 said, in the same soft accents, " Oh why art thou gone ! 
 sweetest and noblest of men ! why might I not see thee 
 longer, when, under heaven, there is no other blessing I 
 wish for ! " 
 
 A sigh which at these words escaped Cecilia, made her 
 start and turn towards the door ; the deepest blushes over- 
 spread the cheeks of both as their eyes met each other, and 
 while Miss Belfield trembled in every limb at the discovery 
 she had made, Cecilia herself was hardly able to stand. 
 
 A painful and most embarrassed silence succeeded, which 
 was only broken by Miss Belfield's bursting into tears. 
 
 Cecilia, extremely moved, forgot for a moment her own 
 interest in what was passing, and tenderly approaching, 
 embraced her with the utmost kindness : but still she spoke 
 not, fearing to make any enquiry, from dreading to hear 
 any explanation. 
 
 Miss Belfield, soothed by her softness, clung about her, 
 and hiding her face in her arms, sobbed out " Ah, madam ! 
 who ought to be unhappy if befriended by you ! if I could 
 help it, I would love nobody else in almost the whole world. 
 But you must let me leave you now, and to-morrow I will 
 tell you everything." 
 
 Cecilia, who had no wish for making any opposition, em- 
 braced her again, and suffered her quietly to depart. 
 
 Her own mind was now in a state of the utmost con- 
 fusion. The rectitude of her heart and the soundness of 
 her judgment had hitherto guarded her both from error 
 and blame, and, except during her recent suspense, had 
 preserved her tranquillity inviolate : but her commerce with 
 the world had been small and confined, and her actions had 
 had little reference but to herself. The case was now 
 altered ; and she was suddenly in a conjuncture of all others 
 the most delicate, that of accidentally discovering a rival in 
 a favourite friend. 
 
 The fondness she had conceived for Miss Belfield, and the 
 sincerity of her intentions as well as promises to serve her,
 
 342 CECILIA. 
 
 made the detection of this secret peculiarly cruel : she had 
 lately felt no pleasure but in her society, and looked forward 
 to much future comfort from the continuance of her regard, 
 and from their constantly living together : but now this 
 was no longer even to be desired, since the utter annihila- 
 tion of the wishes of both, by young Delvile's being dis- 
 posed of to a third person, could alone render eligible their 
 dwelling under the same roof. 
 
 Her pity, however, for Miss Belfield was almost wholly 
 tinallayed by jealousy ; she harboured not any suspicion 
 that she was loved by young Delvile, whose aspiring spirit 
 led her infinitely more to fear some higher rival, than 
 to believe he bestowed even a thought upon the poor Hen- 
 rietta : but still she wished with the utmost ardour to know 
 the length of their acquaintance, how often they had met, 
 when they had conversed, what notice he had taken of her, 
 and how so dangerous a preference had invaded her heart. 
 
 But though this curiosity was both natural and powerful, 
 her principal concern was the arrangement of her own con- 
 duct : the next day Miss Belfield was to tell her everything 
 by a voluntary promise ; but she doubted if she had any 
 right to accept such a confidence. Miss Belfield, she was 
 sure, knew not she was interested in the tale, since she had 
 not even imagined that Delvile was known to her. She 
 might hope, therefore, not only for advice but assistance, 
 and fancy that while she reposed her secret in the bosom of 
 a friend, she secured herself her best offices and best wishes 
 for ever. 
 
 Would she obtain them ? no ; the most romantic gene- 
 rosity would revolt from such a demand, for however 
 precarious was her own chance with young Delvile, Miss 
 Belfield she was sure could not have any neither her birth 
 nor education fitted her for his rank in life, and even were 
 both unexceptionable, the smallness of her fortune, as Mr. 
 Monckton had instructed her, would be an obstacle insur- 
 mountable. 
 
 Would it not be a kind of treachery to gather from her 
 everything, yet aid her in nothing ? to take advantage of 
 her unsuspicious openness in order to learn all that related 
 to one whom she yet hoped would belong ultimately to 
 herself, and gratify an interested curiosity at the expense
 
 CECILIA. 343 
 
 of a candour not more simple than amiable? "No," cried 
 Cecilia, " arts that I could never forgive, I never will 
 practice ; this sweet but unhappy girl shall tell me nothing: 
 betrayed already by the tenderness of her own heart, she 
 shall at least suffer no further from any duplicity in mine. 
 If, indeed, Mr. Delvile, as I suspect, is engaged elsewhere, 
 I will make this gentle Henrietta the object of my future 
 solicitude ; the sympathy of our situations will not then, 
 divide but unite us, and I will take her to my bosom, hear 
 all her sorrows, and calm her troubled spirit by participating 
 in her sensibility. But if, on the contrary, this mystery 
 ends more happily for myself, if Mr. Delvile has now no 
 other engagement, and hereafter clears his conduct to my 
 satisfaction, I will not be accessary to loading her future 
 recollection with the shame of a confidence she then cannot 
 but repent, nor with an injury to her delicacy that may 
 wound it for ever." 
 
 She determined, therefore, carefully to avoid the subject 
 for the present, since she could offer no advice for which 
 she might not, hereafter, be suspected of selfish motives ; 
 but yet, from a real regard to the tender-hearted girl, to 
 give all the tacit discouragement that was in her power, to 
 a passion which she firmly believed would be productive of 
 nothing but misery. 
 
 Once, from the frankness natural to her disposition, she 
 thought not merely of receiving but returning her con- 
 fidence : her better judgment, however, soon led her from 
 so hazardous a plan, which could only have exposed them 
 both to a romantic humiliation, by which, in the end, their 
 mutual expectations might prove sources of mutual dis- 
 trust. 
 
 When Miss Belfield, therefore, the next morning, her air 
 unusually timid, and her whole face covered with blushes, 
 made her visit, Cecilia, not seeming to notice her confusion, 
 told her she was very sorry she was obliged to go out her- 
 self, and contrived, under various pretences, to keep her 
 maid in the room. Miss Belfield, supposing this to be ac- 
 cidental, rejoiced in her imaginary reprieve, and soon 
 recovered her usual cheerfulness : and Cecilia, who really 
 meant to call upon Mrs. Delvile, borrowed Mrs. Harrel's 
 carriage, and set down her artless young friend at her new
 
 344 CECILIA. 
 
 lodgings in Portland-street, before she proceeded to St. 
 James's- square, talking th,e whole time upon matters of 
 utter indifference. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A SARCASM. 
 
 '"PHE reproach which Cecilia had received from young 
 -- Delvile in the name of his mother, determined her 
 upon making this visit ; for though, in her present uncer- 
 tainty, she wished only to see that family when sought by 
 themselves, she was yet desirous to avoid all appearance of 
 singularity, lest any suspicions should be raised of her 
 sentiments. 
 
 Mrs. Delvile received her with a cold civility that chilled 
 and afflicted her : she found her seriously offended by her 
 long absence, and now for the first time perceived that 
 haughtiness of character which hitherto she had thought 
 only given to her by the calumny of envy ; for though her 
 displeasure was undisguised, she deigned not to make any 
 reproaches, evidently showing that her disappointment in 
 the loss of her society, was embittered by a proud regret 
 for the kindness she believed she had thrown away. But 
 though she scrupulously forbore the smallest complaint, 
 she failed not from time to time to cast out reflections upon 
 fickleness and caprice the most satirical and pointed. 
 
 Cecilia, who could not possibly avow the motives of her 
 behaviour, ventured not to offer any apology for her ap- 
 parent negligence ; but, hitherto accustomed to the most 
 distinguished kindness, a change to so much bitterness, 
 shocked and overpowered her, and she sat almost wholly 
 silent, and hardly able to look up. 
 
 Lady Honoria Pemberton, a daughter of the Duke of 
 Derwent, now came into the room, and afforded her some 
 relief by the sprightliness of her conversation. This young 
 lady, who was a relation of the Delviles, and of a character 
 the most airy and unthinking, ran on during her whole 
 visit in a vein of fashionable scandal, with a levity that the
 
 CECILIA. 3-i5 
 
 censures of Mrs. Delvile, though by no means spared, had 
 no power to control : and, after having completely ran- 
 sacked the topics of the day, she turned suddenly to Cecilia, 
 with whom during her residence in St. James's-square she 
 had made some acquaintance, and said, " So I hear, Miss 
 Beverley, that after half the town has given yon to Sir 
 Robert Floyer, and the other half to my Lord Derford, you 
 intend, without regarding one side or the other, to dis- 
 appoint them both, and give yourself to Mr. Marriot." 
 
 " Me ? no, indeed," answered Cecilia, "your ladyship has 
 been much misinformed." 
 
 " I hope so," said Mrs. Delvile, "for Mr. Marriot, by all 
 I ever heard of him, seems to have but one recommendation, 
 and that the last Miss Beverley ought to value, a good 
 estate." 
 
 Cecilia, secretly delighted by a speech which she could 
 not resist nattering herself had reference to her son, now a 
 little revived, and endeavoured to bear some part in the 
 conversation. 
 
 ' : Everybody one meets," cried Lady Honoria, " disposes 
 of Miss Beverley to some new person ; yet the common 
 opinion is that Sir Robert Floyer will be the man. But, 
 upon my word, for my own part, I cannot conjecture how 
 she will manage among them, for Mr. Marriot declares he's 
 determined he won't be refused, and Sir Robert vows that 
 he'll never give her up. So we none of us know how it 
 will end : but I am vastly glad she keeps them so long in 
 suspense." 
 
 " If there is any suspense," said Cecilia, " I am at least 
 sure it must be wilful. But why should your ladyship 
 rejoice in it ? " 
 
 " 0, because it helps to torment them, and keeps some- 
 thing going forward. Besides, we are all looking in the 
 news-papers every day, to see when they'll fight another 
 duel for you." 
 
 " Another ? " cried Cecilia ; " indeed they have never yet 
 fought any for me." 
 
 " O, I beg your pardon," answered her ladyship, " Sir 
 Robert, you know, fought one for you in the beginning of 
 the winter, with that Irish fortune-hunter who affronted 
 you at the Opera."
 
 346 CECILIA. 
 
 " Irish fortune-hunter ! " repeated Cecilia "how strangely 
 has that quarrel been misrepresented ! In the first place, 
 I never was affronted at the Opera at all, and in the second, 
 if your ladyship means Mr. Belfield, I question if he ever 
 was in Ireland in his life." 
 
 " Well," cried Lady Honoria, " he might come from 
 Scotland, for ought I know, but somewhere he certainly 
 came from ; and they tell me he is wounded terribly, and 
 Sir Robert has had all his things packed up this month, that 
 in case he should die, he may go abroad in a moment." 
 
 " And pray where, Lady Honoria," cried Mrs. Delvile, 
 " do you contrive to pick up all this rattle ? " 
 
 " 0, I don't know ; everybody tells me something, so I 
 put it all together as well as I can. But I could acquaint 
 you with a stranger piece of news than any you have heard 
 yet." 
 
 "And what is that?" 
 
 " O, if I let you know it, you'll tell your son." 
 
 " No, indeed," said Mrs. Delvile, laughing, " I shall 
 probably forget it myself." 
 
 She then made some further difficulty, and Cecilia, un- 
 certain if she was meant to be a party in the communica- 
 tion, strolled to a window ; where, however, as Lady 
 Honoria did not lower her voice, she heard her say " Why 
 you must know I am told he keeps a mistress somewhere 
 in Oxford-road. They say she's mighty pretty; I should 
 like vastly to see her." 
 
 The consternation of Cecilia at this intelligence would 
 certainly have betrayed all she so much wished to conceal, 
 had not her fortunate removal to the window guarded her 
 from observation. She kept her post, fearing to look 
 round, but was much pleased when Mrs. Delvile, with 
 great indignation answered, " I am sorry, Lady Honoria, 
 you can find any amusement in listening to such idle 
 scandal, which those who tell will never respect you for 
 hearing. In times less daring in slander, the character of 
 Mortimer would have proved to him a shield from all in- 
 jurious aspersions ; yet who shall wonder he could not 
 escape, and who shall contemn the inventors of calumny, 
 if Lady Honoria Pemberton condescends to be entertained 
 with it ? "
 
 CECILIA. 347 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Delvile," cried Ladj Honoria, giddily, 
 " you take me too seriously." 
 
 " And dear Lady Honoria," said Mrs. Delvile, " I would 
 it were possible to make you take yourself seriously ; for 
 could you once see with, clearness and precision how much 
 you lower your own dignity, while you stoop to depreciate 
 that of others, the very subjects that now make your 
 diversion, would then, far more properly, move your re- 
 sentment." 
 
 " Ay, but, dear madam," cried Lady Honoria, " if that 
 were the case, I should be quite perfect, and then you and 
 I should never quarrel, and I don't know what we should 
 do for conversation." 
 
 And with these words, hastily shaking hands with her r 
 she took leave. 
 
 " Such conversation," said Mrs. Delvile when she was 
 gone, " as results from the mixture of fruitless admonition 
 with incorrigible levity, would be indeed more honoured in 
 the breach than the observance. But levity is so much the 
 fashionable characteristic of the present age, that a gay 
 young girl who, like Lady Honoria Pemberton, rules the 
 friends by whom she ought to be ruled, had little chance 
 of escaping it." 
 
 " She seems so open, however, to reproof," said Cecilia, 
 " that I should hope in a short time she may also be open 
 to conviction." 
 
 "No," answered Mrs. Delvile, " I have no hope of her 
 at all. I once took much pains with her ; but I soon 
 found that the easiness with which she hears of her 
 faults, is only another effect of the levity with which she 
 commits them. But if the young are never tired of erring 
 in conduct, neither are the older in erring in judgment ; 
 the fallability of mine I have indeed very lately expe- 
 rienced." 
 
 Cecilia, who strongly felt the poignancy of this sarcasm, 
 and whose constant and unaffected value of Mrs. Delvile 
 by no means deserved it, was again silenced, and again 
 most cruelly depressed : nor could she secretly forbear 
 repining that at the very moment she found herself 
 threatened with a necessity of foregoing the society of her 
 new favourite, Miss Belfield, the woman in the whole
 
 348 CECILIA. 
 
 world whom she most wished to have for her friend, from 
 an unhappy mistake was ready to relinquish her. Grieved 
 to be thus fallen in her esteem, and shocked that she could 
 offer no justification, after a short and thoughtful pause, 
 she gravely arose to take leave. 
 
 Mrs. Delvile then told her that if she had any business 
 to transact with Mr. Delvile, she advised her to acquaint 
 him with it soon, as the whole family left town in a few 
 days. 
 
 This was a new and severe blow to Cecilia, who sorrow- 
 fully repeated " In a few days, madam ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Mrs. Delvile ; " I hope you intend to 
 be much concerned ? " 
 
 "Ah, madam!" cried Cecilia, who could no longer pre- 
 serve her quietness, " if you knew but half the respect I 
 bear you, but half the sincerity with which I value and 
 revere you, all protestations would be useless, for all accu- 
 sations would be over ! " 
 
 Mrs. Delvile, at once surprised and softened by the 
 warmth of this declaration, instantly took her hand, and 
 said " They shall now, and for ever be over, if it pains you 
 to hear them. I concluded that what I said would be a 
 matter of indifference to you, or all my displeasure would 
 immediately have been satisfied, when once I had inti- 
 mated that your absence had excited it." 
 
 " That I have excited it at all," answered Cecilia, 
 *' gives me indeed the severest uneasiness ; but believe 
 me, madam, however unfortunately appearances may be 
 against me, I have always had the highest sense of the 
 kindness with which you have honoured me, and never has 
 there been the smallest abatement in the veneration, 
 gratitude, and affection I have inviolably borne you." 
 
 " You see, then," said Mrs. Delvile, with a smile, " that 
 where reproof takes any effect, it is not received with that 
 easiness you were just now admiring : on the contrary, 
 where a concession is made without pain, it is also made 
 without meaning, for it is not in human nature to project 
 any amendment without a secret repugnance. That here, 
 however, you should differ from Lady Honoria Pemberton, 
 ' who can wonder, when you are superior to all comparison 
 with her in every thing ? "
 
 CECILIA. 349 
 
 " Will you then," said Cecilia, " accept my apology, and 
 forgive me ? " 
 
 " I will do more," said Mrs. Delvile, laughing, " I will 
 forgive you. without an apology ; for the truth is I have 
 heard none ! But come," continued she, perceiving Cecilia 
 much abashed by this comment, " I will enquire no more 
 about the matter ; I am glad to receive my young friend 
 again, and even half ashamed, deserving as she is, to say 
 how glad ! " 
 
 She then embraced her affectionately, and owned she 
 had been more mortified by her fancied desertion than she 
 had been willing to own even to herself, repeatedly assuring 
 her that for many years she had not made any acquain- 
 tance she so much wished to cultivate, nor enjoyed any 
 society from which she had derived so much pleasure. 
 
 Cecilia, whose eyes glistened with modest joy, while her 
 heart beat quick with revived expectation, in listening to 
 an effusion of praise so infinitely grateful to her, found 
 little difficulty in returning her friendly professions, and, 
 in a few minutes, was not merely reconciled, but more 
 firmly united with her than ever. 
 
 Mrs. Delvile insisted upon keeping her to dinner, and 
 Cecilia, but too happy in her earnestness, readily agreed to 
 send Mrs. Harrel an excuse. 
 
 Neither of the Mr. Delviles spent the day at home, and 
 nothing, therefore, disturbed or interrupted those glowing 
 and delightful sensations which spring from a cordial re- 
 newal of friendship and kindness. The report, indeed, of 
 Lady Honoria Pemberton gave her some uneasiness, yet 
 the nighty character of that lady, and Mrs. Delvile's reply 
 to it, soon made her drive it from her mind. 
 
 She returned home early in the evening, as other com- 
 pany was expected, and she had not changed her dress 
 since the morning ; but she first made a promise to see 
 Mrs. Delvile some part of every day during the short time 
 that she meant to remain in town.
 
 350 CECILIA. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A SURMISE. 
 
 *" I ^HE next morning opened with another scene ; Mrs. 
 -- Harrel ran into Cecilia's room before breakfast, and ac- 
 quainted her that Mr. Harrel had not been at home all night. 
 
 The consternation with which she heard this account 
 she instantly endeavoured to dissipate, in order to soften 
 the apprehension with which it was communicated : Mrs. 
 Harrel, however, was extremely uneasy, and sent all the 
 town over to make enquiries, but without receiving any 
 intelligence. 
 
 Cecilia, unwilling to leave her in a state of such alarm, 
 wrote an excuse to Mrs. Delvile, that she might continue 
 with her till some information was procured. A subject 
 also of such immediate concern was sufficient apology for 
 avoiding any particular conversation with Miss Belfield, 
 who called as usual, about noon, and whose susceptible 
 heart was much affected by the evident disturbance in 
 which she found Cecilia. 
 
 The whole day passed, and no news arrived : but, greatly 
 to her astonishment, Mrs. Harrel in the evening prepared 
 for going to an assembly ! yet declaring at the same time 
 it was extremely disagreeable to her, only she was afraid, 
 if she stayed away, everybody would suppose something 
 was the matter. 
 
 " Who then at last," thought Cecilia, " are half so much 
 the slaves of the world as the gay and the dissipated ? 
 Those who work for hire, have at least their hours of rest ; 
 those who labour for subsistence, are at liberty when sub- 
 sistence is procured ; but those who toil to please the vain 
 and the idle, undertake a task which can never be finished, 
 however scrupulously all private peace, and all internal 
 comfort, may be sacrificed in reality to the folly of saving 
 appearances ! " 
 
 Losing, however, the motive for which she had given up 
 her own engagement, she now sent for her chair, in order 
 to spend an hour or two with Mrs. Delvile.
 
 CECILIA. 
 
 The servants, as they conducted her up stairs, said they 
 would call their lady ; and in entering the drawing room 
 she saw, reading and alone, young Delvile. 
 
 He seemed much surprised, but received her with the 
 utmost respect, apologizing for the absence of his mother, 
 who he said had understood she was not to see her till 
 the next day, and had left him to write letters now, that 
 she might then be at liberty. 
 
 Cecilia, in return, made excuses for her seeming incon- 
 sistency ; after which, for some time, all conversation 
 dropt. 
 
 The silence was at length broken by young Delvile's 
 saying, " Mr. Belfield's merit has not been thrown away 
 upon Lord Vannelt ; he has heard an excellent character 
 of him from all his former acquaintance, and is now fitting 
 up an apartment for him in his own house till his son 
 begins his tour." 
 
 Cecilia said she was very happy in hearing such intelli- 
 gence ; and then again they were both silent. 
 
 " You have seen," said young Delvile, after this second 
 pause, "Mr. Belfield's sister?" 
 
 Cecilia, not without changing colour, answered, " Yes, 
 sir." 
 
 " She is very amiable," he continued, " too amiable, 
 indeed, for her situation, since her relations, her brother 
 alone excepted, are all utterly unworthy of her." 
 
 He stopt ; but Cecilia made no answer, and he presently 
 
 added, " Perhaps you do not think her amiable ? you 
 
 may have seen more of her, and know something to her 
 disadvantage ?" 
 
 " no ! " cried Cecilia, with a forced alacrity, " but only 
 I was thinking that did you say you knew all her rela- 
 tions ? " 
 
 " No," he answered, " but when I have been with Mr. 
 Belfield, some of them have called upon him." 
 
 Again they were both silent ; and then Cecilia, ashamed 
 of her apparent backwardness to give praise, compelled 
 herself to say, " Miss Belfield is indeed a very sweet girl, 
 and I wish " she stopt, not well knowing herself what she 
 meant to add. 
 
 " I have been greatly pleased," said he, after waiting
 
 352 CECILIA. 
 
 some time to hear if she would finish her speech, " by being 
 informed of your goodness to her, and I think she seems 
 equally to require and to deserve it. I doubt not you will 
 extend it to her when she is deprived of her brother, for 
 then will be the time that by doing her most service, it will 
 reflect on yourself most honour." 
 
 Cecilia, confounded by this recommendation, faintly 
 
 answered, " Certainly, whatever is in my power, I 
 
 shall be very glad " 
 
 And just then Mrs. Delvile made her appearance, and 
 during the mutual apologies that followed, her son left the 
 room. Cecilia, glad of any pretence to leave it also, in- 
 sisted upon giving no interruption to Mrs. Delvile's letter 
 writing, and having promised to spend all the next day with 
 her, hurried back to her chair. 
 
 The reflections that followed her thither were by no means 
 the most soothing : she began now to apprehend that the 
 pity she had bestowed upon Miss Belfield, Miss Belfield in 
 a short time might bestow upon her : at any other time, his 
 recommendation would merely have served to confirm her 
 opinion of his benevolence, but in her present state of 
 anxiety and uncertainty, everything gave birth to con- 
 jecture, and had power to alarm her. He had behaved to 
 
 her of late with the strangest coldness and distance, 
 
 his praise of Henrietta had been ready and animated. 
 Henrietta she knew adored him, and, she knew not with 
 what reason, but an involuntary suspicion arose in her 
 mind, that the partiality she had herself once excited, was 
 now transferred to that little-dreaded, but not less dan- 
 gerous rival. 
 
 Yet, if such was the case, what was to become either of 
 the pride or the interest of his family ? Would his rela- 
 tions ever pardon an alliance stimulated neither by rank 
 nor riches ? would Mr. Delvile, who hardly ever spoke but 
 to the high-born, without seeming to think his dignity 
 somewhat injured, deign to receive for a daughter-in-law 
 the child of a citizen and tradesman ? would Mrs. Delvile 
 herself, little less elevated in her notions, though infinitely 
 softer in her manners, ever condescend to acknowledge her ? 
 Cecilia's own birth and connections, superior as they were 
 to those of Miss Belfield, were even openly disdained by
 
 CECILIA. 353 
 
 Mr. Delvile, and all her expectations of being received into 
 his family were founded upon the largeness of her fortune, 
 in favour of which the brevity of her genealogy might 
 perhaps pass unnoticed. But what was the chance of Miss 
 Belfield, who neither had ancestors to boast, nor wealth to 
 allure ? 
 
 This thought, however, awakened all the generosity of 
 her soul : " If," cried she, " the advantages I possess are 
 merely those of riches, how little should I be nattered by 
 any appearance of preference ! and how ill can I judge 
 with what sincerity it may be offered ! happier in that case 
 is the lowly Henrietta, who to poverty may attribute 
 neglect, but who can only be sought and caressed from 
 motives of purest regard. She loves Mr. Delvile, loves 
 him with the most artless affection : perhaps, too, he loves 
 her in return, why else his solicitude to know my opinion 
 of her, and why so sudden his alarm when he thought it 
 unfavourable ? Perhaps he means to marry her, and to 
 sacrifice to her innocence and her attractions all plans of 
 ambition, and all views of aggrandizement : thrice happy 
 Henrietta, if such is thy prospect of felicity ! to have 
 inspired a passion so disinterested, may humble the most 
 insolent of thy superiors, and teach even the wealthiest to 
 envy thee ! " 
 
 A A
 
 354 CECILIA. 
 
 BOOK Y. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A BOLD STROKE. 
 
 WHEN Cecilia returned home, she heard with much 
 concern that no tidings of Mr. Harrel had yet been 
 obtained. His lady, who did not stay out late, was now 
 very seriously frightened, and entreated Cecilia to sit up 
 with her till some news could be procured : she sent also 
 for her brother ; and they all three, in trembling expec- 
 tation of what was to ensue, passed the whole night in 
 watching. 
 
 At six o'clock in the morning Mr. Arnott besought his 
 sister and Cecilia to take some rest, promising to go out 
 himself to every place where Mr. Harrel was known to 
 resort, and not to return without bringing some account of 
 him. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, whose feelings were not very acute, finding 
 the persuasions of her brother were seconded by her own 
 fatigue, consented to follow his advice, and desired him to 
 begin his search immediately. 
 
 A few moments after he was gone, while Mrs. Harrel and 
 Cecilia were upon the stairs, they were startled by a violent 
 knocking at the door. Cecilia, prepared for some calamity, 
 hurried her friend back to the drawing-room, and then fly- 
 ing out of it again to enquire who entered, saw to her equal 
 surprise and relief, Mr. Harrel himself. 
 
 She ran back with the welcome information, and he 
 instantly followed her. Mrs. Harrel eagerly told him of 
 her fright, and Cecilia expressed her pleasure at his return : 
 but the satisfaction of neither was of long duration.
 
 CECILIA. 355 
 
 He came into the room with a look of fierceness the most 
 terrifying, his hat on, and his arms folded. He made no 
 answer to what they said, but pushed back the door with 
 his foot, and flung himself upon a sofa. 
 
 Cecilia would now have withdrawn, but Mrs. Harrel 
 caught her hand to prevent her. They continued some 
 minutes in this situation ; and then Mr. Harrel, suddenly 
 rising, called out, " Have you anything to pack up ? " 
 
 " Pack up ?" repeated Mrs. Harrel ; " Lord bless me, for 
 what ? " 
 
 " I am going abroad," he answered ; " I shall set off to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Abroad ?" cried she, bursting into tears ; " I am sure I 
 hope not ! " 
 
 " Hope nothing ! " returned he, in a voice of rage ; and 
 then, with a dreadful oath, he ordered her to leave him and 
 pack up. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, wholly unused to such treatment, was 
 frightened into violent hysterics ; of which, however, he 
 took no notice, but swearing at her for a fool who had been 
 the cause of his ruin, he left the room. 
 
 Cecilia, though she instantly rang the bell, and hastened 
 to her assistance, was so much shocked by this unexpected 
 brutality, that she scarcely knew how to act, or what to 
 order. Mrs. Harrel, however, soon recovered, and Cecilia 
 accompanied her to her own apartment, where she stayed, 
 and endeavoured to sooth her till Mr. Arnott returned. 
 
 The terrible state in which Mr. Harrel had at last come 
 home, was immediately communicated to him ; and his 
 sister entreated him to use all his influence that the scheme 
 for going abroad might be deferred, at least, if not wholly 
 given up. 
 
 Fearfully he went on the embassy, but speedily, and with 
 a look wholly dismayed, he returned. Mr. Harrel, he said, 
 told him that he had contracted a larger debt of honour 
 than he had any means to raise ; and as he could not appear 
 till it was paid, he was obliged to quit the kingdom without 
 delay. 
 
 " Oh, brother ! " cried Mrs. Harrel, " and can you suffer 
 us to go ? " 
 
 "Alas, my dear sister," answered he, " what can I do to
 
 356 CECILIA. 
 
 prevent it ? and who, if I too am ruined, will in future 
 help you ? " 
 
 Mrs. Harrel then wept bitterly ; nor could the gentle Mr. 
 Arnott forbear, while he tried to comfort her, mixing his 
 own tears with those of his beloved sister : but Cecilia, 
 whose reason was stronger, and whose justice was offended, 
 felt other sensations ; and leaving Mrs. Harrel to the care 
 of her brother, whose tenderness she infinitely compas- 
 sionated, she retreated into her own room : not, however, to 
 rest, the dreadful situation of the family made her forget 
 she wanted it, but to deliberate upon what course she ought 
 herself to pursue. 
 
 She determined, without any hesitation, against accom- 
 panying them in their flight, as the irreparable injury she 
 was convinced she had already done her fortune, was more 
 than sufficient to satisfy the most romantic ideas of friend- 
 ship and humanity : but her own place of abode must now 
 immediately be changed, and her choice rested only between 
 Mr. Delvile and Mr. Briggs. 
 
 Important as were the obstacles which opposed her re- 
 sidence at Mr. Delvile's, all that belonged to inclination and 
 to happiness encouraged it : while with respect to Mr. 
 Briggs, though the objections were lighter, there was not a 
 single allurement. Yet whenever the suspicion recurred to 
 her that Miss Belfield was beloved by young Delvile, she 
 resolved at all events to avoid him : but when better hopes 
 intervened, and represented that his enquiries were probably 
 accidental, the wish of being finally acquainted with his 
 sentiments, made nothing so desirable as an intercourse 
 more frequent. 
 
 Such still was her irresolution, when she received a 
 message from Mr. Arnott to entreat the honour of seeing 
 her. She immediately went down stairs, and found him in 
 the utmost distress. " O, Miss Beverley," he cried, " what 
 can I do for my sister ! what can I possibly devise to relieve 
 her affliction ! " 
 
 " Indeed, I know not ! " said Cecilia ; " but the utter im- 
 practicability of preparing her for this blow, obviously as 
 it has long been impending, makes it now fall so heavily, I 
 wish much to assist her, but a debt so unjustifiably con- 
 tracted "
 
 CECILIA. 357 
 
 " O, madam," interrupted he, " imagine not I sent to you 
 with so treacherous a view as to involve you in our misery ; 
 far too unworthily has your generosity already been abused. 
 I only wish to consult with you what I can do with my 
 sister." 
 
 Cecilia, after some little consideration, proposed that 
 Mrs. Harrel should still be left in England, and under their 
 joint care. 
 
 " Alas ! " cried he, " I have already made that proposal, 
 but Mr. Harrel will not go without her, though his whole 
 behaviour is so totally altered, that I fear to trust her with 
 him." 
 
 " Who is there, then, that has more weight with him ? " 
 said Cecilia ; " shall we send for Sir Robert Floyer to second 
 our request ? " 
 
 To this Mr. Arnott assented, forgetting in his apprehen- 
 sion of losing his sister, the pain he should suffer from the 
 interference of his rival. 
 
 The baronet presently arrived, and Cecilia, not choosing 
 to apply to him herself, left him with Mr. Arnott, and 
 waited for intelligence in the library. 
 
 In about an hour after, Mrs. Harrel ran into the room, 
 her tears dried up, and out of breath with joy, and called 
 out, " My dearest friend, my fate is now all in your hands, 
 and I am sure you will not refuse to make me happy." 
 
 "What is it I can do for you ?" cried Cecilia, dreading 
 some impracticable proposal ; " Ask me not, I beseech you, 
 what I cannot perform ! " 
 
 " No, no," answered she ; " what I ask requires nothing 
 but good nature. Sir Robert Floyer has been begging Mr. 
 Harrel to leave me behind ; and he has promised to comply, 
 upon condition you will hasten your marriage, and take me 
 into your own house." 
 
 " My marriage ! " cried the astonished Cecilia. 
 
 Here they were joined by Mr. Harrel himself, who re- 
 peated the same offer. 
 
 " You both amaze and shock me ! " cried Cecilia ; " what 
 is it you mean, and why do you talk to me so wildly? " 
 
 "Miss Beverley," cried Mr. Harrel, "it is high time now 
 to give up this reserve, and trifle no longer with a gentle- 
 man so unexceptionable as Sir Robert Floyer. The whole
 
 358 CECILIA. 
 
 town has long acknowledged him as your husband, and you 
 are everywhere regarded as his bride ; a little frankness, 
 therefore, in accepting him, will not only bind him to you 
 for ever, but do credit to the generosity of your character." 
 
 At that moment Sir Robert himself burst into the room, 
 and seizing one of her hands, while both of them were 
 uplifted in mute amazement, he pressed it to his lips, poured 
 forth a volley of such compliments as he had never before 
 prevailed with himself to utter, and confidently entreated 
 her to complete his long-attended happiness, without the 
 cruelty of further delay. 
 
 Cecilia, almost petrified by the excess of her surprise, 
 at an attack so violent, so bold, and apparently so sanguine, 
 was for some time scarce able to speak or to defend herself ; 
 but when Sir Robert, presuming on her silence, said she 
 had made him the happiest of men, she indignantly drew 
 back her hand, and with a look of displeasure that required 
 little explanation, would have walked out of the room ; 
 when Mr. Barrel, in a tone of bitterness and disappoint- 
 ment, called out, " Is this lady-like tyranny then never to 
 end?" And Sir Robert, impatiently following her, said, 
 " And is my suspense to endure for ever ? After so many 
 months attendance " 
 
 " This, indeed, is something too much," said Cecilia, turn- 
 ing back : " You have been kept, sir, in no suspense ; the 
 whole tenor of my conduct has uniformly declared the same 
 disapprobation I at present avow, and which my letter, at 
 least, must have put beyond all doubt." 
 
 " Harrel," exclaimed Sir Robert, " did not you tell 
 me " 
 
 " Pho, pho," cried Harrel, " what signifies calling upon 
 me ? I never saw in Miss Beverley any disapprobation 
 beyond what it is customary for young ladies of a senti- 
 mental turn to show ; and everybody knows that where a 
 gentleman is allowed to pay his devoirs for any length of 
 time, no lady intends to use him very severely." 
 
 " And can you, Mr. Harrel," said Cecilia, " after such 
 conversations as have passed between us, persevere in this 
 wilful misapprehension ? But it is in vain to debate where 
 all reasoning is disregarded, or to make any protestations 
 where even rejection is received as a favour."
 
 CECILIA. 359 
 
 And then, with an air of disdain, she insisted upon passing 
 them, and went to her own room. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, however, still followed, and clinging round 
 her, still supplicated her pity and compliance. 
 
 " What infatuation is this ! " cried Cecilia ; " is it pos- 
 sible that you, too, can suppose I ever mean to accept Sir 
 Robert ? " 
 
 " To be sure I do," answered she ; " for Mr. Harrel ha3 
 told me a thousand times, that however you played the 
 prude, you would be his at last." 
 
 Cecilia, though doubly irritated against Mr. Harrel, was 
 now appeased with his lady, whose mistake, however ill- 
 founded, offered an excuse for her behaviour ; but she 
 assured her in the strongest terms, that her repugnance to 
 the baronet was unalterable, yet told her she might claim 
 from her every good office that was not wholly unreasonable. 
 
 These were words of slender comfort to Mrs. Harrel, who 
 well knew that her wishes and reasonjiad but little affinity, 
 and she soon, therefore, left the room. 
 
 Cecilia then resolved to go instantly to Mrs. Delvile, ac- 
 quaint her with the necessity of her removal, and make her 
 decision whither, according to the manner in which her in- 
 telligence should be received. 
 
 She sent, therefore, to order a chair, and was already in 
 the hall, when she was stopt by the entrance of Mr. Monck- 
 ton, who, addressing her with a look of haste and earnest- 
 ness, said, " I will not ask whither you are going so early, 
 or upon what errand, for I must beg a moment's audience, 
 be your business what it may." 
 
 Cecilia then accompanied him to the deserted breakfast- 
 room, which none but the servants had this morning entered ; 
 and there, grasping her hand, he said, " Miss Beverley, you 
 must fly this house directly ! it is the region of disorder and 
 licentiousness, and unfit to contain you." 
 
 She assured him she was that moment preparing to quit 
 it, but begged he would explain himself. 
 
 " I have taken care," he answered, " for some time past, 
 to be well informed of all the proceedings of Mr. Harrel ; 
 and the intelligence I procured this morning is of the most 
 alarming nature. I find he spent the night before the last 
 entirely at a gaming-table, where, intoxicated by a run of
 
 360 CECILIA. 
 
 good luck, he passed the whole of the next day in rioting 
 with his profligate intimates ; and last night, returning 
 again to his favourite amusement, he not only lost all he had 
 gained, but much more than he could pay. Doubt not, 
 therefore, but you will be called upon to assist him : he still 
 considers you as his resource in times of danger, and while 
 he knows you are under his roof, he will always believe him- 
 self secure." 
 
 "Every thing indeed conspires," said Cecilia, more 
 shocked than surprised at this account, " to make it 
 necessary I should quit his house : yet I do not think he 
 has at present any further expectations from me, as he 
 came into the room this morning not merely without 
 speaking to me, but behaved with a brutality to Mrs. 
 Harrel that he must be certain would give me disgust. 
 It showed me, indeed, a new part of his character ; for ill 
 as I have long thought of him, I did not suspect he could 
 be guilty of such unnianly cruelty." 
 
 "The character of a gamester," said Mr. Monckton, " de- 
 pends solely upon his luck ; his disposition varies with 
 every throw of the dice ; and he is airy, gay and good- 
 humoured, or sour, morose and savage, neither from nature 
 nor from principle, but wholly by the caprice of chance." 
 
 Cecilia then related to him the scene in which she had 
 just been engaged with Sir Robert Floyer. 
 
 " This," dried he, "is a manoeuvre I have been some time 
 expecting : but Mr. Harrel, though artful and selfish, is by 
 no means deep. The plan he had formed would have suc- 
 ceeded with some women, and he therefore concluded it 
 would with all. So many of your sex have been subdued 
 by perseverance, and so many have been conquered by 
 boldness, that he supposed when he united two such power- 
 ful besiegers in the person of a baronet, he should van- 
 quish all obstacles. By assuring you that the world thought 
 the marriage already settled, he hoped to surprise you 
 into believing there was no help for it, and by the sudden- 
 ness and vehemence of the attack, to frighten and hurry 
 you into compliance. His own wife, he knew, might have 
 been managed thus with ease, and so, probably, might his 
 sister, and his mother, and his cousin ; for in love matters, 
 or what are so called, women in general are readily duped.
 
 CECILIA. 361 
 
 He discerned not the superiority of your understanding to 
 tricks so shallow and impertinent, nor the firmness of your 
 mind in maintaining its own independence. No doubt but 
 he was amply to have been rewarded for his assistance ; and 
 probably had you this morning been propitious, the baronet, 
 in return, was to have cleared him from his present diffi- 
 culty." 
 
 " Even in my own mind," said Cecilia, " I can no longer 
 defend him ; for he could never have been so eager to pro- 
 mote the interest of Sir Robert, in the present terrible 
 situation of his own affairs, had he not been stimulated by 
 some secret motives. His schemes and his artifices, how- 
 ever, will now be utterly lost upon me, since your warning 
 and advice, aided by my own suffering experience of the 
 inutility of all I can do for him, will effectually guard me 
 from all his future attempts." 
 
 " Rest no security upon yourself," said Mr. Monckton, 
 " since you have no knowledge of the many tricks and in- 
 ventions by which you may be plundered. Perhaps he may 
 beg permission to reside in your house in Suffolk, or desire 
 an annuity for his wife, or choose to receive your first rents 
 when you come of age ; and whatever he may fix upon, his 
 dagger and his bowl will not fail to procure him. A heart 
 so liberal as yours can only be guarded by flight. You were 
 going, you said, when I came and whither ?" 
 
 " To to St. James's-square," answered she, with a deep 
 blush. 
 
 " Indeed ! is young Del vile, then, going abroad ? " 
 
 "Abroad? no, I believe not." 
 
 " Nay, I only imagined it from your choosing to reside 
 in his house." 
 
 " I do not choose it," cried Cecilia, with quickness ; " but 
 is not any thing preferable to dwelling with Mr. Briggs ? " 
 
 "Certainly," said Mr. Monckton, coolly; "nor should I 
 have supposed he had any chance with you, had I not 
 hitherto observed that your convenience has always been 
 sacrificed to your sense of propriety." 
 
 Cecilia, touched by praise so full of censure, and earnest 
 to vindicate her delicacy, after an internal struggle, which 
 Mr. Monckton was too subtle to interrupt, protested she 
 would go instantly to Mr. Briggs, and see if it were pos-
 
 362 CECILIA. 
 
 sible to be settled in his house, before she made any attempt 
 to fix herself elsewhere. 
 
 " And when ? " said Mr. Monckton. 
 
 " I don't know," answered she, with some hesitation, 
 " perhaps this afternoon." 
 
 " Why not this morning ?" 
 
 " I can go out no where this morning ; I must stay with 
 Mrs. Harrel." 
 
 " You thought otherwise when I came ; you were then 
 Content to leave her." 
 
 Cecilia's alacrity, however, for changing her abode, was 
 now at an end, and she would fain have been left quietly to 
 re-consider her plans : but Mr. Monckton urged so strongly 
 the danger of her lengthened stay in the house of so design- 
 ing a man as Mr. Harrel, that he prevailed with her to quit 
 it without delay, and had himself the satisfaction of handing 
 her to her chair. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A MISER'S MANSION. 
 
 MB. BRIGGS was at home, and Cecilia instantly and 
 briefly informed him that it was inconvenient for her 
 to live any longer at Mr. Harrel's, and that if she could be 
 accommodated at his house, she should be glad to reside 
 with him during the rest of her minority. 
 
 " Shall, shall," cried he, extremely pleased, " take you 
 with all my heart. Warrant master Harrel's made a good 
 penny of you. Not a bit the better for dressing so fine ; 
 many a rogue in a gold lace hat." 1 
 
 1 Saturday, December 28,1782. " Sir Joshua[Reynolds]had two snuff- 
 boxes in use, a gold and a tin one ; I examined them, and asked why he 
 made use of such a vile and shabby tin one. ' Why,' said he, laughing, 
 ' because I naturally love a little of the blackguard. Ay, and so do you 
 too, little as you look as if you did, and all the people all day long are 
 saying, where can you have seen such company as you treat us with ?' 
 ' Why you have seen such, Sir Joshua,' said Mr. West, taking up the tin 
 snuff-box, ' for this box you mnst certainly have picked up at Briggs's 
 sale.'" Diary of Mine. D'Arblay, page 218, vol. ii.
 
 CECILIA. 
 
 Cecilia begged to know what apartments he could spare 
 for her. 
 
 " Take you up stairs," cried he ; " show you a place for a 
 queen." 
 
 He then led her up stairs, and took her to a room entirely 
 dark, and so close for want of air, that she could hardly 
 breathe in it. She retreated to the landing-place till he had 
 opened the shutters, and then saw an apartment the most 
 forlorn she had ever beheld, containing no other furniture 
 than a ragged stuff bed, two worn-out rush-bottomed chairs, 
 an old wooden box, and a bit of broken glass which was 
 fastened to the wall by two bent nails. 
 
 " See here, my little chick," cried he, "every thing ready I 
 and a box for your gimcracks into the bargain." 
 
 " You don't mean this place for me, sir ! " cried Cecilia, 
 staring. 
 
 " Do, do," cried he, " a deal nicer by and by. Only wants 
 a little furbishing : soon put to rights. Never sweep a room 
 out of use ; only wears out brooms for nothing." 
 
 " But, sir, can I not have an apartment on the first 
 floor?" 
 
 " N"o, no, something else to do with it ; belongs to the 
 club ; secrets in all things ! Make this do well enough. 
 Come again next week ; wear quite a new face. Nothing 
 wanting but a table ; pick you up one at a broker's." 
 
 " But I am obliged, sir, to leave Mr. Barrel's house 
 directly." 
 
 " Well, well, make shift without a table at first ; no great 
 matter if you ha'n't one at all, nothing particular to do with 
 it. Want another blanket, though. Know where to get 
 one ; a very good broker hard by. Understand how to deal 
 with him ! A close dog, but warm." 
 
 " I have also two servants, sir," said Cecilia. 
 
 " Won't have 'em ! Sha'n't come ! Eat me out of house 
 and home." 
 
 " Whatever they eat, sir," answered she, " will be wholly 
 at my expense, as will everything else that belongs to them." 
 
 " Better get rid of them : hate servants ; all a pack of 
 rogues ; think of nothing but stuffing and guttling." 
 
 Then, opening another door, " See here," he cried, "my 
 own room just by ; snug as a church ! "
 
 364 CECILIA. 
 
 Cecilia, following him into it, lost a great part of her 
 surprise at the praise he had lavished upon that which he 
 destined for herself, by perceiving that his own was yet 
 more scantily furnished, having nothing in it but a miserable 
 bed without any curtains, and a large chest, which, while it 
 contained his clothes, sufficed both for table and chair. 
 
 " What are doing here ? " cried he angrily, to a maid who 
 was making the bed ; " can't you take more care ? beat out 
 all the feathers ; see ! two on the ground ; nothing but 
 waste and extravagance ! never mind how soon a man's 
 ruined. Come to want, you slut, see that, come to want!" 
 
 " I can never want more than I do here," said the girl, 
 " so that's one comfort." 
 
 Cecilia now began to repent she had made known the 
 purport of her visit, for she found it would be utterly im- 
 possible to accommodate either her mind or her person to a 
 residence such as was here to be obtained : and she only 
 wished Mr. Monckton had been present, that he might him- 
 self be convinced of the impracticability of his scheme. 
 Her whole business, therefore, now, was to retract her offer, 
 and escape from the house. 
 
 " I see, sir," said she, when he turned from his servant, 
 " that I cannot be received here without inconvenience, and 
 therefore I will make some new arrangement in my plan." 
 
 " No, no," cried he, " like to have you, 'tis but fair, all in 
 our turn ; won't be choused ; Master Barrel's had his share. 
 Sorry could not get you that sweet-heart ! would not bite ; 
 soon find out another ; never fret." 
 
 " But there are so many things with which I cannot pos- 
 sibly dispense," said Cecilia, "that I am certain my removing 
 hither would occasion you far more trouble than you at pre- 
 sent foresee." 
 
 " No, no ; get all in order soon : go about myself ; know 
 how to bid ; understand trap ; always go shabby ; no making 
 a bargain in a good coat. Look sharp at the goods ; say 
 they won't do; come away; send somebody else for 'em. 
 never go twice myself ; nothing got cheap if one seems to 
 have a hankering." 
 
 " But I am sure it is not possible," said Cecilia, hurrying 
 down stairs, " that my room, and one for each of my ser- 
 vants, should be ready in time."
 
 CECILIA. 365 
 
 "Yes, yes," cried he, following her, "ready in a trice. 
 Make a little shift at first ; double the blanket till we g3t 
 another ; lie with the maid a night or two ; never stand for 
 a trifle." 
 
 And, when she was seated in her chair, the whole time 
 disclaiming her intention of returning, he only pinched her 
 cheek with a facetious smirk, and said, " By, by, little duck ; 
 come again soon. Warrant I'll have the room ready. 
 Sha'n't half know it again ; make it as smart as a carrot." 
 
 And then she left the house ; fully satisfied that no one 
 could blame her refusing to inhabit it, and much less 
 chagrined than she was willing to suppose herself, in find- 
 ing she had now no resource but in the Delviles. 
 
 Yet, in her serious reflections, she could not but think 
 herself strangely unfortunate that the guardian with whom 
 alone it seemed proper for her to reside, should by parsi- 
 mony, vulgarity, and meanness, render riches contemptible, 
 prosperity unavailing, and economy odious ; and that the 
 choice of her uncle should thus unhappily have fallen upon 
 the lowest and most wretched of misers, in a city abounding 
 with opulence, hospitality, and splendour, and of which the 
 principal inhabitants, long eminent for their wealth and 
 their probity, were now almost universally rising in ele- 
 gance and liberality. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A DECLARATION. 
 
 /CECILIA'S next progress, therefore, was to St. James's- 
 ^ square, whither she went in the utmost anxiety, from 
 her uncertainty of the reception with which her proposal 
 would meet. 
 
 The servants informed her that Mr. and Mrs. Delvile 
 were at breakfast, and that the Duke of Derwent and his 
 two daughters were with them. 
 
 Before such witnesses to relate the reasons of her leaving 
 the Barrels was impossible ; and from such a party to send 
 for Mrs. Delvile, would, by her stately guardian, be deemed
 
 366 CECILIA. 
 
 an indecorum unpardonable. She was obliged, therefore, 
 to return to Portman-square, in order to open her cause in 
 a letter to Mrs. Delvile. 
 
 Mr. Arnott, flying instantly to meet her, called out " 0, 
 madam, what alarm has your absence occasioned ! My 
 sister believed she should see you no more, Mr. Harrel 
 feared a premature discovery of his purposed retreat, and 
 we have all been under the cruellest apprehensions lest you 
 meant not to come back." 
 
 " I am sorry I spoke not with you before I went out," 
 said Cecilia, accompanying him to the library, " but I 
 thought you were all too much occupied to miss me. I 
 have been, indeed, preparing for a removal, but I meant 
 not to leave your sister without bidding her adieu, nor, 
 indeed, to quit any part of the family with so little cere- 
 mony. Is Mr. Harrel still firm to his last plan ? " 
 
 " I fear so ! I have tried what is possible to dissuade 
 him, and my poor sister has wept without ceasing. Indeed, 
 if she will take no consolation, I believe I shall do what 
 she pleases, for I cannot bear the sight of her in such 
 distress." 
 
 " You are too generous, and too good ! " said Cecilia, 
 " and I know not how, while flying from danger myself, 
 to forbear counselling you to avoid it also." 
 
 " Ah, madam ! " cried he, " the greatest danger for me 
 is what I have now no power to run from ! " 
 
 Cecilia, though she could not but understand him, felt 
 not the less his friend for knowing him the humblest of 
 her admirers ; and as she saw the threatening ruin to 
 which his too great tenderness exposed him, she kindly 
 said " Mr. Arnott, I will speak to you without reserve. 
 It is not difficult to see that the destruction which awaits 
 Mr. Harrel, is ready also to ensnare his brother-in-law : 
 but let not that blindness to the future which we have so 
 often lamented for him, hereafter be lamented for yourself. 
 Till his present connexions are broken, and his way of 
 living is changed, nothing can be done for him, and whatever 
 you were to advance, would merely be sunk at the gaming 
 table. Reserve, therefore, your liberality till it may indeed 
 be of service to him, for believe me, at present, his mind 
 is as much injured as his fortune."
 
 CECILIA. 367 
 
 " And is it possible, madam," said Mr. Arnott, in an 
 accent of surprise and delight, " that you can deign to be 
 interested in what may become of me ! and that my sharing 
 or escaping the ruin of this house is not wholly indifferent 
 to you ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," answered Cecilia ; " as the brother of 
 my earliest friend, I can never be insensible to your wel- 
 fare." 
 
 "Ah, madam ! " cried he, "as her brother ! Oh that 
 
 there were any other tie ! " 
 
 " Think a little," said Cecilia, preparing to quit the 
 room, " of what I have mentioned, and, for your sister's 
 sake, be firm now, if you would be kind hereafter." 
 
 " I will be any and every thing," cried he, " that Miss 
 Beverley will command." 
 
 Cecilia, fearful of any misinterpretation, then came back, 
 and gravely said, "No, sir, be ruled only by your own 
 judgment : or, should my advice have any weight with 
 you, remember it is given from the most disinterested 
 motives, and with no other view than that of securing your 
 power to be of service to your sister." 
 
 " For that sister's sake, then, have the goodness to 
 hear my situation, and honour me with further direc- 
 tions." 
 
 " You will make me fear to speak," said Cecilia, " if you 
 give so much consequence to my opinion. I have seen, 
 however, nothing in your conduct I have ever wished 
 changed, except too little attention to your own interest 
 and affairs." 
 
 " Ah ! " cried he, " with what rapture should I hear 
 those words, could I but imagine ' 
 
 " Come, come," said Cecilia, smiling, " no digression ! 
 You called me back to talk of your sister ; if you change 
 your subject, perhaps you may lose your auditor." 
 
 " I would not, madam, for the world, encroach upon your 
 goodness ; the favour I have found has indeed always ex- 
 ceeded my expectations, as it has always surpassed my 
 desert : yet has it never blinded me to my own unworthi- 
 ness. Do not, then, fear to indulge me with your conver- 
 sation ; I shall draw from it no inference but of pity, 
 and though pity from Miss Beverley is the sweetest balm
 
 308 CECILIA. 
 
 to my heart, it shall never seduce me to the encouragement 
 of higher hopes." 
 
 Cecilia had long had reason to expect such a declaration, 
 yet she heard it with unaffected concern, and looking at 
 him with the. utmost gentleness, said, "Mr. Arnott, your 
 regard does me honour, and, were it somewhat more 
 rational, would give me pleasure ; take, then, from it what 
 is niore than I wish or merit, and, while you preserve the 
 rest, be assured it will be faithfully returned." 
 
 " Your rejection is so mild," cried he, " that I, who had 
 no hope of acceptance, find relief in having at last told my 
 sufferings. Could I but continue to see you every day, 
 and to be blest with your conversation, I think I should 
 be happy, and I am sure I should be grateful." 
 
 " You are already," answered she, shaking her head, and 
 moving towards the door, " infringing the conditions upon 
 which our friendship is to be founded." 
 
 " Do not go, madam," he cried, "till I have done what 
 you have just promised to permit, acquainted you with my 
 situation, and been honoured with your advice. I must 
 own to you, then, that 5,000 which I had in the stocks, 
 as well as a considerable sum in a banker's hands, I have 
 parted with, as I now find for ever : but I have no heart 
 for refusal, nor would my sister at this moment be thus 
 distressed, but that I have nothing more to give without I 
 cut down my trees, or sell some farm, since all I was 
 worth, except my landed property, is already gone. What, 
 therefore, I can now do to save Mr. Harrel from this 
 desperate expedition I know not." 
 
 " I am sorry," said Cecilia, " to speak with severity of 
 one so nearly connected with you, yet, suffer me to ask, 
 why should he be saved from it at all ? and what is there 
 he can at present do better ? Has not he long been 
 threatened with every evil that is now arrived ? have we 
 not both warned him, and have not the clamours of his 
 creditors assailed him ? yet what has been the consequence ? 
 he has not submitted to the smallest change in his way of 
 life, he has not denied himself a single indulgence, nor 
 spared any expense, nor thought of any reformation. 
 Luxury has followed luxury, and he has only grown fonder 
 of extravagance, as extravagance has become more dan-
 
 CECILIA. 369 
 
 gerous. Till the present storm, therefore, blows over, 
 leave him to his fate, and when a calm succeeds, I will 
 myself, for the sake of Priscilla, aid you to save what is 
 possible of the wreck." 
 
 " All you say, madam, is as wise as it is good, and now 
 I am acquainted with your opinion, I will wholly new 
 model myself upon it, and grow as steady against all 
 attacks as hitherto I have been yielding." 
 
 Cecilia was then retiring ; but again detaining her, he 
 said, " You spoke, madam, of a removal, and indeed it is 
 high time you should quit this scene ; yet I hope you in- 
 tend not to go till to-morrow, as Mr. Harrel has declared 
 your leaving him sooner will be his destruction." 
 
 " Heaven forbid," said Cecilia, "for I mean to be gone 
 with all the speed in my power." 
 
 "Mr. Harrel," answered he, "did not explain himself; 
 but I believe he apprehends your deserting his house at 
 this critical time will raise a suspicion of his own design 
 of going abroad, and make his creditors interfere to pre- 
 vent him." 
 
 " To what a wretched state," cried Cecilia, " has he 
 reduced himself ! I will not, however, be the voluntary 
 instrument of his disgrace ; and if you think my stay is 
 so material to his security, I will continue here till to- 
 morrow morning." 
 
 Mr. Arnott almost wept his thanks for this concession, 
 and Cecilia, happy in making it to him instead of Mr. Harrel, 
 then went to her own room, and wrote the following letter 
 to Mrs. Delvile. 
 
 To the Hon. Mrs. DELTILE, St. James's-square. 
 
 Portman-square, June 12. 
 Dear Madam, 
 
 I AM willing to hope you have been rather surprised that 
 I have not sooner availed myself of the permission with 
 which you yesterday honoured me of spending this whole 
 day with yon, but, unfortunately for myself, I am pre- 
 vented waiting upon you even for any part of it. Do not, 
 however, think me now ungrateful if I stay away, nor to- 
 morrow impertinent, if I venture to enquire whether that 
 
 B B
 
 370 CECILIA. 
 
 apartment which, you had once the goodness to appropriate 
 to my use, may then again be spared for me ! The acci- 
 dents which have prompted this strange request will, I 
 trust, be sufficient apology for the liberty I take in making 
 it, when I have the honour to see you, and acquaint you 
 what they are. I am with the utmost respect, 
 Dear Madam, 
 
 your most obedient, 
 
 humble servant, 
 
 CECILIA BEVERLEY. 
 
 She would not have been thus concise, had not the caution 
 of Mr. Arnott made her fear, in the present perilous situa- 
 tion of affairs, to trust the secret of Mr. Harrel to paper. 
 
 The following answer was returned her from Mrs. Delvile. 
 
 To Miss BEVERLEY, Portman-square. 
 
 THE accidents you mention, are not, I hope, of a very 
 serious nature, since I shall find difficulty insurmountable 
 in trying to lament them, if they are productive of a 
 lengthened visit from my dear Miss Beverley to her 
 Faithful humble Servant, 
 
 AUGUSTA DELVILE. 
 
 Cecilia, charmed with this note, could now no longer forbear 
 looking forward to brighter prospects, flattering herself that 
 once under the roof of Mrs. Delvile, she must necessarily be 
 happy, let the engagements or behaviour of her son be 
 what they might. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A GAMESTER'S CONSCIENCE. 
 
 FROM this soothing prospect, Cecilia was presently 
 disturbed by Mrs. Harrel's maid, who came to entreat 
 she would hasten to her lady, whom she feared was going 
 into fits.
 
 CECILIA. 371 
 
 Cecilia flew to her immediately, and found her in the 
 most violent affliction. She used every kind effort in her 
 power to quiet and console her, but it was not without the 
 utmost difficulty she could sob out the cause of this fresh 
 sorrow, which indeed was not trifling. Mr. Harrel, she 
 said, had told her he could not possibly raise money even 
 for his travelling expenses, without risking a discovery of his 
 project, and being seized by his creditors ; he had therefore 
 charged her, through her brother or her friend, to procure for 
 him 3,000, as less would not suffice to maintain them 
 while abroad, and he knew no method by which he could 
 have any remittances without danger. And, when she 
 hesitated in her compliance, he furiously accused her of 
 having brought on all this distress by her negligence and 
 want of management, and declared that if she did not get 
 the money, she would only be served as she merited by 
 starving in a foreign gaol, which he swore would be the 
 fate of them both. 
 
 The horror and indignation with which Cecilia heard 
 this account were unspeakable. She saw evidently that she 
 was again to be played upon by terror and distress, and 
 the cautions and opinions of Mr. Monckton no longer 
 appeared overstrained ; one year's income was already de- 
 manded, the annuity and the country house might next 
 be required : she rejoiced, however, that thus wisely fore- 
 warned, she was not liable to surprise, and she determined, 
 be their entreaties or representations what they might, to 
 be immovably steady in her purpose of leaving them the 
 next morning. 
 
 Yet she could not but grieve at suffering the whole bur- 
 then of this clamorous imposition to fall upon the soft- 
 hearted Mr. Arnott, whose inability to resist solicitation 
 made him so unequal to sustaining its weight : but when 
 Mrs. Harrel was again able to go on with her account, she 
 heard, to her infinite surprise, that all application to her 
 brother had proved fruitless. " He will not hear me," con- 
 tinued Mrs. Harrel, " and he never was deaf to me before ! 
 so now I have lost my only and last resource, my brother 
 himself gives me up, and there is no one else upon earth 
 who will assist me ! " 
 
 "With pleasure, with readiness, with joy," cried Cecilia,
 
 372 CECILIA. 
 
 " should you find assistance from me, were it to you alone 
 it were given ; but to supply fuel for the very fire that is 
 consuming you no, no, my whole heart is hardened against 
 gaming and gamesters, and neither now or ever will I 
 suffer any consideration to soften me in their favour." 
 
 Mrs. Harrel only answered by tears and lamentations ; 
 and Cecilia, whose justice shut not out compassion, having 
 now declared her purposed firmness, again attempted to 
 sooth her, entreating her not to give way to such immo- 
 derate grief, since better prospects might arise from the 
 very gloom now before her, and a short time spent in 
 solitude and economy, might enable her to return to her 
 native land with recovered happiness. 
 
 " No, I shall never return ! " cried she, weeping, " I shall 
 die, I shall break my heart before I have been banished a 
 month ! Oh, Miss Beverley, how happy are you ! able to 
 stay where you please, rich, rolling in wealth which you 
 do not want of which had we but one year's income only, 
 all this misery would be over, and we might stay in our 
 dear, dear country ! " 
 
 Cecilia, struck by a hint that so nearly bordered upon 
 reproach, and offended by seeing the impossibility of ever 
 doing enough, while any thing remained to be done, forbore 
 not without difficulty enquiring what next was expected 
 from her, and whether any part of her fortune might be 
 guarded, without giving room for some censure ! but the 
 deep affliction of Mrs. Harrel soon removed her resentment, 
 and scarcely thinking her, while in a state of such wretched- 
 ness, answerable for what she said, after a little recollection, 
 she mildly replied "As affluence is all comparative, you may 
 at present think I have more than my share : but the time 
 is only this moment past, when your own situation seemed 
 as subject to the envy of others as mine may be now. My 
 future destiny is yet undetermined, and the occasion I may 
 have for my fortune is unknown to myself ; but whether I 
 possess it in peace or in turbulence, whether it proves to 
 me a blessing or an injury, so long as I can call it my own, 
 I shall always remember with alacrity the claim upon that 
 and upon me which early friendship has so justly given Mrs. 
 Barrel. Yet permit me, at the same time, to add, that I 
 do not hold myself so entirely independent as you may pro-
 
 CECILIA. 373 
 
 bably suppose me. I have not, it is true, any relations to 
 call me to account, but respect for their memory supplies 
 the place of their authority, and I cannot, in the distribu- 
 tion of the fortune which has devolved to me, forbear 
 sometimes considering how they would have wished it 
 should be spent, and always remembering that what was 
 acquired by industry and labour, should never be dissipated 
 in idleness and vanity. Forgive me for thus speaking to 
 the point ; you will not find me less friendly to yourself, for 
 this frankness with respect to your situation." 
 
 Tears were again the only answer of Mrs. Harrel ; yet 
 Cecilia, who pitied the weakness of her mind, stayed by 
 her with the most patient kindness till the servants an- 
 nounced dinner. She then declared she would not go down 
 stairs : but Cecilia so strongly represented the danger of 
 awakening suspicion in the servants that she at last pre- 
 vailed with her to make her appearance. 
 
 Mr. Harrel was already in the parlour, and enquiring for 
 Mr. Arnott, but was told by the servants he had sent word 
 he had another engagement. Sir Robert Floyer also kept 
 away, and, for the first time since her arrival in town, 
 Cecilia dined with no other company than the master and 
 mistress of the house. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel could eat nothing ; Cecilia, merely to avoid 
 creating surprise in the servants, forbore following her ex- 
 ample ; but Mr. Harrel eat much as usual, talked all dinner 
 time, was extremely civil to Cecilia, and discovered not by 
 his manners the least alteration in his affairs. 
 
 When the servants were gone, he desired his wife to step 
 for a moment with him into the library. They soon re- 
 turned, and then Mr. Harrel, after walking in a disordered 
 manner about the room, rang the bell, and ordered his hat 
 and cane, and as he took them, said " If this fails " and, 
 stopping short, without speaking to his wife, or even bowing 
 to Cecilia, he hastily went out of the house. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel told Cecilia that he had merely called her to 
 know the event of her two petitions, and had heard her 
 double failure in total silence. Whither he was now gone 
 it was not easy to conjecture, nor what was the new re- 
 source which he still seemed to think worth trying ; but the 
 manner of his quitting the house, and the threat implied
 
 374 CECILIA. 
 
 by if this fails, contributed not to lessen the grief of Mrs. 
 Harrel, and gave to Cecilia herself the utmost alarm. 
 
 They continued together till tea-time, the servants hav- 
 ing been ordered to admit no company. Mr. Harrel himself 
 then returned, and returned, to the amazement of Cecilia, 
 accompanied by Mr. Marriot. 
 
 He presented that young man to both the ladies as a 
 gentleman whose acquaintance and friendship he was very 
 desirous to cultivate. Mrs. Harrel, too much absorbed in 
 her own affairs to care about any other, saw his entrance 
 with a momentary surprise, and then thought of it no 
 more ; but it was not so with Cecilia, whose better under- 
 standing led her to deeper reflection. 
 
 Even the visits of Mr. Marriot but a few weeks since 
 Mr. Harrel had prohibited, yet he now introduced him into 
 his house with particular distinction ; he came back too 
 himself in admirable spirits, enlivened in his countenance, 
 and restored to his good humour. A change so extraordi- 
 nary, both in conduct and disposition, convinced her that 
 some change no less extraordinary of circumstance must 
 previously have happened : what that might be it was not 
 possible for her to divine, but the lessons she had received 
 from Mr. Monckton led her to suspicions of the darkest 
 kind. 
 
 Every part of his behaviour served still further to con- 
 firm them ; he was civil even to excess to Mr. Marriot ; he 
 gave orders aloud not to be at home to Sir Robert Floyer ; 
 he made his court to Cecilia with unusual assiduity, and he 
 took every method in his power to procure opportunity to 
 her admirer of addressing and approaching her. 
 
 The young man, who seemed enamoured even to madness, 
 could scarce refrain not merely from prostration to the 
 object of his passion, but to Mr. Haire! himself for per- 
 mitting him to see her. Cecilia, who not. without some 
 concern perceived a fondness so fruitless, and who knew 
 not by what arts or with what views Mr. Harrel might 
 think proper to encourage it, determined to take all the 
 means that were in her own power towards giving it im- 
 mediate control. She behaved, therefore, with the utmost 
 reserve, and the moment tea was over, though earnestly 
 entreated to remain with them, she retired to her own
 
 CECILIA. 375 
 
 room, without making any other apology than coldly say- 
 ing she could not stay. 
 
 In about an hour Mrs. Harrel ran up stairs to her. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Beverley," she cried, "a little respite is now 
 granted me ! Mr. Harrel says he shall stay another day ; 
 he says, too, one single thousand pounds would now make 
 him a new man." 
 
 Cecilia returned no answer ; she conjectured some new 
 deceit was in agitation to raise money, and she feared Mr. 
 Marriot was the next dupe to be played upon. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, therefore, with a look of the utmost disap- 
 pointment, left her, saying she would send for her brother, 
 and once more try if he had yet any remaining regard for 
 her. 
 
 Cecilia rested quiet till eleven o'clock, when she was 
 summoned to supper : she found Mr. Marriot still the only 
 guest, and that Mr. Arnott made not his appearance. 
 
 She now resolved to publish her resolution of going the 
 next morning to St. James's-square. As soon, therefore, 
 as the servants withdrew, she enquired of Mr. Harrel if he 
 had any commands with Mr. or Mrs. Delvile, as she should 
 see them the next morning, and purposed to spend some 
 time with them. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, with a look of much alarm, asked if she 
 meant the whole day. 
 
 Many days, she answered, and probably some months. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel exclaimed her surprise aloud, and Mr. 
 Harrel looked aghast; while his new young friend cast 
 upon him a glance of reproach and resentment, which fully 
 convinced Cecilia he imagined he had procured himself a 
 title to an easiness of intercourse and frequency of meeting 
 which this intelligence destroyed. 
 
 Cecilia, thinking, after all that had passed, no other cere- 
 mony on her part was necessary but that of simply speaking 
 her intention, then arose and returned to her own room. 
 
 She acquainted her maid that she was going to make a 
 visit to Mrs. Delvile, and gave her directions about packing 
 up her clothes, and sending for a man in the morning to 
 take care of her books. 
 
 This employment was soon interrupted by the entrance 
 of Mrs. Harrel, who, desiring to speak with her alone, when
 
 876 CECILIA. 
 
 the maid was gone, said " 0, Miss Beverley, can you indeed 
 be so barbarous as to leave me ? " 
 
 " I entreat you, Mrs. Harrel," answered Cecilia, " to save 
 both yourself and me any further discussions. I have de- 
 layed this removal very long, and I can now delay it no 
 longer." 
 
 Mrs. Harrel then flung herself upon a chair in the 
 bitterest sorrow, declaring she was utterly undone ; that 
 Mr. Harrel had declared he could not stay even an hour in 
 England if she was not in his house ; that he had already 
 had a violent quarrel with Mr. Marriot upon the subject ; 
 and that her brother, though she had sent him the most 
 earnest entreaties, would not come near her. 
 
 Cecilia, tired of vain attempts to offer comfort, now urged 
 the warmest expostulations against her opposition, strongly 
 representing the real necessity of her going abroad, and the 
 unpardonable weakness of wishing to continue such a life 
 as she now led, adding debt to debt, and hoarding distress 
 upon distress. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel then, though rather from compulsion than 
 conviction, declared she would agree to go, if she had not a 
 dread of ill usage ; but Mr. Harrel, she said, had behaved 
 to her with the utmost brutality, calling her the cause of 
 his ruin, and threatening that if she procured not this thou- 
 sand pounds before the ensuing evening, she should be treated 
 as she deserved for her extravagance and folly. 
 
 " Does he think, then," said Cecilia with the utmost in- 
 dignation, " that I am to be frightened through your fears 
 into what compliances he pleases ?" 
 
 "0 no," cried Mrs. Harrel, "no; his expectations are 
 all from my brother. He surely thought that when I sup- 
 plicated and pleaded to him, he would do what I wished, 
 for so he always did formerly, and so once again I am sure 
 he will do now, could I but make him come to me, and tell 
 him how I am used, and tell him that if Mr. Harrel takes 
 me abroad in this humour, I verily think in his rage he will 
 half murder me." 
 
 Cecilia, who well knew she was herself the real cause of 
 Mr. Arnott's resistance, now felt her resolution waver, in- 
 ternally reproaching herself with the sufferings of his sister ; 
 alarmed, however, for her own constancy, she earnestly be-
 
 CECILIA. 377 
 
 sought Mrs. Harrel to go and compose herself for the 
 night, and promised to deliberate what could be done for 
 her before morning. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel complied ; but scarce was her own rest more 
 broken than that of Cecilia, who, though extremely fatigued 
 with a whole night's watching, was so perturbed in her 
 mind she could not close her eyes. Mrs. Harrel was her 
 earliest, and had once been her dearest friend ; she had 
 deprived her by her own advice of her customary refuge in 
 her brother ; to refuse, therefore, assistance, to her seemed 
 cruelty, though to deny it to Mr. Harrel was justice ; she 
 endeavoured, therefore, to make a compromise between her 
 judgment and compassion, by resolving that though she 
 would grant nothing further to Mr. Harrel while he re- 
 mained in London, she would contribute from time to time 
 both to his necessities and comfort, when once he was 
 established elsewhere upon some plan of prudence and 
 economy. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 A PERSECUTION. 
 
 THE next morning by five o'clock Mrs. Harrel came into 
 Cecilia's room to know the result of her deliberation ; 
 and Cecilia, with that graceful readiness which accompanied 
 all her kind offices, instantly assured her the thousand pounds 
 should be her own, if she would consent to seek some quiet 
 retreat, and receive it in small sums, of fifty or one hundred 
 pounds at a time, which should be carefully transmitted, 
 and which, by being delivered to herself, might secure 
 better treatment from Mr. Harrel, and be a motive to revive 
 his care and affection. 
 
 She flew, much delighted, with this proposal to her hus- 
 band ; but presently, and with a dejected look, returning, 
 said Mr. Harrel protested he could not possibly set out 
 without first receiving the money. " I shall go myself, 
 therefore," said she, " to my brother after breakfast, for he 
 will not, I see, unkind as he is grown, come to me ; and if
 
 378 CECILIA. 
 
 I do not succeed with, him, I believe I shall never come 
 back!" 
 
 To this Cecilia, offended and disappointed, answered " I 
 am sorry for Mr. Arnott, but for myself I have done ! " 
 
 Mrs. Harrel then left her, and she arose to make imme- 
 diate preparations for her removal to St. James's-square, 
 whither, with all the speed in her power, she sent her books, 
 her trunks, and all that belonged to her. 
 
 When she was summoned down stairs, she found, for 
 the first time, Mr. Harrel breakfasting at the same table 
 with his wife: they seemed mutually out of humour and 
 comfortless ; nothing hardly was spoken, and little was 
 swallowed : Mr. Harrel, however, was civil, but his wife 
 was totally silent, and Cecilia the whole time was planning 
 how to take her leave. 
 
 When the tea things were removed, Mr. Harrel said 
 " You have not, I hope, Miss Beverley, quite determined 
 upon this strange scheme ? " 
 
 " Indeed I have, sir," she answered, " and already I 
 have sent my clothes." 
 
 At this information he seemed thunderstruck ; but, after 
 somewhat recovering, said, with much bitterness, " Well, 
 madam, at least may I request you will stay here till the 
 evening ? " 
 
 " No, sir," answered she coolly, " I am going instantly." 
 
 "And will you not," said he, with yet greater asperity, 
 " amuse yourself first with seeing bailiffs take possession 
 of my house, and your friend Priscilla follow me to jail ? " 
 
 " Good God, Mr. Harrel ! " exclaimed Cecilia, with up- 
 lifted hands, " is this a question, is this behaviour I have 
 merited ? " 
 
 " O no ! " cried he with quickness, " should I once think 
 
 that way " then rising and striking his forehead, he 
 
 walked about the room. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel arose too, and weeping violently went away. 
 
 "Will you at least," said Cecilia, when she was gone 
 " till your affairs are settled, leave Priscilla with me ? 
 When I go into my own house, she shall accompany me, 
 and, meantime, Mr. Arnott's, I am sure, will gladly be open 
 to her." 
 
 " No, no," answered he, " she deserves no such indnl-
 
 CECILIA. 379 
 
 gence ; she has not any reason to complain ; she has been 
 as negligent, as profuse, as expensive as myself ; she has 
 practised neither economy nor self-denial, she has neither 
 thought of me nor my affairs, nor is she now afflicted at 
 anything but the loss of that affluence she has done her 
 best towards diminishing." 
 
 " All recrimination," said Cecilia, " were vain, or what 
 might not Mrs. Harrel urge in return ! but let us not 
 enlarge upon so ungrateful a subject, the wisest and the 
 happiest scheme now were mutually and kindly to console 
 each other." 
 
 " Consolation and kindness," cried he with abruptness, 
 " are out of the question. I have ordered a post chaise to 
 be here at night, and if till then you will stay, I will pro- 
 mise to release you without further petition : if not, eternal 
 destruction be my portion if I live to see the scene which 
 your removal will occasion ! " 
 
 " My removal ! " cried Cecilia, shuddering, "good heaven, 
 and how can my removal be of such dreadful consequence ? " 
 
 "Ask me not," cried he, fiercely, " questions or reasons 
 now ; the crisis is at hand, and you will soon, happen what 
 may, know all : meantime, what I have said is a fact, and 
 immutable : and you must hasten my end, or give me a 
 chance for avoiding it, as you think fit. I scarce care at 
 this instant which way you decide : remember, however, 
 all I ask of you is to defer your departure ; what else I 
 have to hope is from Mr. Arnott." 
 
 He then left the room. 
 
 Cecilia now was again a coward ! In vain she called to 
 her support the advice, the prophecies, the cautions of Mr. 
 Monckton, in vain she recollected the impositions she had 
 already seen practised, for neither the warnings of her 
 counsellor, nor the lessons of her own experience, were 
 proofs against the terrors which threats so desperate in- 
 spired : and though more than once she determined to fly 
 at all events from a tyranny he had so little right to usurp, 
 the mere remembrance of the words if you stay not till night 
 I will not live, robbed her of all courage ; and however long 
 she had prepared herself for this very attack, when the 
 moment arrived, its power over her mind was too strong 
 for resistance.
 
 380 CECILIA. 
 
 Whilst this conflict between fear and resolution was still 
 undecided, her servant brought her the following letter 
 from Mr. Arnott. 
 
 To Miss BEVERLEY, Portman- square. 
 
 Madam, June 13th, 1779. 
 
 Determined to obey those commands which you had the 
 goodness to honour me with, I have absented myself from 
 town till Mr. Harrel is settled; for though I am as sensible 
 of your wisdom as of your beauty, I find myself too weak 
 to bear the distress of my unhappy sister, and therefore I 
 run from the sight, nor shall any letter or message follow 
 me, unless it comes from Miss Beverley herself, lest she 
 should in future refuse the only favour I dare presume to 
 solicit, that of sometimes deigning to honour with her 
 directions 
 
 The most humble 
 
 and devoted of her servants, 
 
 J. AKNOTT. 
 
 In the midst of her apprehensions for herself and her 
 own interest, Cecilia could not forbear rejoicing that Mr. 
 Arnott, at least, had escaped the present storm : yet she 
 was certain it would fall the more heavily upon herself, 
 and dreaded the sight of Mrs. Harrel after the shock which 
 this flight would occasion. 
 
 Her expectations were but too quickly fulfilled: Mrs. 
 Harrel in a short time after rushed wildly into the room, 
 calling out " My brother is gone ! he has left me for ever ! 
 Oh save me, Miss Beverley, save me from abuse and 
 insult! " And she wept with so much violence she could 
 titter nothing more. 
 
 Cecilia, quite tortured by this persecution, faintly asked 
 what she could do for her ? 
 
 " Send," cried she, " to my brother, and beseech him 
 not to abandon me ! send to him and conjure him to ad- 
 vance this thousand pounds ! the chaise is already ordered, 
 Mr. Harrel is fixed upon going, yet he says without 
 that money we must both starve in a strange land. O 
 send to rny cruel brother ! he has left word that nothing 
 must follow him that does not come from you."
 
 CECILIA. 381 
 
 " For the world, then," cried Cecilia, " would I not baffle 
 his discretion ! indeed you must submit to your fate, in- 
 deed Mrs. Harrel you must endeavour to bear it better." 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, shedding a flood of tears, declared she 
 would try to follow her advice, but again besought her 
 in the utmost agony to send after her brother, protesting 
 she did not think even her life would be safe in making 
 so long a journey with Mr. Harrel in his present state of 
 mind: his character, she said, was totally changed, his 
 gaiety, good humour and sprightliness were turned into 
 roughness and moroseness, and, since his great losses at 
 play, he was grown so fierce and furious, that to oppose 
 him even in a trifle, rendered him quite outrageous in 
 passion. 
 
 Cecilia, though truly concerned, and almost melted, yet 
 refused to interfere with Mr. Arnott, and even thought 
 it but justice to acknowledge she had advised his re- 
 treat. 
 
 " And can you have been so cruel ? " cried Mrs. Harrel, 
 with still encreasing violence of sorrow, " to rob me of my 
 only friend, to deprive me of my brother's affection, at the 
 very time I am forced out of the kingdom, with a husband 
 who is ready to murder me, and who says he hates the 
 sight of me, and all because I cannot get him this fatal, 
 fatal money ! O, Miss Beverley, how could I have thought 
 to have had such an office from you ? " 
 
 Cecilia was beginning a justification, when a message 
 came from Mr. Harrel, desiring to see his wife imme- 
 diately. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, in great terror, cast herself at Cecilia's feet, 
 and clinging to her knees, called out "I dare not go to 
 him ! I dare not go to him ! he wants to know my suc- 
 cess, and when he hears my brother is run away, I am sure 
 he will kill me ! Oh, Miss Beverley, how could you send 
 him away ? how could you be so inhuman as to leave 
 me to the rage of Mr. Harrel ? " 
 
 Cecilia, distressed and trembling herself, conjured her to 
 rise and be consoled ; but Mrs. Harrel, weak and frightened, 
 could only weep and supplicate : " I don't ask you," she 
 cried, " to give the money yourself, but only to send for 
 my brother, that he may protect me, and beg Mr. HarreJ
 
 382 CECILIA. 
 
 not to treat me so cruelly, consider but what a long, long 
 journey I am going to make ! consider how often you used 
 to say you would love me for ever ! consider you have 
 robbed me of the tenderest brother in the world ! Oh, 
 Miss Beverley, send for him back, or be a sister to me your- 
 self, and let not your poor Priscilla leave her native land 
 without help or pity ! " 
 
 Cecilia, wholly overcome, now knelt too, and embracing 
 her with tears, said, " Oh, Priscilla, plead and reproach 
 no more ! what you wish shall be yours, I will send for 
 your brother, I will do what you please ! " 
 
 " Now you are my friend indeed ! " cried Mrs. Harrel, 
 " let me but see my brother, and his heart will yield to my 
 distress, and he will soften Mr. Harrel by giving his un- 
 happy sister this parting bounty." 
 
 Cecilia then took a pen in her hand to write to Mr. 
 Arnott ; but struck almost in the same moment with a 
 notion of treachery, in calling him from a retreat which her 
 own counsel had made him seek, professedly to expose him 
 to a supplication which from his present situation might 
 lead him to ruin, she hastily flung it from her, and ex- 
 claimed, "No, excellent Mr. Arnott, I will not so unworthily 
 betray you ! " 
 
 "And can you, Miss Beverley, can you at last," cried 
 Mrs. Harrel, " be so barbarous as to retract ? " 
 
 "No, my poor Priscilla," answered Cecilia, "I cannot so 
 cruelly disappoint you ; my pity shall however make no 
 sufferer but myself, I cannot send for Mr. Arnott, from 
 me you must have the money, and may it answer the pur- 
 pose for which it is given, and restore to you the tenderness 
 of your husband, and the peace of your own heart ! " 
 
 Priscilla, scarce waiting to thank her, flew with this 
 intelligence to Mr. Harrel ; who, with the same impetuosity, 
 scarce waiting to say he was glad of it, ran himself to bring 
 the Jew from whom the money was to be procured. Every 
 thing was soon settled, Cecilia had no time for retracting, 
 and repentance they had not the delicacy to regard : again, 
 therefore, she signed her name for paying the principal 
 and interest of another 1,000 within ten days after she 
 was of age : and, having taken the money, she accompanied 
 Mr. and Mrs. Harrel into another room. Presenting it
 
 CECILIA. 383 
 
 then with an affecting solemnity to Mrs. Harrel, " accept, 
 Priscilla," she cried, "this irrefragable mark of the sincerity 
 of my friendship ; but suffer me at the same time to tell you, 
 it is the last to so considerable an amount I ever mean to 
 offer : receive it, therefore, with kindness, but use it with 
 discretion." 
 
 She then embraced her, and eager now to avoid acknow- 
 ledgment, as before she had been to escape importunities, 
 she left them together. 
 
 The soothing recompense of succouring benevolence, fol- 
 lowed not this gift, nor made amends for this loss : per- 
 plexity and uneasiness, regret and resentment, accompanied 
 the donation, and rested upon her mind ; she feared she 
 had done wrong ; she was certain Mr. Monckton would 
 blame her ; he knew not the persecution she suffered, nor 
 would he make any allowance for the threats which alarmed, 
 or the entreaties which melted her. 
 
 Far other had been her feelings at the generosity she 
 exerted for the Hills ; no doubts then tormented her, and 
 no repentance embittered her beneficence. Their worth 
 was without suspicion, and their misfortunes were not of 
 their own seeking ; the post in which they had been 
 stationed they had never deserted, and the poverty into 
 which they had sunk was accidental and unavoidable. 
 
 But here, every evil had been wantonly incurred by vanity 
 and licentiousness, and shamelessly followed by injustice 
 and fraud : the disturbance of her mind only increased by 
 reflection, for when the rights of the creditors with their 
 injuries occurred to her, she enquired of herself by what 
 title or equity, she had so liberally assisted Mr. Harrel in 
 eluding their claims, and flying the punishment which the 
 law would inflict. 
 
 Startled by this consideration, she most severely re- 
 proached herself for a compliance of which she had so 
 lightly weighed the consequences, and thought with the 
 utmost dismay, that while she had flattered herself she was 
 merely indulging the dictates of humanity, she might 
 perhaps be accused by the world as an abettor of guile and 
 injustice. 
 
 "And yet," she continued, "whom can I essentially 
 have injured but myself ? would his creditors have been
 
 384 CECILIA. 
 
 benefited by my refusal ? had I braved the execution of his 
 dreadful threat, and quitted his house before I was wrought 
 upon to assist him, would his suicide have lessened their 
 losses, or secured their demands ? even if he had no in- 
 tention but to intimidate me, who will be wronged by 
 my enabling him to go abroad, or who would be better 
 paid were he seized and confined ? All that remains of his 
 shattered fortune may still be claimed, though I have saved 
 him from a lingering imprisonment, desperate for himself 
 and his wife, and useless for those he has plundered." 
 
 And thus, now soothed by the purity of her intentions, 
 and now uneasy from the rectitude of her principles, she 
 alternately rejoiced aud repined at what she had done. 
 
 At dinner Mr. Harrel was all civility and good humour. 
 He warmly thanked Cecilia for the kindness she had shown 
 him, and gaily added, " You should be absolved from all 
 the mischief you may do for a twelvemonth to come, in 
 reward for the preservation from mischief which you have 
 this day effected." 
 
 " The preservation," said Cecilia, " will I hope be for 
 many days. But tell me, sir, exactly, at what time I may 
 acquaint Mrs. Delvile I shall wait upon her ? " 
 
 " Perhaps," he answered, " by eight o'clock ; perhaps by 
 nine ; you will not mind half an hour ? " 
 
 " Certainly not;" she answered, unwilling by disputing 
 about a trifle to diminish his satisfaction in her assistance. 
 She wrote, therefore, another note to Mrs. Delvile, desiring 
 she would not expect her till near ten o'clock, and pro- 
 mising to account and apologize for these seeming caprices 
 when she had the honour of seeing her. 
 
 The rest of the afternoon she spent wholly in exhorting 
 Mrs. Harrel to show more fortitude, and conjuring her to 
 study nothing while abroad but economy, prudence and 
 housewifry : a lesson how hard for the thoughtless and 
 negligent Priscilla ! she heard the advice with repugnance, 
 and only answered it with helpless complaints that she 
 knew not how to spend less money than she had always 
 done. 
 
 After tea, Mr. Harrel, still in high spirits, went out> 
 entreating Cecilia to stay with Priscilla till his return, 
 which he promised should be early.
 
 CECILIA. 385 
 
 Nine o'clock, however, came, and he did not appear ; 
 Cecilia then grew anxious to keep her appointment with 
 Mrs. Delvile ; but ten o'clock also came, and still Mr. 
 Harrel was absent. 
 
 She then determined to wait no longer, and rang the 
 bell for her servant and chair : but when Mrs. Harrel 
 desired to be informed the moment that Mr. Harrel re- 
 turned, the man said he had been come home more than 
 half an hour. 
 
 Much surprised, she enquired where he was. 
 
 " In his own room, madam, and gave orders not to be 
 disturbed." 
 
 Cecilia, who was not much pleased at this account, was 
 easily persuaded to stay a few minutes longer ; and, fearing 
 some new evil, she was going to send him a message, by 
 way of knowing how he was employed, when he came him- 
 self into the room. 
 
 " Well, ladies," he cried, in a hurrying manner, " who 
 is for Vauxhall ? " 
 
 "Vauxhall!" repeated Mrs. Harrel, while Cecilia, star- 
 ing, perceived in his face a look of perturbation that ex- 
 tremely alarmed her. 
 
 " Come, come," he cried, " we have no time to lose. A 
 hackney coach will serve us ; we won't wait for our own." 
 
 " Have you then given up going abroad ? " said Mrs. 
 Harrel. 
 
 " No, no ; where can we go from half so well ? Let us 
 live while we live ! I have ordered a chaise to be in waiting 
 there. Come, let's be gone." 
 
 " First," said Cecilia, " let me wish you both good night." 
 
 " Will you not go with me ? " cried Mrs. Harrel ; " how 
 can I go to Vauxhall alone ? " 
 
 "You are not alone," answered she; "but if I go, how 
 am I to return ? " 
 
 " She shall return with you," cried Mr. Harrel, " if you 
 desire it ; you shall return together." 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, starting up in rapture, called out, " Oh 
 Mr. Harrel, will you indeed leave me in England ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered he, reproachfully, " if you will make a 
 better friend than you have made a wife, and if Miss 
 Beverley is content to take charge of you." 
 
 c c
 
 386 CECILIA 
 
 " What can all this mean ? " exclaimed Cecilia ; " is it 
 possible you can be serious ? Are you really going yourself, 
 and will you suffer Mrs. Harrel to remain ? " 
 
 " I am," he answered, " and I will." 
 
 Then ringing the bell, he ordered a hackney coach. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel was scarce able to breathe for ecstasy, nor 
 Cecilia for amazement ; while Mr. Harrel, attending to 
 neither of them, walked for some time silently about the 
 room. 
 
 " But how," cried Cecilia, at last, " can I possibly go ? 
 Mrs. Del vile must already be astonished at my delay ; and if 
 I disappoint her again, she will hardly receive me." 
 
 " O, make not any difficulties," cried Mrs. Harrel in an 
 agony ; "if Mr. Harrel will let me stay, sure you will not 
 be so cruel as to oppose him ? " 
 
 " But, why," said Cecilia, " should either of us go to 
 Vauxhall ? surely that is no place for a parting so me- 
 lancholy." 
 
 A servant then came in, and said the hackney coach was 
 at the door. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, starting at the sound, called out, " Come, 
 what do we wait for ? If we go not immediately, we may 
 be prevented." 
 
 Cecilia then again wished them good night, protesting 
 she could fail Mrs. Delvile no longer. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, half wild at this refusal, conjured her in the 
 most frantic manner to give way, exclaiming, " Oh, cruel ! 
 cruel ! to deny me this last request ! I will kneel to you 
 day and night," sinking upon the ground before her, " and 
 I will serve you as the humblest of your slaves, if you will 
 but be kind in this last instance, and save me from banish- 
 ment and misery ! " 
 
 " Oh, rise, Mrs. Harrel," cried Cecilia, ashamed of her 
 prostration, and shocked by her vehemence, " rise and let me 
 rest ! it is painful to me to refuse, but to comply for ever, 
 in defiance of my judgment Oh. Mrs. Harrel, I know no 
 longer what is kind or what is cruel, nor have I known 
 for some time past right from wrong, nor good from evil! " 
 
 " Come," cried Mr. Harrel, impetuously, " I wait not 
 another minute ! " 
 
 " Leave her then with me ! " said Cecilia, " I will per-
 
 CECILIA. 387 
 
 form my promise, Mr. Arnott will I am sure hold his to 
 be sacred ; she shall now go with him, she shall hereafter 
 come to me, leave her but behind, and depend upon our 
 care." 
 
 " No, no," cried he, with quickness, " I must take care of 
 her myself. I shall not carry her abroad with me ; but the 
 only legacy I can leave her, is a warning which I hope she 
 will remember for ever. You, however, need not go." 
 
 "What," cried Mrs. Harrel, " leave me atVauxhall, and 
 yet leave me alone ? " 
 
 " What of that ? " cried he with fierceness ; " do you 
 not desire to be left ? Have you any regard for me, or for 
 any thing upon earth but yourself ? Cease these vain cla- 
 mours, and come, I insist upon it, this moment." 
 
 And then, with a violent oath, he declared he would be 
 detained no longer, and approached in great rage to seize 
 her. Mrs. Harrel shrieked aloud ; and the terrified Cecilia 
 exclaimed, " If indeed you are to part to-night, part not 
 thus dreadfully! rise, Mrs. Harrel, and comply! be 
 reconciled, be kind to her, Mr. Harrel ! and I will go with 
 her myself, we will all go together ! " 
 
 " And why," cried Mr. Harrel, more gently, yet with 
 the utmost emotion, " why should you go ! you want no 
 warning ! you need no terror ! better far had you fly us, 
 and my wife, when I am set out, may find you." 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, however, suffered her not to recede ; and 
 Cecilia, though, half distracted by the scenes of horror and 
 perplexity in which she was perpetually engaged, ordered 
 her servant to acquaint Mrs. Delvile she was again com- 
 pelled to defer waiting upon her. 
 
 Mr. Harrel then hurried them both into the coach, which 
 he directed to Yauxhall. 
 
 " Pray write to me when you are landed," said Mrs. 
 Harrel, who now released from her personal apprehensions, 
 began to feel some for her husband. 
 
 He made not any answer. She then asked to what 
 part of France he meant to go ; but still he did not reply : 
 and when she urged him by a third question, he told her 
 in a rage to torment him no moi'e. 
 
 During the rest of the ride, not another word was said. 
 Mrs. Harrel wept ; her husband guarded a gloomy silence;
 
 388 CECILIA. 
 
 and Cecilia most unpleasantly passed her time between 
 anxious suspicions of some new scheme, and a terrified 
 wonder in what all these transactions would terminate. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A MAN OF BUSINESS. 
 
 T 1 7HEN" they entered Vauxhall, 1 Mr. Harrel endeavoured 
 V to dismiss his moroseness, and affecting his usual 
 gaiety, struggled to recover his spirits : but the effort was 
 vain, he could neither talk nor look like himself : and though 
 from time to time he resumed his air of wonted levity, he 
 could not support it, but drooped and hung his head in 
 evident despondency. 
 
 He made them take several turns in the midst of the 
 company, and walked so fast, that they could hardly keep 
 pace with him, as if he hoped by exercise to restore his 
 vivacity ; but every attempt failed, he sunk and grew 
 sadder, and muttering between his teeth " this is not to be 
 borne ! " he hastily called to a waiter to bring him a bottle 
 of champagne. 
 
 Of this he drank glass after glass, notwithstanding Cecilia, 
 as Mrs. Harrel had not courage to speak, entreated him to 
 forbear. He seemed, however, not to hear her ; but when 
 he had drunk what he thought necessary to revive him, he 
 conveyed them into an unfrequented part of the garden, and 
 as soon as they were out of sight of all but a few stragglers, 
 
 1 Vauxhall, Faukeshall, or Foxhall, properly Fulke's Hall, a manor 
 in Surrey, so called from Fulke de Brcaute, a mercenary follower of 
 King John. The Gardens were formed about 1661, and known at first 
 as " Xew Spring Gardens." " 24 May, 17 14. We went by water to Fox 
 Hall, and the Spring Garden. I was surprised with so many pleasant 
 walks, &c., so near London." Thoresby's Diary. 
 
 " The coaches being come to the water-side, they all alighted, and 
 getting into one boat, proceeded to Vauxhall. The extreme beauty and 
 elegance of this place is well known to every one of my readers ; and 
 happy is it for me that it is so ; since to give an adequate idea of it 
 would exceed my power of description." FIELDING, Amelia. (Front 
 Peter Cunningham's Handbook for London.)
 
 CECILIA.. 389 
 
 he suddenly stopt, and, in great agitation, said, " My chaise 
 will soon be ready, and I shall take of you a long farewell ! 
 All my affairs are unpropitious to my speedy return ; 
 the wine is now mounting into my head, and perhaps I 
 may not be able to say much by and by. I fear I have 
 been cruel to you, Priscilla, and I begin to wish I had spared 
 you this parting scene; yet let it not be banished your 
 remembrance, but think of it when you are tempted to such 
 mad folly as has ruined us." 
 
 Mrs. Harrel wept too much to make any answer ; and 
 turning from her to Cecilia, "Oh, madam," he cried, "to 
 you, indeed, I dare not speak ! I have used you most un- 
 worthily, but I pay for it all ! I ask you not to pity or 
 forgive me, I know it is impossible you should do either." 
 
 "No," cried the softened Cecilia, "it is not impossible, 
 I do both at this moment, and I hope " 
 
 "Do not hope," interrupted he; "be not so angelic, for 
 I cannot bear it ! Benevolence like yours should have fallen 
 into worthier hands. But come, let us return to the com- 
 pany. My head grows giddy, but my heart is still heavy ; 
 I must make them more fit companions for each other." 
 
 He would then have hurried them back ; but Cecilia, 
 endeavouring to stop him, said, " You do not mean, I hope, 
 to call for more wine ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " cried he, with affected spirit ; " what, shall 
 we not be merry before we part ? Yes, we will all be merry ; 
 for if we are not, how shall we part at all ? Oh, not without 
 a struggle ! " Then, stopping, he paused a moment, and 
 casting off the mask of levity, said in accents the most 
 solemn, " I commit this packet to you" giving a sealed 
 parcel to Cecilia ; " had I written it later, its contents had 
 been kinder to my wife, for now the hour of separation ap- 
 proaches, ill-will and resentment subside. Poor Priscilla ! 
 I am sorry but you will succour her, I am sure you 
 will. Oh, had I known you myself before this infatuation 
 bright pattern of all goodness ! But I was devoted, a 
 ruined wretch before ever you entered my house ; unworthy 
 to be saved, unworthy that virtues such as yours should 
 dwell under the same roof with me ! But come, come 
 now, or my resolution will waver, and I shall not go at 
 last."
 
 390 CECILIA. 
 
 " But what is this packet ? " cried Cecilia, " and why 
 do you give it to me ? " 
 
 " No matter, no matter, you will know by and by ; the 
 chaise waits, and I must gather courage to be gone." 
 
 He then pressed forward, answering neither to remon- 
 strance nor intreaty from his frightened companions. 
 
 The moment they returned to the covered walk, they 
 were met by Mr. Marriot. Mr. Harrel, starting, endea- 
 voured to pass him ; but when he approached and said, 
 " You have sent, sir, no answer to my letter ! " he stopt, 
 and in a tone of forced politeness, said, " No, sir, but I 
 shall answer it to-morrow, and to-night I hope you will do 
 me the honour of supping with me." 
 
 Mr. Marriot, looking openly at Cecilia as his inducement, 
 though evidently regarding himself as an injured man, 
 hesitated a moment, yet accepted the invitation. 
 
 " To supper ! " cried Mrs. Harrel, "what here ? " 
 
 " To supper ! " repeated Cecilia, " and how are we to get 
 home ? " 
 
 " Think not of that these two hours," answered he, "come, 
 let us look for a box." 
 
 Cecilia then grew quite urgent with him to give up a 
 scheme which must keep them so late ; and Mrs. Harrel 
 repeatedly exclaimed, " Indeed people will think it very 
 odd to see us here without any party ! " But he heeded 
 them not ; and perceiving at some distance Mr. Morrice, 
 he called out to him to find them a box ; for the evening 
 was very pleasant, and the gardens were so much crowded, 
 that no accommodation was unseized. 
 
 " Sir," cried Morrice, with his usual readiness, " I'll 
 get you one if I turn out ten old aldermen sucking cus- 
 tards." 
 
 Just after he was gone, a fat, sleek, vulgar-looking man, 
 dressed in a bright purple coat, with a deep red waistcoat, 
 and a wig bulging far from his head with small round curls, 
 while his plump face and person announced plenty and good 
 living, and an air of defiance spoke the fulness of his purse, 
 strutted boldly up to Mr. Harrel, and accosting him in a 
 manner that showed some diffidence of his reception, but 
 none of his right, said, " Sir, your humble servant ; " and 
 made a bow first to him, and then to the ladies.
 
 CECILIA. 391 
 
 " Sir, yours," replied Mr. Harrel, scornfully, and without 
 touching his hat he walked quick on. 
 
 His fat acquaintance, who seemed but little disposed to 
 be offended with impunity, instantly replaced his hat on 
 his head, and with a look that implied I'll fit you for this ! 
 put his hands to his sides, and following him, said, " Sir, I 
 must make bold to beg the favour of exchanging a few 
 words with yon." 
 
 "Ay, sir," answered Mr. Harrel, "come to me to- 
 morrow, and you shall exchange as many as you please." 
 
 " Nothing like the time present, sir," answered the man ; 
 " as for to-morrow, I believe it intends to come no more ; 
 for I have heard of it any time these three years. I mean 
 no reflections, sir, but let every man have his right. That's 
 what I say, and that's my notion of things." 
 
 Mr. Harrel, with a violent execration, asked what he 
 meant by dunning him at such a place as Yauxhall ? 
 
 " One place, sir," he replied, " is as good as another 
 place ; for so as what one does is good, 'tis no matter for 
 where it may be. A man of business never wants a counter, 
 if he can meet with a joint-stool. For my part, I'm all for 
 a clear conscience, and no bills without receipts to them." 
 
 " And if you were all for broken bones," cried Mr. Harrel, 
 angrily, " I would oblige you with them without delay." 
 
 " Sir," cried the man, equally provoked, "this is talking 
 quite out of character ; for as to broken bones, there's ne'er 
 a person in all England, gentle nor simple, can say he's a 
 right to break mine, for I'm not a person of that sort, but 
 a man of as good property as another man ; and there's 
 ne'er a customer I have in the world that's more his own 
 man than myself." 
 
 "Lord bless me, Mr. Hobson," cried Mrs. Harrel, "don't 
 follow us in this manner ! If we meet any of our acquain- 
 tance, they'll think us half crazy." 
 
 " Ma'am," answered Mr. Hobson, again taking off his hat, 
 " if I'm treated with proper respect, no man will behave 
 more generous than myself ; but if I'm affronted, all I can 
 say is, it may go harder with some folks than they think 
 for. ? ' 
 
 Here a little mean-looking man, very thin, and almost 
 bent double with perpetual cringing, came up to Mr. Hobson,
 
 392 CECILIA 
 
 and pulling him by the sleeve, whispered, yet loud enough 
 to be heard, " It's surpriseable to me, Mr. Hobson, you can 
 behave so out of the way ! For my part perhaps I've as 
 much my due as another person, but I dares to say I shall 
 have it when it's convenient, and I'd scorn for to mislesl 
 a gentleman when he's taking his pleasure." 
 
 " Lord bless me," cried Mrs. Barrel, " what shall we 
 do now ? here's all Mr. Barrel's creditors coming upon 
 us!" 
 
 " Do ? " cried Mr. Harrel, re-assuming an air of gaiety, 
 " why give them all a supper, to be sure. Come, gentle- 
 men, will you favour me with your company to supper ? " 
 
 " Sir," answered Mr. Hobson, somewhat softened by this 
 unexpected invitation, " I've supped this hour and more, 
 and had my glass too, for I'm as willing to spend my money 
 as another man ; only what I say is this, I don't choose to 
 be cheated, for that's losing one's substance, and getting no 
 credit ; however, as to drinking another glass, or such a 
 matter as that, I'll do it with all the pleasure in life." 
 
 "And as to me," said the other man, whose name was 
 Simkins, and whose head almost touched the ground by the 
 profoundness of his reverence, " I can't upon no account 
 think of taking the liberty ; but if I may just stand with- 
 out, I'll make bold to go so far as just for to drink my 
 humble duty to the ladies in a cup of cyder." 
 
 " Are you mad, Mr. Harrel, are you mad ! " cried his 
 wife, " to think of asking such people as these to supper ? 
 What will every body say ? Suppose any of our acquain- 
 tance should see us ? I am sure I shall die with shame." 
 
 " Mad ! " repeated he ; " no, not mad, but merry. ho, 
 Mr. Morrice, why have you been so long ? what have you 
 done for us ?" 
 
 " Why, sir," answered Morrice, returning with a look 
 somewhat less elated than he had set out, " the gardens are 
 so full, there is not a box to be had : but I hope we shall 
 get one for all that ; for I observed one of the best boxes in 
 the garden, just to the right there, with nobody in it but 
 that gentleman who made me spill the tea-pot at the Pan- 
 theon. So I made an apology, and told him the case : 
 but he only said humph ? and hay ? so then I told it all 
 over again, but he served me just the same, for he never
 
 CECILIA. 393 
 
 seems to hear what one says till one's just done, and then 
 he begins to recollect one's speaking to him ; however, 
 though I repeated it all over and over again, I could get 
 nothing from him but just that humph ? and hay ? but he 
 is so remarkably absent, that I dare say if we all go and 
 sit down round him, he won't know a word of the matter." 
 
 " Won't he ? " cried Mr. Harrel, " have at him, then ! " 
 
 And he followed Mr. Morrice, though Cecilia, who now 
 half suspected that all was to end in a mere idle frolic, 
 warmly joined her remonstrances to those of Mrs. Harrel, 
 which were made with the utmost, but with fruitless 
 earnestness. 
 
 Mr. Meadows, who was seated in the middle of the box, 
 was lolloping upon the table with his customary ease, and 
 picking his teeth with his usual inattention to all about 
 him. The intrusion, however, of so large a party, seemed 
 to threaten his insensibility with unavoidable disturbance ; 
 though, imagining they meant but to look in at the box, 
 and pass on, he made not at their first approach any altera- 
 tion in his attitude or employment. 
 
 " See, ladies," cried the officious Morrice, " I told you 
 there was room ; and I am sure this gentleman will be very 
 happy to make way for you, if it's only out of good nature 
 to the waiters, as he is neither eating nor drinking, nor 
 doing any thing at all. So if you two ladies will go in at 
 that side, Mr. Harrel and that other gentleman," pointing 
 to Mr. Marriot, " may go to the other, and then I'll sit by 
 the ladies here, and those other two gentlemen " 
 
 Here Mr. Meadows, raising himself from his reclining 
 posture, and staring Morrice in the face, gravely said, 
 " What's all this, sir ? " 
 
 Morrice, who expected to have arranged the whole party 
 without a question, and who understood so little of modish 
 airs as to suspect neither affectation nor trick in the absence 
 of mind and indolence of manners which he observed in 
 Mr. Meadows, was utterly amazed by this interrogatory, 
 and staring himself in return, said, " Sir, you seemed so 
 thoughtful I did not think I did not suppose you would 
 have taken any notice of just a person or two coming into 
 the box." 
 
 " Did not you, sir ? " said Mr. Meadows, very coldly ;
 
 394 CECILIA. 
 
 " why then, now yon do, perhaps you'll be so obliging as to 
 let me have my own box to myself." 
 
 And then again he returned to his favourite position. 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said Morrice, bowing ; " I am sure I 
 did not mean to disturb you : for you seemed so lost in 
 thought, that I'm sure I did not much believe you would 
 have seen us." 
 
 " Why, sir," said Mr. Hobson, strutting forward, " if I 
 may speak my opinion, I should think, as you happen to be 
 quite alone, a little agreeable company would be no such 
 bad thing. At least that's my notion." 
 
 "And if I might take the liberty," said the smooth- 
 tongued Mr. Simkins, " for to put in a word, I should 
 think the best way would be, if the gentleman has no pe- 
 ticklar objection, for me just to stand somewhere hereabouts, 
 and so, when he's had what he's a mind to, be ready for to 
 pop in at one side, as he comes out at the t'other ; for if 
 one does not look pretty 'cute such a full night as this, a 
 box is whipt away before one knows where one is." 
 
 "No, no, BO," cried Mrs. Harrel, impatiently; "letns 
 neither sup in this box nor in any other ; let us go away 
 entirely." 
 
 "Indeed we must! indeed we ought!" cried Cecilia ; 
 " it is utterly improper we should stay ; pray let us be gone 
 immediately." 
 
 Mr. Harrel paid not the least regard to these requests ; 
 but Mr. Meadows, who could no longer seem unconscious 
 of what passed, did himself so much violence as to arise, 
 and ask if the ladies would be seated. 
 
 " I said so ! " cried Morrice, triumphantly ; " I was sure 
 there was no gentleman but would be happy to accommo- 
 date two such ladies ! " 
 
 The ladies, however, far from happy in being so accommo- 
 dated, again tried their utmost influence in persuading Mr. 
 Harrel to give up this scheme, but he would not hear them ; 
 he insisted upon their going into the box, and, extending 
 the privilege which Mr. Meadows had given, he invited 
 without ceremony the whole party to follow. 
 
 Mr. Meadows, though he seemed to think this a very ex- 
 traordinary encroachment, had already made such an effort 
 from his general languor, in the repulse he had given to
 
 CECILIA. 395 
 
 Morrice, that he could exert himself no further ; but after 
 looking around him with mingled vacancy and contempt, 
 he again seated himself, and suffered Morrice to do the 
 honours without more opposition. 
 
 Moivice, but too happy in the office, placed Cecilia next to 
 Mr. Meadows, and would have made Mr. Marriot her other 
 neighbour, but she insisted upon not being parted from 
 Mrs. Barrel ; and therefore, as he chose to sit also by that 
 lady himself, Mr. Marriot was obliged to follow Mr. Harrel 
 to the other side of the box. Mr. Hobson, without further 
 invitation, placed himself comfortably in one of the corners ; 
 and Mr. Simkins, who stood modestly for some time in 
 another, finding the further encouragement for which he 
 waited was not likely to arrive, dropt quietly into his seat 
 without it. 
 
 Supper was now ordered, and while it was preparing, 
 Mr. Harrel sat totally silent ; but Mr. Meadows thought 
 proper to force himself to talk with Cecilia, though she 
 could well have dispensed with such an exertion of his 
 politeness. 
 
 " Do you like this place, ma'am? " 
 
 " Indeed, I hardly know, I never was here before." 
 
 " IsTo wonder ! the only surprise is that anybody can 
 come to it at all. To see a set of people walking after no- 
 thing ! strolling about without view or object ! 'tis strange ! 
 don't you think so, ma'am ? " 
 
 "Yes, I believe so," said Cecilia, scarce hearing him. 
 
 " O, it gives me the vapours, the horrors," cried he, "to 
 see what poor creatures we all are ! taking pleasure even 
 from the privation of it ! forcing ourselves into exercise 
 and toil, when we might at least have the indulgence of 
 sitting still and reposing ! " 
 
 " Lord, sir," cried Morrice, " don't you like walking ? " 
 
 " Walking ! " cried he ; "I know nothing so humiliating: 
 to see a rational being in such mechanical motion ! with no 
 knowledge upon what principles he proceeds, but plodding 
 on, one foot before another, without even any consciousness 
 which is first, or how either " 
 
 " Sir," interrupted Mr. Hobson, " I hope you won't take 
 it amiss if I make bold to tell my opinion ; for my way is 
 this, let every man speak his maxim ! But what I say as
 
 396 CECILIA. 
 
 to this matter, is this, if a man must always be stopping 
 to consider what foot he is standing upon, he had need 
 have little to do, being the right does as well as the left, 
 and the left as well as the right. And that, sir, I think is 
 a fair argument." 
 
 Mr. Meadows deigned no other answer to this speech than 
 a look of contempt. 
 
 " I fancy, sir," said Morrice, " you are fond of riding, for 
 all your good horsemen like nothing else." 
 
 " Riding ! " exclaimed Mr. Meadows ; " oh, barbarous ! 
 Wrestling and boxing are polite arts to it ! Trusting to the 
 discretion of an animal less intellectual than ourselves ! a 
 sudden spring may break all our limbs, a stumble may 
 fracture our sculls ! And what is the inducement ? to get 
 melted with heat, killed with fatigue, and covered with 
 dust ! miserable infatuation ! Do you love riding, ma'am ?" 
 
 " Yes, very well, sir." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," cried he, with a vacant smile ; 
 " you are quite right ; I am entirely of your opinion." 
 
 Mr. Simkins now, with a look of much perplexity, yet 
 rising and bowing, said " I don't mean, sir, to be so rude 
 as to put in my oar, but if I did not take you wrong, I'm 
 sure, just now, I thought you seemed for to make no great 
 'count of riding, and yet now, all of the sudden, one would 
 think you was a speaking up for it ! " 
 
 "Why, sir," cried Morrice, "if you neither like riding 
 nor walking, you can have no pleasure at all but only in 
 sitting." 
 
 " Sitting ! " repeated Mr. Meadows, with a yawn, " 0, 
 worse and worse ! it dispirits me to death ! it robs me of 
 all fire and life ! it weakens circulation, and destroys 
 elasticity." 
 
 " Pi'ay then, sir," said Morrice, " do you like any better 
 to stand ? " 
 
 " To stand ? O, intolerable ! the most unmeaning thing 
 in the world ! one had better be made a mummy ! " 
 
 " Why then, pray, sir," said Mr. Hobson, "let me ask 
 the favour of you to tell us what it is you do like ? " 
 
 Mr. Meadows, though he stared him full in the face, began 
 picking his teeth without making any answer. 
 
 " You see, Mr. Hobson," said Mr. Simkins, " the gentle-
 
 CECILIA. 397 
 
 man lias no mind for to tell you, but if I may take the 
 liberty just to put in, I think if he neither likes -walking, 
 nor riding, nor sitting, nor standing, I take it he likes 
 nothing." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Morrice, " but here comes supper, and 
 I hope you will like that. Pray, sir, may I help you to a 
 bit of this ham ? " 
 
 Mr. Meadows, not seeming to hear him, suddenly, and 
 with an air of extreme weariness, arose, and without speak- 
 ing to anybody, abruptly made his way out of the box. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, now, starting from the gloomy reverie into 
 which he had sunk, undertook to do the honours of the 
 table, insisting with much violence upon helping every- 
 body, calling for more provisions, and struggling to appear 
 in high spirits and good humour. 
 
 In a few minutes Captain Aresby, who was passing by 
 the box, stopt to make his compliments to Mrs. Harrel and 
 Cecilia. 
 
 " What a concourse ! " he cried, casting up his eyes with 
 an expression of half-dying fatigue, " are you not accable '? 
 for my part I hardly respire. I have really hardly ever 
 had the honour of being so obsede before." 
 
 " We can make very good room, sir," said Morrice, " if 
 you choose to come in." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Simkins, obsequiously standing up, "I 
 am sure the gentleman will be very welcome to take my 
 place, for I did not mean for to sit down, only just to look 
 agreeable." 
 
 " By no means, sir," answered the Captain : " I shall be 
 quite au desespoir if I derange anybody." 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Hobson, " I don't offer you my place, 
 because I take it for granted if you had a mind to come in, 
 you would not stand upon ceremony ; for what I say is, let 
 every man speak his mind, and then we shall all know how 
 to conduct ourselves. That's my way, and let any man 
 tell me a better ! " 
 
 The Captain, after looking at him with a surprise not 
 wholly unmixt with horror, turned from him without 
 making any answer, and said to Cecilia, " And how long, 
 ma'am, have you tried this petrifying place ? " 
 
 "An hour, two hours, I believe," she answered.
 
 398 CECILIA. 
 
 " Really ? and nobody here ! assez de tnonde, but nobody 
 here ! a blank partout! " 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Simkins, getting out of the box that he 
 might bow with more facility, " I humbly crave pardon for 
 the liberty, but, if I understood right, you said something 
 of a blank ? pray, sir, if I may be so free, has there been 
 anything of the nature of a lottery, or a raffle, in the 
 garden ? or the like of that ? " 
 
 " Sir ! " said the Captain, regarding him from head to 
 foot, " I am quite assomme that I cannot comprehend your 
 allusion." 
 
 " Sir, I ask pardon," said the man, bowing stilt lower, 
 " I only thought if in case it should not be above half a 
 crown, or such a matter as that, I might perhaps stretch a 
 point once in a way." 
 
 The Captain, more and more amazed, stared at him again, 
 but not thinking it necessary to take any further notice of 
 him, he enquired of Cecilia if she meant to stay late. 
 
 "I hope not," she replied, " I have already stayed later 
 than I wished to do." 
 
 " Really ! " said he, with an unmeaning smile : " Well, 
 that is as horrid a thing as I have the malheur to know. 
 For my part, I make it a principle not to stay long in these 
 semi-barbarous places, for after a certain time they bore me 
 to that degree I am quite abime. I shall, however, do man 
 possible to have the honour of seeing you again." 
 
 And then, with a smile of yet greater insipidity, he 
 protested he was reduced to despair in leaving her, and 
 walked on. 
 
 " Pray, ma'am, if I may be so bold," said Mr. Hobson, 
 " what countryman may that gentleman be ? " 
 
 "An Englishman, I suppose, sir," said Cecilia. 
 
 "An Englishman, ma'am!" said Mr. Hobson, "why I 
 could not understand one word in ten that came out of his 
 mouth." 
 
 "Why, indeed," said Mr. Simkins, "he has a mighty 
 peticklar way of speaking, for I'm sure I thought I could 
 have sworn he said something of a blank, or to that amount, 
 but I could make nothing of it when I came to ask him 
 about it." 
 
 "Let every man speak to be understood," cried Mr.
 
 CECILIA 399 
 
 Hobson, " that's mj notion of things : for as to all those 
 fine words that nobody can make out, I hold them to be of 
 no use. Suppose a man was to talk in that manner when 
 he's doing business, what would be the upshot ? who'd 
 understand what he meant ? Well, that's the proof ; what 
 i'n't fit for business, i'n't of no value : that's my way of 
 judging, and that's what I go upon." 
 
 " He said some other things," rejoined Mr. Simkins, "that 
 I could not make out very clear, only I had no mind to ask 
 any more questions, for fear of his answering me something I 
 should not understand : but as well as I could make it out, I 
 thought I heard him say there was nobody here ! what he 
 could mean by that, I can't pretend for to guess, for I'm 
 sure the garden is so stock full, that if there was to come 
 many more, I don't know where they could cram 'em." 
 
 " I took notice of it at the time," said Mr. Hobson, 
 " for it i'n't many things are lost upon me ; and, to tell you 
 the truth, I thought he had been making pretty free with 
 his bottle, by his seeing no better." 
 
 " Bottle ! " cried Mr. Harrel, " a most excellent hint, 
 Mr. Hobson ! come ! let us all make free with the bottle ! " 
 
 He then called for more wine, and insisted that every 
 body should pledge him. Mr. Marriott and Mr. Morrice 
 made not any objection, and Mr. Hobson and Mr. Simkins 
 consented with much delight. 
 
 Mr. Harrel now grew extremely unruly, the wine he had 
 already drunk being thus powerfully aided ; and his next 
 project was to make his wife and Cecilia follow his example. 
 Cecilia, more incensed than ever to see no preparation made 
 for his departure, and all possible pains taken to unfit him 
 for setting out, refused him with equal firmness and dis- 
 pleasure, and lamented with the bitterest self-reproaches, 
 the consent which had been forced from her to be present 
 at a scene of such disorder : but Mrs. Harrell would have 
 opposed him in vain, had not his attention been called off 
 to another object. This was Sir Robert Floyer, who per- 
 ceiving the party at some distance, no sooner observed Mr. 
 Marriott in such company, than advancing to the box 
 with an air of rage and defiance, he told Mr. Harrel he had 
 something to say to him. 
 
 " Ay," cried Hairel, " say to me ? and so have 1 to say
 
 400 CECILIA. 
 
 to you ! Come amongst us and be merry ! Here, make 
 room, make way ! Sit close, my friends ! " 
 
 Sir Robert, who now saw he was in no situation to be 
 reasoned with, stood for a moment silent ; and then, looking 
 round the box, and observing Messrs. Hobson and Simkins, 
 he exclaimed aloud, " Why what queer party have you got 
 into ? who the d 1 have you picked up here ? " l 
 
 Mr. Hobson, who, to the importance of lately acquired 
 wealth, now added the courage of newly-drunk champagne, 
 stoutly kept his ground, without seeming at all conscious 
 he was included in this interrogation ; but Mr. Simkins, 
 who had still his way to make in the world, and whose 
 habitual servility would have resisted a larger draught, 
 was easily intimidated ; he again, therefore, stood up, and 
 with the most cringing respect offered the baronet his 
 place : who, taking neither of the offer nor offerer the 
 smallest notice, still stood opposite to Mr. Harrel, waiting 
 for some explanation. 
 
 Mr. Harrel, however, who now grew really incapable of 
 giving any, only repeated his invitation, that he would make 
 one among them. 
 
 " One among you ? " cried he, angrily, and pointing to 
 Mr. Hobson, " why you don't fancy I'll sit down with a 
 bricklayer ? " 
 
 " A bricklayer ? " said Mr. Harrel, " ay, sure, and a hosier 
 too ; sit down, Mr. Simkins, keep your place, man ! " 
 
 Mr. Simkins most thankfully bowed ; but Mr. Hobson, 
 who could no longer avoid feeling the personality of this 
 reflection, boldly answered, " Sir, you may sit down with a 
 worse man any day in the week ! I have done nothing I'm. 
 ashamed of, and no man can say to me why did you so ? 
 I don't tell you, sir, what I'm worth ; no one has a right 
 to ask. I only say three times five is fifteen ! that's all." 
 
 " Why, what the d 1, you impudent fellow," cried the 
 haughty baronet, " you don't presume to mutter, do 
 you?" 
 
 " Sir," answered Mr. Hobson, very hotly, " I sha'n't pat 
 
 1 "Hobson and Simkins are Borough men, and I am confident they 
 were both canvassed last year ; they are not representations of life, 
 they are the life itself." Mrs. Thrale to Miss Eurney, 178:2. Diary , 
 p. 139, vol. ii.
 
 CECILIA. 401 
 
 up with abuse from no man ! I've got a fair character in 
 the world, and wherewithal to live by my own liking. And 
 what I have is my own, and all I say is, let -everyone say 
 the same, for that's the way to fear no man, and face the 
 d 1 ! " 
 
 " What do you mean by that, fellow ? " cried Sir Robert. 
 
 " Fellow, Sir ! this is talking no-how. Do you think a 
 man of substance, that's got above the world, is to be treated 
 like a little scrubby apprentice ? Let every man have his 
 own, that's always rny way of thinking ; and this I can say 
 for myself, I have as good a right to show my head where I 
 please as ever a member of parliament in all England ; and 
 I wish everybody here could say as much." 
 
 Sir Robert, fury starting into his eyes, was beginning an 
 answer : but Mrs. Harrel with terror, and Cecilia with 
 dignity, calling upon them both to forbear, the baronet 
 desired Morrice to relinquish his place to him, and seating 
 himself next to Mrs. Harrel, gave over the contest. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Simkins, hoping to ingratiate himself 
 with the company, advanced to Mr. Hobson, already cooled 
 by finding himself unanswered, and reproachfully said, " Mr. 
 Hobson, if I may make so free, I must needs be bold to say 
 I am quite ashamed of you ! a person of your standing and 
 credit for to talk so disrespectful ! as if a gentleman had 
 not a right to take a little pleasure, because he just happens 
 to owe you a little matters of money : fie, fie, Mr. Hobson ! I 
 did not expect you to behave so despiseable ! " 
 
 " Despiseable ! " answered Mr. Hobson, " I'd scorn as 
 much to do anything despiseable as yourself, or anything 
 misbecoming of a gentleman ; and as to coming to such a 
 place as this may be, why I have no objection to it. All I 
 stand to is this, let every man have his due ; for as to 
 taking a little pleasure, here I am, as one may say, doing 
 the same myself ; but where's the harm of that ? who's a 
 right to call a man to account that's clear of the world ? 
 Not that I mean to boast, nor nothing like it, but as I said 
 before, three times five is fifteen ; that's my calculation." 
 
 Mr. Harrel, who, during this debate, had still continued 
 drinking, regardless of all opposition from his wife and 
 Cecilia, now grew more and more turbulent : he insisted 
 that Mr. Simkins should return to his seat, ordered him 
 
 DD
 
 402 CECILIA. 
 
 another bumper of champagne, and saying he had not half 
 company enough to raise his spirits, desired Morrice to 
 go and invite more. 
 
 Morrice, always ready to promote a frolic, most cheer- 
 fully consented ; but when Cecilia, in a low voice, sup- 
 plicated him to bring no one back, with still more readiness 
 he made signs that he understood and would obey her. 
 
 Mr. Harrel then began to sing, and in so noisy and riotous 
 a manner, that nobody approached the box without stopping 
 to stare at him ; and those who were new to such scenes, 
 not contented with merely looking in, stationed them- 
 selves at some distance before it, to observe what was 
 passing, and to contemplate with envy and admiration an 
 appearance of mirth and enjoyment which they attributed 
 to happiness and pleasure ! 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, shocked to be seen in such mixed company, 
 grew every instant more restless and miserable ; and Cecilia, 
 half distracted to think how they were to get home, passed 
 all her time in making secret vows that if once again she 
 was delivered from Mr. Harrel she would never see him 
 more. 
 
 Sir Robert Floyer perceiving their mutual uneasiness, 
 proposed to escort them home himself ; and Cecilia, not- 
 withstanding her aversion to him, was listening to the 
 scheme, when Mr. Marriot, who had been evidently pro- 
 voked and disconcerted since the junction of the baronet, 
 suspecting what was passing, offered his services also, and 
 in a tone of voice that did not promise a very quiet acqui- 
 escence in a refusal. 
 
 Cecilia, who too easily, in their looks, saw all the eager- 
 ness of rivalry, now dreaded the consequence of her decision, 
 and therefore declined the assistance of either : but her dis- 
 tress was unspeakable, as there was not one person in the 
 party to whose care she could commit herself, though the 
 behaviour of Mr. Harrel, which every moment grew more 
 disorderly, rendered the necessity of quitting him urgent 
 and uncontrollable. 
 
 When Morrice returned, stopping in the midst of his 
 loud and violent singing, he vehemently demanded what 
 company he had brought him ? 
 
 "None at all, sir," answered Morrice, looking signifi-
 
 CECILIA. 403 
 
 cantly at Cecilia ; " I have really been so unlucky as not to 
 meet with anybody who had a mind to come." 
 
 " Why then," answered he, starting up, " I will seek 
 some for myself." " no, pray, Mr. Harrel, bring nobody 
 else," cried his wife. " Hear us in pity," cried Cecilia, 
 " and distress us no further." " Distress you ? " cried he, 
 with quickness, " what, shall I not bring you those pretty 
 girls ? Yes, one more glass, and I will teach you to wel- 
 come them." 
 
 And he poured out another bumper. 
 
 " This is insupportable ! " cried Cecilia, rising, " and I 
 can remain here no longer." 
 
 " This is cruel indeed," cried Mrs. Harrel, bursting into 
 tears ; " did you only bring me here to insult me ? " 
 
 " No ! " cried he, suddenly embracing her, " by this part- 
 ing kiss ! " then wildly jumping upon his seat, he leapt over 
 the table, and was out of sight in an instant. 
 
 Amazement seized all who remained ; Mrs. Harrel and 
 Cecilia, indeed, doubted not but he was actually gone to the 
 chaise he had ordered ; but the manner of his departure 
 affrighted them, and his preceding behaviour had made them 
 cease to expect it : Mrs. Harrel, leaning upon Cecilia, con- 
 tinued to weep, while she, confounded and alarmed, scarce 
 knew whether she should stay and console her, or fly after 
 Mr. Harrel, whom she feared had incapacitated himself 
 from finding his chaise, by the very method he had taken 
 to gather courage for seeking it. 
 
 This, however, was but the apprehension of a moment ; 
 another and a far more horrible one drove it from her ima- 
 gination : for scarcely had Mr. Harrel quitted the box and 
 their sight, before their ears were suddenly struck with the 
 report of a pistol. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel gave a loud scream, which was involuntarily 
 echoed by Cecilia : everybody arose, some with officious 
 zeal to serve the ladies, and others to hasten to the spot 
 whence the dreadful sound proceeded. 
 
 Sir Robert Floyer again offered his services in conducting 
 them home ; but they could listen to no such proposal : 
 Cecilia with difficulty refrained from rushing out herself to 
 discover what was passing ; but her dread of being followed 
 by Mrs. Harrel prevented her ; they both, therefore, waited,
 
 404 CECILIA. 
 
 expecting every instant some intelligence, as all but the 
 baronet and Mr. Marriot were now gone to seek it. 
 
 Nobody, however, returned ; and their terrors encreased 
 every moment : Mrs. Harrel wanted to run out herself, but 
 Cecilia, conjuring her to keep still, begged Mr. Marriot to 
 bring them some account. Mr. Marriot, like the messengers 
 who had preceded him, came not back : an instant seemed 
 an age, and Sir Robert Floyer was also entreated to procure 
 information. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel and Cecilia were now left to themselves, and 
 their horror was too great for speech or motion : they stood 
 close to each other, listening to every sound, and receiving 
 every possible addition to their alarm, by the general con- 
 fusion which they observed in the gardens, in which, though 
 both gentlemen and waiters were running to and fro, not a 
 creature was walking, and all amusement seemed forgotten. 
 
 From this dreadful state they were at length removed, 
 though not relieved, by the sight of a waiter, who, as he 
 was passing, showed himself almost covered with blood ! 
 Mrs. Harrel vehemently called after him, demanding whence 
 it came ? " From the gentleman, ma'am," answered he in 
 haste, "that has shot himself," and then ran on. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel uttered a piercing scream, and sunk on the 
 the ground ; for Cecilia, shuddering with horror, lost all 
 her own strength, and could no longer lend her any support. 
 
 So great at this time was the general confusion of the 
 place, that for some minutes their particular distress was 
 unknown, and their situation unnoticed ; till at length an 
 elderly gentleman came up to the box, and humanely offered 
 his assistance. 
 
 Cecilia, pointing to her unfortunate friend, who had not 
 fallen into a fainting fit, but merely from weakness and 
 terror, accepted his help in raising her. She was lifted up, 
 however, without the smallest effort on her own part, and 
 was only kept upon her seat by being held there by the 
 stranger, for Cecilia, whose whole frame was shaking, tried 
 in vain to sustain her. 
 
 This gentleman, from the violence of their distress, began 
 now to suspect its motive,and addressing himself to Cecilia, 
 said, " I am afraid, madam, this unfortunate gentleman was 
 some relation to you ? "
 
 CECILIA. 405 
 
 Neither of them spoke, but their silence was sufficiently 
 expressive. 
 
 " It is pity, madam," he continued, " that some friend 
 can't order him out of the crowd, and have him kept quiet 
 till a surgeon can be brought." 
 
 " A surgeon ! " exclaimed Cecilia, recovering from one 
 surprise by the effect of another, "is it then possible he may 
 be saved ? " 
 
 And without waiting to have her question answered, she 
 ran out of the box herself, flying wildly about the garden, 
 and calling for help as she flew, till she found the house by 
 the entrance ; and then, going up to the bar, " Is a surgeon 
 sent for ? " she exclaimed, " let a surgeon be fetched in- 
 stantly ! " "A surgeon, ma'am," she was answered, " Is 
 not the gentleman dead ? " " No, no, no ! " she cried ; "he 
 must be brought in ; let some careful people go and bring 
 him in." Nor would she quit the bar, till two or three 
 waiters were called, and received her orders. And then, 
 eager to see them executed herself, she ran, fearless of being 
 alone, and without thought of being lost, towards the fatal 
 spot whither the crowd guided her. She could not, indeed, 
 have been more secure from insult or molestation if sur- 
 rounded by twenty guards ; for the scene of desperation 
 and horror which many had witnessed, and of which all 
 had heard the signal, engrossed the universal attention, and 
 took, even from the most idle and licentious, all spirit for 
 gallantry and amusement. 
 
 Here, while making vain attempts to penetrate through 
 the multitude, that she might see and herself judge the 
 actual situation of Mr. Harrel, and give, if yet there was 
 room for hope, such orders as would best conduce to his 
 safety and recovery, she was met by Mr. Marriot, who en- 
 treated her not to press forward to a sight which he had 
 found too shocking for himself, and insisted upon protect- 
 ing her through the crowd. 
 
 " If he is alive," cried she, refusing his aid, " and if there 
 is any chance he may be saved, no sight shall be too shock- 
 in<y to deter me from seeing him properly attended." 
 
 " All attendance," answered he, " will be in vain : he is 
 not, indeed, yet dead, but his recovery is impossible. There 
 is a surgeon with him already ; one who happened to be in
 
 406 CECILIA. 
 
 the gardens, and lie told me himself that the wound was 
 inevitably mortal." 
 
 Cecilia, though greatly disappointed, still determined to 
 make way to him, that she might herself enquire if, in his 
 last moments, there was any thing he wished to communi- 
 cate, or desired to have done : but, as she struggled to 
 proceed, she was next met and stopt by Sir Robert Floyer, 
 who, forcing her back, acquainted her that all was over ! 
 
 The shock with which she received this account, though 
 unmixed with any tenderness of regret, and resulting 
 merely from general humanity, was yet so violent as almost 
 to overpower her. Mr. Harrel, indeed, had forfeited all 
 right to her esteem, and the unfeeling selfishness of his 
 whole behaviour had long provoked her resentment and ex- 
 cited her disgust ; yet a catastrophe so dreadful, and from 
 which she had herself made such efforts to rescue him, filled 
 her with so much horror, that, turning extremely sick, she 
 was obliged to be supported to the nearest box, and stopt 
 there for hartshorn and water. 
 
 A few minutes, however, sufficed to divest her of all care 
 for herself, in the concern with which she recollected the 
 situation of Mrs. Harrel ; she hastened, therefore, back to 
 her, attended by the baronet and Mr. Marriot, and found 
 her still leaning upon the stranger, and weeping aloud. 
 
 The fatal news had already reached her ; and though all 
 affection between Mr. Harrel and herself had mutually sub- 
 sided from the first two or three months of their marriage, 
 a conclusion so horrible to all connection between them 
 could not be heard without sorrow and distress. Her 
 temper, too, naturally soft, retained not resentment, and 
 Mr. Harrel, now separated from her for ever, was only 
 remembered as the Mr. Harrel who first won her heart. 
 
 Neither pains nor tenderness were spared on the part of 
 Cecilia to console her ; who finding her utterly incapable 
 either of acting or directing for herself, and knowing her 
 at all times to be extremely helpless, now summoned to her 
 own aid all the strength of mind she possessed, and deter- 
 mined upon this melancholy occasion, both to think and act 
 for her widowed friend to the utmost stretch of her abilities 
 and power. 
 
 As soon, therefore, as the first effusions of her grief were
 
 CECILIA. 407 
 
 over, she prevailed with her to go to the house, where she 
 was humanely offered the use of a quiet room till she should 
 be better able to set off for town. 
 
 Cecilia, having seen her thus safely lodged, begged Mr. 
 Marriot to stay with her, and then, accompanied by the 
 baronet, returned herself to the bar, and desiring the foot- 
 man who had attended them to be called, sent him instantly 
 to his late master, and proceeded next with great presence 
 of mind, to enquire further into the particulars of what had 
 passed, and to consult upon what was immediately to be 
 done with the deceased : for she thought it neither decent 
 nor right to leave to chance or to strangers the last duties 
 which could be paid him. 
 
 He had lingered, she found, about a quarter of an hour, 
 but in a condition too dreadful for description, quite speech- 
 less, and, by all that could be judged, out of his senses ; yet 
 so distorted with pain, and wounded so desperately beyond 
 any power of relief, that the surgeon, who every instant ex- 
 pected his death, said it would not be merely useless but 
 inhuman, to remove him till he had breathed his last. He 
 died, therefore, in the arms of this gentleman and a waiter. 
 
 " A waiter ! " cried Cecilia, reproachfully looking at Sir 
 Robert, " and was there no friend who, for the few poor 
 poor moments that remained, had patience to support 
 him ! " 
 
 " Where would be the good," said Sir Robert, " of sup- 
 porting a man in his last agonies ? " 
 
 This unfeeling speech she attempted not to answer ; but, 
 suffering neither her dislike to him, nor her scruples for 
 herself, to interfere with the present occasion, she desired 
 to have his advice what was now best to be done. 
 
 Undertakers' men must immediately, he said, be sent for 
 to remove the body. 
 
 She then gave orders for that purpose, which were in- 
 stantly executed. 
 
 Whither the body was to go was the next question : 
 Cecilia wished the removal to be directly to the town- 
 house, but Sir Robert told her it must be carried to the 
 nearest undertaker's, and kept there till it could be con- 
 veyed to town in a coffin. 
 
 For this also, in the name of Mrs. Harrel, she gave
 
 408 CECILIA. 
 
 directions. And then addressing herself to Sir Robert, 
 "You will now, sir, I hope," she said, "return to the fatal 
 spot, and watch by your late unfortunate friend, till the 
 proper people arrive to take charge of him." 
 
 "And what good will that do ? " cried he ; " had I not 
 better watch by you ? " 
 
 " It will do good," answered she, with some severity, " to 
 decency and to humanity ; and surely you cannot refuse to 
 see who is with him, and in what situation he lies, and 
 whether he has met, from the strangers with whom he was 
 left, the tenderness and care which his friends ought to 
 have paid him." 
 
 " Will you promise then," he answered, " not to go away 
 till I come back ? for I have no great ambition to sacrifice 
 the living for the dead." 
 
 " I will promise nothing, sir," said she, shocked at his 
 callous insensibility ; " but if you refuse this last poor office, 
 I must apply elsewhere ; and firmly I believe there is no 
 other I can ask who will a moment hesitate in complying." 
 
 She then went back to Mrs. Harrel, leaving, however, an 
 impression upon the mind of Sir Robert, that made him no 
 longer dare dispute her commands. 
 
 Her next solicitude was how they should return to town : 
 they had no equipage of their own, and the only servant 
 who came with them was employed in performing the last 
 duties for his deceased master. Her first intention was to 
 order a hackney coach, but the deplorable state of Mrs. 
 Harrel made it almost impossible she could take the sole 
 care of her, and the lateness of the night, and their dis- 
 tance from home, gave her a dread invincible to going so 
 far without some guard or assistant. Mr. Harriot earnestly 
 desired to have the honour of conveying them to Portman- 
 square in his own carriage, and notwithstanding there were 
 many objections to such a proposal, the humanity of his 
 behaviour upon the present occasion, and the evident vene- 
 ration which accompanied his passion, joined to her en- 
 creasing aversion to the baronet, from whom she could not 
 endure to receive the smallest obligation, determined her, 
 after much perplexity and hesitation, to accept his offer. 
 
 She begged him, therefore, to immediately order his 
 coach, and, happy to obey her, he went out with that design;
 
 CECILIA. 409 
 
 but, instantly coming back, told her, in a low voice, that 
 they must wait some time longer, as the undertaker's people 
 were then entering the garden, and if they stayed not till 
 the removal had taken place, Mrs. Harrel might be shocked 
 with the sight of some of the men, or perhaps even meet 
 the dead body. 
 
 Cecilia, thanking him for this considerate precaution, 
 readily agreed to defer setting out ; devoting, meantime, 
 all her attention to Mrs. Harrel, whose sorrow, though 
 violent, forbad not consolation. But before the garden was 
 cleared, and the carriage ordered, Sir Robert returned ; 
 saying to Cecilia, with an air of parading obedience which 
 seemed to claim some applause, " Miss Beverley, your com- 
 mands have been executed." 
 
 Cecilia made not any answer, and he presently added, 
 " Whenever you choose to go I will order up my coach." 
 
 " My coach, sir," said Mr. Marriot, "will be ordered when 
 the ladies are ready, and I hope to have the honour myself 
 of conducting them to town." 
 
 "No, sir," cried the baronet, "that can never be; my 
 long acquaintance with Mrs. Harrel gives me a prior right 
 to attend her, and I can by no means suffer any other person 
 to rob me of it." 
 
 " I have nothing," said Mr. Marriot, " to say to that, sir ; 
 but Miss Beverley herself has done me the honour to con- 
 sent to make use of my carriage." 
 
 " Miss Beverley, I think," said Sir Robert, extremely 
 piqued, " can never have sent me out of the way in order 
 to execute her own commands, merely to deprive me of 
 the pleasure of attending her and Mrs. Harrel home." 
 
 Cecilia, somewhat alarmed, now sought to lessen the 
 favour of her decision, though she adhered to it without 
 wavering. 
 
 " My intention," said she, " was not to confer, but to 
 receive an obligation ; and I had hoped, while Mr. Marriot 
 assisted us, Sir Robert would be far more humanely em- 
 ployed in taking charge of what we cannot superintend, 
 and yet are infinitely more anxious should not be neglected." 
 
 " That," said Sir Robert, " is all done ; and I hope, there- 
 fore, after sending me upon such an errand, you don't mean 
 to refuse me the pleasure of seeing you to town ? "
 
 410 CECILIA. 
 
 " Sir Robert," said Cecilia, greatly displeased, " I cannot 
 argue with you now ; I have already settled my plan, and 
 I am not at leisure to re-consider it." 
 
 Sir Robert bit his lips for a moment in angry silence ; but 
 not enduring to lose the victory to a young rival he despised, 
 he presently said, " If I must talk no more about it to you, 
 madam, I must at least beg leave to talk of it to this gentle- 
 man, and take the liberty to represent to him " 
 
 Cecilia now, dreading how his speech might be answered, 
 prevented its being finished, and with an air of the most 
 spirited dignity, said, " Is it possible, sir, that at a time 
 such as this, you should not be wholly indifferent to a 
 matter so frivolous r little indeed will be the pleasure which 
 our society can afford ! your dispute, however, has given it 
 some importance, and therefore Mr. Marriot must accept 
 my thanks for his civility, and excuse me for retracting my 
 consent." 
 
 Supplications and remonstrances were, however, still 
 poured upon her by both, and the danger, the impossibility 
 that two ladies could go to town alone, in a hackney coach, 
 and without even a servant, at near four o'clock in the 
 morning, they mutually urged, vehemently entreating that 
 she would run no such hazard. 
 
 Cecilia was far other than insensible to these representa- 
 tions : the danger, indeed, appeared to her so formidable, 
 that her inclination the whole time opposed her refusal ; 
 yet her repugnance to giving way to the overbearing baronet, 
 and her fear of his resentment if she listened to Mr. Marriot, 
 forced her to be steady, since she saw that her preference 
 would prove the signal of a quarrel. 
 
 Inattentive, therefore, to their joint persecution, she again 
 deliberated by what possible method she could get home in 
 safety ; but unable to devise any, she at last resolved to 
 make enquiries of the people in the bar, who had been ex- 
 tremely humane and civil, whether they could assist or 
 counsel her. She therefore desired the two gentlemen to 
 take care of Mrs. Harrel, to which neither dared dissent, 
 as both could not refuse, and hastily arising, went out of 
 the room ; but great indeed was her surprise when, as she 
 was walking up to the bar, she was addressed by young 
 Delvile !
 
 CECILIA. 411 
 
 Approaching her with that air of 'gravity and distance 
 which of late he had assumed in her presence, he was be- 
 ginning some speech about his mother ; but the instant the 
 sound of his voice reached Cecilia, she joyfully clasped her 
 hands, and eagerly exclaimed, " Mr. Delvile ! now we 
 are safe ! this is fortunate indeed ! " 
 
 " Safe, madam," cried he astonished, "yes, I hope so I 
 Has anything endangered your safety ? " 
 
 " 0, no matter for danger," cried she ; " we will now trust 
 ourselves with you, and I am sure you will protect us." 
 
 " Protect you ! " repeated he again, and with warmth, 
 " yes, while I live ! But what is the matter ? why are 
 you so pale ? are you ill ? are you frightened ? what is 
 the matter ? " 
 
 And losing all coldness and reserve, with the utmost ear- 
 nestness be begged her to explain herself. 
 
 "Do you not know," cried she, "what has happened? 
 Can you be here, and not have heard it ? " 
 
 " Heard what ? " cried he ; "I am but this moment 
 arrived : my mother grew uneasy that she did not see you ; 
 she sent to your house, and was told that you were not 
 returned from Yauxhall ; some other circumstances also 
 alarmed her, and therefore, late as it was, I came hither 
 myself. The instant I entered this place, I saw you here. 
 This is all my history ; tell me now yours. Where is your 
 party ? where are Mr. and Mrs. Harrel ? Why are you 
 alone ? " 
 
 " ask not ! " cried she, " I cannot tell you ! take us 
 but under your care, and you will soon know all." 
 
 She then hurried from him, and returning to Mrs. Harrel, 
 said she had now a conveyance at once safe and proper, and 
 begged her to rise and come away. 
 
 The gentlemen, however, rose first, each of them declaring 
 he would himself attend them. 
 
 " No," said Cecilia, steadily, " that trouble will now be 
 superfluous : Mrs. Delvile herself has sent for me, and her 
 son is now waiting till we join him." 
 
 Amazement and disappointment at this intelligence were 
 visible in the faces of them both : Cecilia waited not a single 
 question, but finding she was unable to support Mrs. Harrel, 
 who rather suffered herself to be carried than led, she
 
 412 CECILIA. 
 
 entrusted her between them, and ran forward to enquire of 
 Delvile if his carriage was ready. 
 
 She found him with a look of horror that told the tale 
 he had been hearing, listening to one of the waiters : the 
 moment she appeared, he flew to her, and with the utmost 
 emotion exclaimed, " Amiable Miss Beverley ! what a 
 dreadfnl scene have you witnessed ! what a cruel task have 
 you nobly performed ! such spirit with such softness ! so 
 much presence of mind with such feeling ! But you are 
 all excellence ! human nature can rise no higher ! I be- 
 lieve, indeed, you are its most perfect ornament ! " 
 
 Praise such as this, so unexpected, and delivered with 
 such energy, Cecilia heard not without pleasure, even at a 
 moment when her whole mind was occupied by matters 
 foreign to its peculiar interests. She made, however, her 
 enquiry about the carriage, and he told her that he had 
 come in a hackney coach, which was waiting for him at 
 the door. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel was now brought in, and little was the 
 recompence her assistants received for their aid, when they 
 saw Cecilia so contentedly engaged with young Delvile, 
 whose eyes were rivetted on her face, with an expression 
 of the most lively admiration. Each, however, then quitted 
 the other, and hastened to the fair mourner ; no time was 
 now lost, Mrs. Harrel was supported to the coach, Cecilia 
 followed her, and Delvile, jumping in after them, ordered 
 the man to drive to Portman-square. 
 
 Sir Robert and Mr. Marriot, confounded though enraged, 
 saw their departure in passive silence : the right of atten- 
 dance they had so tenaciously denied to each other, here 
 admitted not of dispute: Delvile upon this occasion ap- 
 peared as the representative of his father, and his authority 
 seemed the authority of a guardian. Their only consola- 
 tion was, that neither had yielded to the other, and all 
 spirit of altercation or revenge was sunk in their mutual 
 mortification. At the petition of the waiters, from sullen 
 but proud emulation, they paid the expences of the night ; 
 and then throwing themselves into their carriages, returned 
 to their respective houses. 1 
 
 1 " I think nothing struck me more forcibly than the Foxhall scene ; 
 it is finely, it i powerfully imagined ; it is a noble piece of morality !
 
 CECILIA. 413- 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A SOLUTION. 
 
 DURING- the ride to town, not merely Cecilia, but 
 Del vile himself attended wholly to Mrs. HarreL 
 whose grief, as it became less violent, was more easy to be 
 soothed. 
 
 The distress of this eventful night was however not yet 
 over ; when they came to Portland-square, Delvile eagerly 
 called to the coachman not to drive up to the house, and' 
 anxiously begged Cecilia and Mrs. Harrel to sit still while 
 he went out himself to make some enquiries. They were 
 surprised at the request, yet immediately consented ; but 
 before he had quitted them, Davison, who was watching 
 their return, came up to them with information that an 
 execution was then in the house. 
 
 Fresh misery was now opened for Mrs. Harrel, and fresh 
 horror and perplexity for Cecilia. She had no longer, how- 
 ever, the whole weight either of thought or of conduct upon 
 herself; Delvile in her cares took the most animated 
 interest ; and beseeching her to wait a moment and ap- 
 pease her friend, he went himself into the house to learn the 
 state of the affair. 
 
 He returned in a few minutes, and seemed in no haste 
 to communicate what he had heard, but entreated them 
 both to go immediately to St. James's-square. 
 
 Cecilia felt extremely fearful of offending his father by 
 the introduction of Mrs. Harrel ; yet she had nothing better 
 to propose, and therefore, after a short and distressed argu- 
 ment, she complied. 
 
 Delvile then told her that the alarm of his mother, at 
 which he had already hinted, proceeded from a rumour of this 
 
 the variety the contrast of the different characters quite new and 
 unhackneyed, and yet perfectly in nature ; and the dreadful catastrophe 
 that concludes the whole makes it a masterpiece." Mr. Crisp to Mist 
 Burney, Sept. 25, 1782.
 
 414 CECILIA. 
 
 very misfortune, to which, though they knew not whether 
 they might give credit, was owing the anxiety which at so 
 late an hour had induced him to go to Vauxhall in search 
 of her. 
 
 They gained admittance without any disturbance, as the 
 servant of young Delvile had been ordered to sit up for 
 his master. Cecilia much disliked thus taking possession 
 of the house in the night-time, though Delvile, solicitous 
 to relieve her, desired she would not waste a thought upon 
 the subject, and making his servant show her the room 
 which had been prepared for her reception, he begged her 
 to compose her spirits, and to comfort her friend, and pro- 
 mised to acquaint his father and mother, when they arose, 
 with what had happened, that she might be saved all pain 
 from surprise or curiosity when they met. 
 
 This service she thankfully accepted, for she dreaded, 
 after the liberty she had taken, to encounter the pride of 
 Mr. Delvile without some previous apology ; and she feared 
 still more to see his lady without the same preparation, as 
 her frequent breach of appointment might reasonably have 
 offended her, and as her displeasure would affect her more 
 deeply. 
 
 It was now near six o'clock, yet the hours seemed as 
 long as they were melancholy till the family arose. They 
 settled to remain quiet till some message was sent to them ; 
 but before any arrived, Mrs. Harrel, who was seated upon 
 the bed, wearied by fatigue and sorrow, cried herself to sleep 
 like a child. 
 
 Cecilia rejoiced in seeing this reprieve from affliction, 
 though her keener sensations unfitted her from partaking 
 of it. Much indeed was the uneasiness which kept her 
 awake ; the care of Mrs. Harrel seemed to devolve upon 
 herself, the reception she might meet from the Delviles was 
 uncertain, and the horrible adventures of the night refused 
 for a moment to quit her remembrance. 
 
 At ten o'clock, a message was brought from Mrs. Delvile, 
 to know whether they were ready for breakfast. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel was still asleep, but Cecilia carried her own 
 answer by hastening down stairs. 
 
 In her way she was met by young Delvile, whose air, 
 upon first approaching her, spoke him again prepared to
 
 CECILIA. 415 
 
 address her with the most distant gravity : but almost the 
 moment he looked at her, he forgot his purpose ; her pale- 
 ness, the heaviness of her eyes, and the fatigue of long 
 watching betrayed by her whole face, again surprised him 
 into all the tenderness of anxiety, and he enquired after 
 her health not as a compliment of civility, but as a question 
 in which his whole heart was most deeply interested. 
 
 Cecilia thanked him for his attention to her friend the 
 night before, and then proceeded to his mother. 
 
 Mrs. Delvile, coming forward to meet her, removed at 
 once all her fears of displeasure, and banished all necessity 
 of apology, by instantly embracing her, and warmly ex- 
 claiming, " Charming Miss Beverley ! how shall I ever tell 
 you half the admiration with which I have heard of your 
 conduct ! The exertion of so much fortitude, at a juncture 
 when a weaker mind would have been overpowered by 
 terror ; and a heart less under the dominion of well-regulated 
 principles, would have sought only its own relief by flying 
 from distress and confusion, shows such propriety of 'mind 
 as can only result from the union of good sense with virtue. 
 You are indeed a noble creature ! I thought so from the 
 moment I beheld you ; I shall think so, I hope, to the last 
 that I live ! " 
 
 Cecilia, penetrated with joy and gratitude, felt in that 
 instant the amplest recompense for all that she had suffered, 
 and for all that she had lost. Such praise from Mrs. Delvile 
 was alone sufficient to make her happy ; but when she con- 
 sidered whence it sprung, and that the circumstances with 
 which she was so much struck, must have been related to 
 her by her son, her delight was augmented to an emotion 
 the most pleasing she could experience, from seeing how 
 high she was held in the esteem of those who were highest 
 in her own. 
 
 Mrs. Delvile then, with the utmost cordiality, began to 
 talk of her affairs, saving her the pain of proposing the 
 change of habitation that now seemed unavoidable, by an 
 immediate invitation to her house, which she made with as 
 much delicacy as if Mr. Harrel's had still been open to her, 
 and choice, not necessity, had directed her removal. The 
 whole family, she told her, went into the country in two 
 days ; and she hoped that a new scene, with quietness and
 
 416 CECILIA. 
 
 early hours, would restore both the bloom and sprightliness 
 which her late cares and restlessness had injured. And 
 though she very seriously lamented the rash action of Mr. 
 Harrel, she much rejoiced in the acquisition which her own 
 house and happiness would receive from her society. 
 
 She next discussed the situation of her widowed friend, 
 and Cecilia produced the packet which had been entrusted 
 to her by her late husband. Mrs. Delvile advised her to open 
 it in the presence of Mr. Arnott, and begged her to send 
 for any other of her friends she might wish to see or con- 
 sult, and to claim freely from herself whatever advice or 
 assistance she could bestow. 
 
 And then, without waiting for Mr. Delvile, she suffered 
 her to swallow a hasty breakfast, and return to Mrs. Harrel, 
 whom she had desired the servants to attend, as she con- 
 cluded that in her present situation she would not choose 
 to make her appearance. 
 
 Cecilia, lightened now from all her own cares, more 
 pleased than ever with Mrs. Delvile, and enchanted that at 
 last she was settled under her roof, went back with as much 
 ability as inclination to give comfort to Mrs. Harrel. She 
 found her but just awaking, and scarce yet conscious where 
 she was, or why not in her own house. 
 
 As her powers of recollection returned, she was soothed 
 with the softest compassion by Cecilia, who, in pursuance 
 of Mrs. Delvile's advice, sent her servant in search of Mr. 
 Arnott, and in consequence of her permission, wrote a note 
 of invitation to Mr. Monckton. 
 
 Mr. Arnott, who was already in town, soon arrived ; his 
 own man, whom he had left to watch the motions of Mr. 
 Harrel, having early in the morning rode to the place of 
 his retreat, with the melancholy tidings of the suicide and 
 execution. 
 
 Cecilia instantly went down stairs to him. The meeting 
 was extremely painful to them both. Mr. Arnott severely 
 blamed himself for his flight, believing it had hastened the 
 fatal blow, which some further sacrifices might perhaps 
 have eluded ; and Cecilia half repented the advice she had 
 given him, though the failure of her own efforts proved 
 the situation of Mr. Harrel too desperate for remedy. 
 
 He then made the tenderest enquiries about his sister,
 
 CECILIA. 417 
 
 and entreated her to communicate to him the minutest 
 particulars of the dreadful transaction : after which, she 
 produced the packet, but neither of them had the courage 
 to break the seal ; and concluding the contents would be 
 no less than his last will, they determined some third person 
 should be present when they opened it. Cecilia wished 
 much for Mr. Monckton, but as his being immediately found 
 was uncertain, and the packet might consist of orders which 
 ought not to be delayed, she proposed, for the sake of ex- 
 pedition, to call in Mr. Delvile. 
 
 Mr. Arnott readily agreed, and she sent to beg a moment's 
 audience with that gentleman. 
 
 She was desired to walk into the breakfast-room, where 
 he was sitting with his lady and his son. 
 
 Not such was now her reception as when she entered that 
 apartment before. Mr. Delvile looked displeased and out of 
 humour, and, making her a stiff bow, while his son brought 
 her a chair, coldly said, " If you are hurried, Miss Beverley, 
 I will attend you directly; if not, I will finish my break- 
 fast, as I shall have but little time the rest of the morning, 
 from the concourse of people upon business who will crowd 
 upon me till dinner, most of whom will be extremely dis- 
 tressed if I leave town without contriving to see them." 
 
 " There is not the least occasion, sir," answered Cecilia, 
 " that I should trouble you to quit the room : I merely 
 came to beg you would have the goodness to be present, 
 while Mr. Arnott opens a small packet which was last night 
 put into my hands by Mr. Harrel." 
 
 " And has Mr. Arnott," answered he, somewhat sternly, 
 " thought proper to send me such a request ? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Cecilia, " the request is mine ; and if, 
 as I now fear, it is impertinent, I must entreat you to 
 forget it." 
 
 "As far as relates merely to yourself, "returned Mr. Delvile, 
 " it is another matter ; but certainly Mr. Arnott can have no 
 possible claim upon my time or attention ; and I think it 
 rather extraordinary, that a young man with whom I have 
 no sort of connection or commerce, and whose very name 
 is almost unknown to me, should suppose a person in my 
 style of life so little occupied as to be wholly at his com- 
 mand." 
 
 E R
 
 418 CECILIA. 
 
 "He had no such idea, sir," said Cecilia, greatly dis- 
 concerted ; " the honour of your presence is merely solicited 
 by myself, and simply from the apprehension that some 
 directions may be contained in the papers, which, perhaps, 
 ought immediately to be executed." 
 
 " I am not, I repeat," said Mr. Delvile, more mildly, 
 " displeased at your part of this transaction ; your want of 
 experience and knowledge of the world makes you not at 
 all aware of the consequences which may follow my com- 
 pliance : the papers you speak of may perhaps be of great 
 importance, and hereafter the first witnesses to their being 
 read may be publicly called upon. You know not the trouble 
 such an affair may occasion, but Mr. Arnott ought to be 
 better informed." 
 
 Cecilia, making another apology for the error which she 
 Lad committed, was in no small confusion quitting the 
 room ; but Mr. Delvile, perfectly appeased by seeing her 
 distress, stopt her to say, with much graciousness, " For 
 your sake, Miss Beverley, I am sorry I cannot act in this 
 business ; but you see how I am situated ! overpowered 
 with affairs of my own, and people who can do nothing 
 without my orders. Besides, should there hereafter be any 
 investigation into the matter, my name might, perhaps, be 
 mentioned ; and it would be superfluous to say how ill 
 I should think it used by being brought into such com- 
 pany." 
 
 Cecilia then left the room, secretly vowing that no pos- 
 sible exigence should in future tempt her to apply for 
 assistance to Mr. Delvile, which, however ostentatiously 
 offered, was constantly with-held when claimed. 
 
 She was beginning to communicate to Mr. Arnott her ill 
 success, when young Delvile, with an air of eagerness, fol- 
 lowed her into the room. " Pardon me," he cried, " for 
 this intrusion, but, tell me, is it impossible that in this 
 affair I can represent my father ? may not the office you 
 meant for him, devolve upon me ? remember how near we 
 are to each other, and honour me for once by supposing us 
 the same ! " 
 
 " Ah, who, or what," thought Cecilia, " can be so dif- 
 ferent !" She thanked him, with much sweetness, for his 
 offer, but declined accepting it, saying, " I will not, now I
 
 CECILIA. 419 
 
 know the inconveniencies of my request, be so selfish as even 
 to suffer it should be granted." 
 
 "You must not deny me," cried he ; " where is the packet ? 
 why should you lose a moment ? " 
 
 " Rather ask," answered she, " why I should permit you 
 to lose a moment in a matter that does not concern you r 
 and to risk, perhaps, the loss of many moments hereafter, 
 from a too incautious politeness." " And what can I risk," 
 cried he, "half so precious as your smallest satisfaction ? 
 Do you suppose I can natter myself with a possibility of 
 contributing to it, and yet have the resolution to refuse 
 myself so much pleasure ? No, no, the heroic times are over, 
 and self-denial is no longer in fashion ! " 
 
 "You are very good," said Cecilia: "but indeed after 
 what has passed " 
 
 " No matter for what has passed," interrupted he, " we 
 are now to think of what is to come. I know you too well 
 to doubt your impatience in the execution of a commission 
 which circumstances have rendered sacred ; and should any 
 thing either be done or omitted contrary to the directions 
 in your packet, will you not be apt, blameless as you are, 
 to disturb yourself with a thousand fears that you took not 
 proper methods for the discharge of your trust ? " 
 
 There was something in this earnestness so like his former 
 behaviour, and so far removed from his late reserve, that 
 Cecilia, who perceived it with a pleasure she could hardly 
 disguise, now opposed him no longer, but took up the packet, 
 and broke the seal. 
 
 And then, to her no small amazement, instead of the 
 expected will, she found a roll of enormous bills, and a col- 
 lection of letters from various creditors, threatening the 
 utmost severity of the law, if their demands were longer 
 unanswered. 
 
 Upon a slip of paper which held these together, was 
 written, in Mr. Barrel's hand, 
 
 To be all paid to-night with a BULLET. 
 
 Next appeared two letters of another sort ; the first of 
 which was from Sir Robert Floyer, and in these words : 
 
 SIR, 
 As all prospects are now over of the alliance, I hope you
 
 420 CECILIA. 
 
 will excuse my reminding you of the affair at Brookes's 1 of 
 last Christmas. I have the honour to be, 
 
 SIR, Tour's, 
 
 R. FLOTER. 
 
 The other was from Mr. Harriot. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 Though I should think 2,000 nothing for the smallest 
 hope, I must take the liberty to say I think it a great deal 
 for only ten minutes : you can't have forgot, Sir, the terms 
 of our agreement, but as I find you cannot keep to them, I 
 must beg to be off also on my side ; and I am persuaded 
 you are too much a man of honour to take advantage of 
 my over-eagerness in parting with my money without better 
 security. 
 
 I am, SIR, 
 
 Your most humble servant, 
 
 A. HARRIOT. 
 
 What a scene of fraud, double-dealing, and iniquity was 
 here laid open ! Cecilia, who at first meant to read every 
 thing aloud, found the attempt utterly vain, for so much 
 was she shocked, that she could hardly read on to herself. 
 
 Last of all appeared a paper in Hr. Barrel's own hand- 
 writing, containing these words : 
 
 For Mrs. HARRKL, Miss BEVERLEY, and Mr. ARXOTT. 
 
 I can struggle no longer, the last blow must now be 
 struck ! another day robs me of my house and my liberty, 
 and blasts me by the fatal discovery of my double attempts. 
 
 This is what I have wished ; wholly to be freed, or ruined 
 past all resource, and driven to the long-projected remedy. 
 
 A burthen has my existence been these two years, eay 
 as I have appeared ; not a night have I gone to bed, but 
 
 1 Brooks's Club was originally a gaming society. It was begun by 
 Alrnack, and carried on by Brooks, a wine merchant and money-lender, 
 who opened the present house in 1778. 
 
 " Some of the original rules, which I have been permitted to inspect, 
 will show the nature of the club." CUNNINGHAM. 
 
 " Rule 40. That every person playing at the new quinze table do 
 keep filty guineas before him. 41. That every person playing at the 
 twenty guinea table do not keep less than twenty guineas before him."
 
 CECILIA. 421 
 
 heated and inflamed from a gaming table; not a morning 
 have I awaked, but to be soured with a dun ! 
 
 I would not lead such a life again, if the slave who works 
 hardest at the oar would change with me. 
 
 Had I a son, I would bequeath him a plough ; I should 
 then leave him happier than my parents left me. 
 
 Idleness has been my destruction ; the want of something 
 to do led me into all evil. 
 
 A good wife perhaps might have saved me, mine, I thank 
 her ! tried not. Disengaged from me and my affairs, her 
 own pleasures and amusements have occupied her solely. 
 Dreadful will be the catastrophe she will see to-night ; let 
 her bring it home, and live better ! 
 
 If any pity is felt for me, it will be where I have least 
 deserved it ! Mr. Arnott Miss Beverley ! it will come from 
 you! 
 
 To bring myself to this final resolution, hard, I confess, 
 have been my conflicts : it is not that I have feared death, 
 no, I have long wished it, for shame and dread have em- 
 bittered my days ; but something there is within me that 
 causes a deeper horror, that asks my preparation for 
 another world ! that demands my authority for quitting 
 
 this ! what may hereafter O terrible ! Pray for me, 
 
 generous Miss Beverley ! kind, gentle Mr. Arnott, pray 
 
 for me ! 
 
 Wretch as Mr. Harrel appeared, without religion, prin- 
 ciple, or honour, this incoherent letter, evidently written in 
 the desperate moment of determined suicide, very much 
 affected both Cecilia and Mr. Arnott ; and in spite either of 
 abhorrence or resentment, they mutually shed tears over 
 the address to themselves. 
 
 Delvile, to whom every part of the affair was new, could 
 only consider these papers as so many specimens of guilt 
 and infamy ; he read them, therefore, with astonishment 
 and detestation, and openly congratulated Cecilia upon hav- 
 ing escaped the double snares that were spread for her. 
 
 While this was passing, Mr. Monckton arrived ; who felt 
 but little satisfaction from beholding the lady of his heart 
 in confidential discourse with two of his rivals, one of whom 
 had long attacked her by the dangerous flattery of perse-
 
 422 CECILIA. 
 
 verance, and the other, without any attack, had an influence 
 yet more powerful. 
 
 Delvile, having performed the office for which he came, 
 concluded, upon the entrance of Mr. Monckton, that Cecilia 
 had nothing further to wish from him ; for her long ac- 
 quaintance with that gentleman, his being a married >//, 
 and her neighbour in the country, were circumstances well 
 known to him : he merely, therefore, enquired if she would 
 honour him with any commands, and upon her assuring him 
 she had none, he quietly withdrew. 
 
 This was no little relief to Mr. Monckton, into whose 
 Lands Cecilia then put the fatal packet ; and while he was 
 reading it, at the desire of Mr. Arnott, she went up stairs 
 to prepare Mrs. Harrel for his admission. 
 
 Mrs. Harrel, unused to solitude, and as eager for company 
 when unhappy to console, as when easy to divert her, con- 
 sented to receive him with pleasure : they both wept at the 
 meeting ; and Cecilia, after some words of general comfort, 
 left them together. 
 
 She had then a very long and circumstantial conversation 
 with Mr. Monckton, who explained whatever had appeared 
 dark in the writings left by Mr. Harrel, and who came to 
 her before he saw them, with full knowledge of what they 
 contained. 
 
 Mr. Harrel had contracted with Sir Robert Floyer a large 
 debt of honour, before the arrival in town of Cecilia ; and 
 having no power to discharge it, he promised that the prize 
 he expected in his ward should fall to his share, upon con- 
 dition that the debt was cancelled. 
 
 Nothing was thought more easy than to arrange this 
 business, for the baronet was always to be in her way, and 
 the report of the intended alliance was to keep off all other 
 pretenders. Several times, however, her coldness made him 
 think the matter hopeless ; and when he received her letter, 
 he would have given up the whole affair: but Mr. Harrel, 
 well knowing his inability to satisfy the claims that would 
 follow such a defection, constantly persuaded him the re- 
 serve was affected, and that his own pride and want of 
 assiduity occasioned all her discouragement. 
 
 But while thus, by amusing the baronet with false hopes, 
 he kept off his demands, those of others were not less
 
 CECILIA. 423 
 
 clamorous : his debts encreased, his power of paying them 
 diminished ; he grew sour and desperate, and in one night 
 lost 3,000 beyond what he could produce, or offer any se- 
 curity for. 
 
 This, as he said, was what lie wished ; and now he was, 
 for the present, to extricate himself by doubling stakes and 
 winning, or to force himself into suicide by doubling such 
 a loss. For though, with tolerable ease, he could forget 
 accounts innumerable with his tradesmen, one neglected 
 debt of honour rendered his existence insupportable ! 
 
 For this last great effort, his difficulty was to raise the 
 3,000 already due, without which the proposal could not 
 be made ; and, after various artifices and attempts, he at 
 length contrived a meeting with Mr. Harriot, intreated him 
 to lend him 2,000 for only two days, and offered his 
 warmest services in his favour with Cecilia. 
 
 The rash and impassioned young man, deceived by his 
 accounts into believing that his ward was wholly at his dis- 
 posal, readily advanced the money, without any other con- 
 dition than that of leave to visit freely at his house, to the 
 exclusion of Sir Robert Floyer. " The other 1,000," con- 
 tinued Mr. Monckton, " I know not how he obtained, but 
 he certainly had three. You, I hope, were not so un- 
 guarded " 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Monckton," said Cecilia, " blame me not too 
 severely ! the attacks that were made, the necessity of 
 otherwise betraying the worthy and half-ruined Mr. 
 Arnott " 
 
 "0 fie ! " cried he, " to suffer your understanding to be 
 lulled asleep, because the weak-minded Mr. Arnott's could 
 not be kept awake ! I thought, after such cautions from 
 me, and such experience of your own, you could not again 
 have been thus duped." 
 
 " I thought so too," answered she ; " but yet when the 
 trial came on, indeed you know not how I was perse- 
 cuted." 
 
 " Yet you see," returned he, " the utter inutility of the 
 attempt ; you see, and I told you before-hand, that nothing 
 could save him." 
 
 " True ; but had I been firmer in refusal, I might not so 
 well have known it; I might then have upbraided myself
 
 424 CECILIA. 
 
 with supposing that my compliance would have rescued 
 him." 
 
 " You have indeed," cried Mr. Monckton, " fallen into 
 most worthless hands, and the Dean was much to blame 
 for naming so lightly a guardian to a fortune such as 
 yours." 
 
 " Pardon me," cried Cecilia, " he never entrusted him 
 with my fortune, he committed it wholly to Mr. Briggs." 
 
 " But if he knew not the various subterfuges by which 
 such a caution might be baffled, he ought to have taken 
 advice of those who were better informed. Mr. Briggs, 
 too ! what a wretch ! mean, low, vulgar, sordid ! the 
 whole city of London, I believe, could not produce such 
 another ! how unaccountable to make you the ward of a 
 man whose house you cannot enter without disgust ! " 
 
 " His house," cried Cecilia, " my uncle never wished me 
 to enter : he believed, and he was right, that my fortune 
 would be safe in his hands ; but for myself, he concluded I 
 should always reside at Mr. Harrel's." 
 
 " But does not the city at this time," said Mr. Monckton, 
 " abound in families where, while your fortune was in se- 
 curity, you might yourself have lived with propriety ? 
 Nothing requires circumspection so minute as the choice of 
 a guardian to a girl of large fortune ; and in general one 
 thing only is attended to, an appearance of property. 
 Morals, integrity, character, are either not thought of, or 
 investigated so superficially, that the enquiry were as well 
 wholly omitted." 
 
 He then continued his relation. 
 
 Mr. Harrel hastened with his 3,000 to the gaming 
 table ; one throw of the dice settled the business ; he lost, 
 and ought immediately to have doubled the sum. That, 
 however, was never more likely to be in his power ; he 
 knew it ; he knew, too, the joint claims of Cecilia's deceived 
 admirers, and that his house was again threatened with 
 executions from various quarters : he went home, loaded 
 his pistols, and took the methods already related to work 
 himself into courage for the deed. 
 
 The means by which Mr. Monckton had procured these 
 particulars were many and various, and not all such as he 
 could avow ; since, in the course of his researches, he had
 
 CECILIA. 425 
 
 tampered with servants and waiters, and scrupled at no 
 methods that led but to discovery. 
 
 Nor did his intelligence stop here. He had often, he 
 said, wondered at the patience of Mr. Barrel's creditors, 
 but now even that was cleared up by a fresh proof of in- 
 famy : he had been himself at the house in Portman-square, 
 where he was informed that Mr. Harrel had kept them 
 quiet, by repeated assurances that his ward, in a short 
 time, meant to lend him money for discharging them all. 
 
 Cecilia saw now but too clearly the reason her stay in his 
 house was so important to him ; and wondered less at his 
 vehemence upon that subject, though she detested it more. 
 
 " Oh, how little," cried she, " are the gay and the dissi- 
 pated to be known upon a short acquaintance ! Expensive, 
 indeed, and thoughtless and luxurious he appeared to me 
 immediately ; but fraudulent, base, designing, capable of 
 every pernicious art of treachery and duplicity, such, in- 
 deed, I expected not to find him ; his very flightiness and 
 levity seemed incompatible with such hypocrisy." 
 
 " His flightiness," said Mr. Monckton, " proceeded not 
 from gaiety of heart, it was merely the effect of effort ; and 
 his spirits were as mechanical as his taste for diversion. 
 He had not strong parts, nor were his vices the result of 
 his passions ; had economy been as much in fashion as ex- 
 travagance, he would have been equally eager to practise 
 it ; he was a mere time-server, he struggled but to be some- 
 thing, and having neither talents nor sentiment to know 
 what, he looked around him for any pursuit, and seeing dis- 
 tinction was more easily attained in the road to ruin than 
 in any other, he galloped along it, thoughtless of being 
 thrown when he came to the bottom, and sufficiently grati- 
 fied in showing his horsemanship by the way." 
 
 And now, all that he had either to hear or to communi- 
 cate upon this subject being told, he enquired, with a face 
 strongly expressive of his disapprobation, why he found her 
 at Mr. Delvile's, and what had become of her resolution to 
 avoid his house ? 
 
 Cecilia, who, in the hurry of her mind and her affairs, had 
 wholly forgotten that such a resolution had been taken, 
 blushed at the question, and could not, at first, recollect 
 what had urged her to break it : but when he proceeded to
 
 42G CECILIA. 
 
 mention Mr. Briggs, she was no longer distressed ; she gave 
 a circumstantial account of her visit to him, related the 
 mean misery in which he lived, and told him the impracti- 
 cability of her residing in such a house. 
 
 Mr. Monckton could now in decency make no further op- 
 position, however painful and reluctant was his acquiescence : 
 jet before he quitted her, he gave himself the consolation 
 of considerably obliging her, and softened his chagrin by 
 the sweetness of her acknowledgments. 
 
 He enquired how much money, in all, she had now taken 
 up of the Jew ; and hearing it was 9,050, he represented 
 to her the additional loss she must suffer by paying an ex- 
 orbitant interest for so large a sum, and the almost certainty 
 with which she might be assured of very gross imposition : 
 he expatiated, also, upon the injury which her character 
 might receive in the world, were it known that she used 
 such methods to procure money, since the circumstances 
 which had been her inducement would probably either be 
 unnoticed or misrepresented ; and when he had awakened 
 in her much uneasiness and regret upon this subject, he 
 offered to pay the Jew without delay, clear her wholly from 
 his power, and quietly receive the money when she came of 
 age from herself. 
 
 A proposal so truly friendly made her look upon the re- 
 gard of Mr. Monckton in a higher and nobler point of view 
 than her utmost esteem and reverence had hitherto placed 
 it : yet she declined at first accepting the offer, from an ap- 
 prehension it might occasion him inconvenience ; but when 
 he assured her he had a yet larger sum lying at present 
 useless in a banker's hands, and promised to receive the 
 same interest for his money he should be paid from the 
 funds, she joyfully listened to him ; and it was settled that 
 they should send for the Jew, take his discharge, and utterly 
 dismiss him. 
 
 Mr. Monckton, however, fearful of appearing too officious 
 in her affairs, wished not to have his part in the transaction 
 published, and advised Cecilia not to reveal the matter to 
 the Delviles. But great as was his ascendant over her 
 mind, her aversion to mystery and hypocrisy were still 
 greater ; she would not, therefore, give him this promise, 
 though her own desire to wait some seasonable opportunity
 
 CECILIA. 427 
 
 for disclosing it, made her consent that their meeting with 
 the Jew should be at the house of Mrs. Roberts in Fetter- 
 lane, at twelve o'clock the next morning ; where she might 
 also see Mrs. Hill and her children before she left town. 
 
 They now parted, Cecilia charmed more than ever with 
 her friend, whose kindness, as she suspected not his motives, 
 seemed to spring from the most disinterested generosity. 
 
 That, however, was the smallest feature in the character 
 of Mr. Monckton, who was entirely a man of the world, 
 shrewd, penetrating, attentive to his interest, and watchful 
 of every advantage to improve it. In the service he now 
 did Cecilia, he was gratified by giving her pleasure, but that 
 was by no means his only gratification : he still hoped her 
 fortune would one day be his own, he was glad to transact 
 any business with her, and happy in making her owe to 
 him an obligation : but his principal inducement was yet 
 stronger : he saw with much alarm the facility of her 
 liberality ; and he feared while she continued in corre- 
 spondence with the Jew, that the easiness with which she 
 could raise money would be a motive with her to continue 
 the practice whenever she was softened by distress, or 
 subdued by entreaty : but he hoped, by totally concluding 
 the negotiation, the temptation would be removed : and 
 that the hazard and inconvenience of renewing it, would 
 strengthen her aversion to such an expedient, till, between 
 difficulties and disuse, that dangerous resource would be 
 thought of no more. 
 
 Cecilia then returned to Mrs. Harrel, whom she found 
 as she had left, weeping in the arms of her brother. They 
 consulted upon what was best to be done, and agreed that 
 she ought instantly to leave town; for which purpose a 
 chaise was ordered directly. They settled also that Mr. 
 Arnott, when he had conveyed her to his country house, 
 which was in Suffolk, should hasten back to superintend 
 the funeral, and see if any thing could be saved from the 
 creditors for his sister. 
 
 Yet this plan, till Cecilia was summoned to dinner, they 
 had not the resolution to put in practice. They were then 
 obliged to be gone, and their parting was very melancholy. 
 Mrs. Harrel wept immoderately, and Mr. Arnott felt a 
 concern too tender for avowal, though too sincere for con-
 
 428 , CECILIA. 
 
 cealment. Cecilia, however glad to change her situation, 
 was extremely depressed by their sorrow, and entreated to 
 have frequent accounts of their proceedings, warmly repeat- 
 ing her offers of service, and protestations of faithful regard. 
 
 She accompanied them to the chaise, and then went to 
 the dining parlour, where she found Mr. and Mrs. Delvile, 
 but saw nothing more of their son the whole day. 
 
 The next morning after breakfast, Mrs. Delvile set out 
 upon some leave-taking visits, and Cecilia went in a chair 
 to Fetter-lane : here, already waiting for her, she met the 
 punctual Mr. Monckton, and the disappointed Jew, who 
 most unwillingly was paid off, and relinquished his bonds ; 
 and who found in the severe and crafty Mr. Monckton, 
 another sort of man to deal with than the necessitous and 
 heedless Mr. Harrel. 
 
 As soon as he was dismissed, other bonds were drawn 
 and signed, the old ones were destroyed ; and Cecilia, to 
 her infinite satisfaction, had no creditor but Mr. Monckton. 
 Her bookseller, indeed, was still unpaid, but her debt with 
 him was public, and gave her not any uneasiness. 
 
 She now, with the warmest expressions of gratitude, took 
 leave of Mr. Monckton, who suffered the most painful 
 struggles in repressing the various apprehensions to which 
 the parting, and her establishment at the Delviles gave rise. 
 
 She then enquired briefly into the affairs of Mrs. Hill, 
 and having heard a satisfactory account of them, returned 
 to St. James's-square. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 A DEBATE. 
 
 IT was still early, and Mrs. Delvile was not expected till 
 late. Cecilia, therefore, determined to make a visit to 
 Miss Belfield, to whom she had been denied during the late 
 disorders at Mr. Harrel's, and whom she could not endure 
 to mortify by quitting town without seeing, since whatever 
 were her doubts about Delvile, of her she had none. 
 
 To Portland- street, therefore, she ordered her chair, de- 
 liberating as she went whether it were better to adhere to
 
 CECILIA. 429 
 
 the reserve she had hitherto maintained, or to satisfy her 
 perplexity at once by an investigation into the truth. And 
 still were these scruples undecided, when, looking in at the 
 windows as she passed them to the door of the house, she 
 perceived Miss Belfield standing in the parlour with a letter 
 in her hand which she was fervently pressing to her lips, 
 
 Struck by this sight, a thousand painful conjectures 
 occurred to her, all representing that the letter was from 
 Delvile, and all explaining to his dishonour the mystery of 
 his late conduct. And far were her suspicions from diminish- 
 ing, when, upon being shown into the parlour, Miss Belfield, 
 trembling with her eagerness to hide it, hastily forced the 
 letter into her pocket. 
 
 Cecilia, surprised, dismayed, alarmed, stopt involuntarily 
 at the door ; but Miss Belfield, having secured what was 
 so evidently precious to her, advanced, though not without 
 blushing, and taking her hand, said "How good this is of 
 you, madam, to come to me ! when I did not know where 
 to find you, and when I was almost afraid I should have 
 found you no more ! " 
 
 She then told her, that the first news she had heard the 
 preceding morning, was the violent death of Mr. Harrel, 
 which had been related to her, with all its circumstances, 
 by the landlord of their lodgings, who was himself one of 
 his principal creditors, and had immediately been at Port- 
 man-square to put in his claims ; where he had learnt that 
 all the family had quitted the house, which was entirely 
 occupied by bailiffs. " And I was so sorry," she continued,. 
 " that you should meet with any hardships, and not know 
 where to go, and have another home, to seek, when, I am 
 sure, the commonest beggar would never want an habitation' 
 if you had one in your power to give him ! But how sad 
 and melancholy you look ! I am afraid this bad action of 
 Mr. Harrel has made you quite unhappy ? Ah, madam ! 
 you are too good for this guilty world ! your own compas- 
 sion and benevolence will not suffer you to rest in it ! " 
 
 Cecilia, touched by this tender mistake of her present 
 uneasiness, embraced her, and with much kindness, an- 
 swered, " No, sweet Henrietta ! it is you who are good, 
 who are innocent, who are guileless ! you, too, I hope are 
 happy ! "
 
 430 CECILIA. 
 
 " And are not you, madam ? " cried Henrietta, fondlj 
 returning her caresses. " Oh, if you are not, who will ever 
 deserve to be ! I think I should rather be unhappy myself, 
 than see you so ; at least I am sure I ought, for the whole 
 world may be the better for your welfare, and as to me, 
 who would care what became of me ! " 
 
 "Ah, Henrietta!" cried Cecilia, "do you speak sin- 
 oerely ? do you indeed think yourself so little valued ? " 
 
 " Why, I don't say," answered she, " but that I hope there 
 are some who think a little kindly of me, for if I had not 
 that hope, I should wish to break my heart and die ! but 
 what is that to the love and reverence so many have for 
 you?" 
 
 " Suppose," said Cecilia, with a forced smile, " I should 
 put your love and reverence to the proof ? do you think 
 they would stand it ? " 
 
 " yes, indeed I do ! and I have wished a thousand and 
 a thousand times that I could but show you my affection, 
 and let you see that I did not love you because you were a 
 great lady, and high in the world, and full of power to do 
 me service, but because you were so good and so kind, so 
 .gentle to the unfortunate, and so sweet to everybody ! " 
 
 " Hold, hold ! " cried Cecilia, " and let me try if indeed, 
 fairly and truly, you will answer what I mean to ask." 
 
 " O yes," cried she, warmly, " if it is the dearest secret I 
 have in the world ! there is nothing I will not tell you ; I 
 will open my whole heart to you, and I shall be proud to 
 think you will let me trust you, for I am sure if you did 
 not care a little for me, you would not take such a trouble." 
 
 "You are indeed a sweet creature ! " said Cecilia, hesi- 
 tating whether or not to take advantage of her frankness, 
 " and every time I see you, I love you better. For the 
 world would I not injure you, and perhaps your confidence 
 I know not, indeed, if it is fair or right to exact it " 
 she stopt, extremely perplext, and while Henrietta waited 
 her further enquiries, they were interrupted by the entrance 
 of Mrs. Belfield. 
 
 " Sure, child," cried she, to her daughter, " you might 
 have let me know before now who was here, when you knew 
 well how much I wished an opportunity to see the young 
 .lady myself ; but here you come down upon pretence to see
 
 CECILIA. 431 
 
 your brother, and then stay away all the morning, doing 
 nobody knows what." 
 
 Then, turning to Cecilia, " Ma'am," she continued, " I 
 have been in the greatest concern in the world for the little 
 accident that happened when I saw you before ; for to be 
 sure I thought, and indeed nobody will persuade me to the 
 contrary, that it was rather an odd thing for such a young 
 lady as you to come so often after Henny, without so 
 much as thinking of any other reason ; especially when, to 
 be sure, there's no more comparison between her and my 
 son, than between anything in the world ; however, if it is so, 
 it is so, and I mean to say no more about it, and to be sure 
 he's as contented to think so as if he was as mere an in- 
 significant animal as could be." 
 
 " This matter, madam," said Cecilia, "has so long been 
 settled, that I am sorry you should trouble yourself to think 
 of it again." 
 
 "0, ma'am, I only mention it by the way of making 
 the proper apology, for as to taking any other notice of it, 
 I have quite left it off ; though, to be sure, what I think I 
 think ; but as to my son, he has so got the upper hand of 
 me, that it all goes for nothing, and I might just as well 
 sing to him. Not that I mean to find fault with him, 
 neither ; so pray, ma'am, don't let what I say be to his pre- 
 judice, for I believe all the time, there's nobody like him, 
 neither at this end of the town nor the other ; for as to the 
 other, he has more the look of a lord, by half, than of a 
 shopman, and the reason's plain, for that's the sort of com- 
 pany he's always kept, as I dare say a lady such as you 
 must have seen long ago. But for all that, there's some 
 little matters that we mothers fancy we can see into as 
 well as our children ; however, if they don't think so, why 
 it answers no purpose to dispute ; for as to a better son, to- 
 be sure there never was one, and that, as I always say, is 
 the best sign I know for making a good husband." 
 
 During this discourse, Henrietta was in the utmost con- 
 fusion, dreading lest the grossness of her mother should 
 again send off Cecilia in anger : but Cecilia, who perceived 
 her uneasiness, and who was more charmed with her cha- 
 racter than ever, from the simplicity of her sincerity, de- 
 termined to save her that pain, quietly hearing her harangue,
 
 432 CECILIA. 
 
 and then quietly departing : though she was much provoked 
 to find from the complaining hints every instant thrown 
 out, that Mrs. Belfield was still internally convinced her 
 son's obstinate bashfulness was the only obstacle to his 
 choosing whom he pleased : and that though she no longer 
 dared speak her opinion with openness, she was fully per- 
 suaded Cecilia was at his service. 
 
 " And for that reason," continued Mrs. Belfield, " to be 
 sure any lady that knew her own true advantage, could do 
 nothing better than to take the recommendation of a mother, 
 who must naturally know more of her own children's dis- 
 position than can be expected from a stranger : and as to such 
 a son as mine, perhaps there a'n't two such in the world, 
 for he's had a gentleman's education, and turn him which 
 way he will, he'll see never a handsomer person than his 
 own; though, poor dear love, he was always of the thinnest. 
 But the misfortunes he's had to struggle with would make 
 nobody fatter." 
 
 Here she was interrupted, and Cecilia not a little sur- 
 prised, by the entrance of Mr. Hobson and Mr. Simkins. 
 
 " Ladies," cried Mr. Hobson, whom she soon found was 
 Mrs. Belfield's landlord : " I would not go up stairs without 
 just stopping to let you know a little how the world goes." 
 
 Then perceiving and recollecting Cecilia, he exclaimed, 
 " I am proud to see you again, ma'am, Miss, I believe I 
 should say, for I take it you are too young a lady to be 
 entered into matrimony yet." 
 
 " Matrimony ? " cried Mr. Simkins, " no, to be sure, Mr. 
 Hobson, how can you be so out of the way ? the young lady 
 looks more like a miss from a boarding-school, if I might 
 take the liberty for to say so." 
 
 " Ay, more's the pity," cried Mrs. Belfield, " for as to 
 young ladies waiting and waiting, I don't see the great good 
 of it ; especially if a proper match offers : for as to a good 
 husband, I think no lady should be above accepting him, if 
 he's modest and well-behaved, and has been brought up with 
 a genteel education." 
 
 " Why as to that, ma'am," said Mr. Simkins, " it's another- 
 guess-matter, for as to the lady's having a proper spouse, 
 if I may be so free, I think as it's no bad thing." 
 
 Cecilia, now, taking Henrietta's hand, was wishing her
 
 CECILIA. 433 
 
 good morning ; but hearing Mr. Hobson say he was just 
 come from Portman-square, her curiosity was excited, and 
 she stayed a little longer. 
 
 " Sad work, ma'am," said he ; " who'd have thought Mr. 
 Harrel asked us all to supper for the mere purpose of such 
 a thing as that ! just to serve for a blind, as one may say. 
 But when a man's conscience is foul, what I say is, it's ten 
 to one but he makes away with himself. Let every man 
 keep clear of the world, that's my notion, and then he will 
 be in no such hurry to get out of it." 
 
 "Why indeed, ma'am," said Mr. Simkins, advancing 
 with many bows to Cecilia, " humbly craving pardon for 
 the liberty, I can't pretend for to say I think Mr. Harrel 
 did quite the honourable thing by us ; for as to his making 
 us drink all that champagne, and the like, it was a sheer 
 take-in ; so that, if I was to speak my mind, I can't say as 
 I esteem it much of a favour." 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Belfield, "nothing's to me so surpris- 
 ing as a person's being his own executioner, for as to me, if 
 I was to die for it fifty times, I don't think I could do it." 
 
 " So, here," resumed Mr. Hobson, " we're all defrauded 
 of our dues ! nobody's able to get his own, let him have 
 worked for it ever so hard. Sad doings in the square, 
 Miss ! all at sixes and sevens ; for my part I came off from 
 Vauxhall as soon as the thing had happened, hoping to get 
 the start of the others, or else I should have been proud to 
 wait upon you, ladies, with the particulars : but a man of 
 business never stands upon ceremony, for when money's 
 at stake, that's out of the question. However, I was too 
 late, for the house was seized before ever I could get nigh 
 it." 
 
 " I hope, ma'am, if I may be so free," said Mr. Simkins, 
 again profoundly bowing, " that you and the other lady did 
 not take it much amiss my not coming back to you, for it 
 was not out of no disrespect, but only I got so squeezed in 
 by the ladies and gentlemen that was a looking on, that I 
 could not make my way out, do what I could. But by 
 what I see, I must needs say if one's in never such genteel 
 company, people are always rather of the rudest when one's 
 in a crowd, for if one begs and prays never so, there's no 
 making 'em conformable." 
 
 FF
 
 434 CECILIA, 
 
 " Pray," said Cecilia, " is it likely any tiling -will remain 
 for Mrs. Harrel ? " 
 
 " Remain, ma'am ? " repeated Mr. Hobson, "yes, a matter 
 of a hundred bills without a receipt to 'em ! To be sure, 
 ma'am, I don't want to affront you, that was his intimate 
 acquaintance, more especially as you've done nothing dis- 
 respectful by me, which is more than I can say for Mrs. 
 Harrel, who seemed downright ashamed of me, and of Mr. 
 Simkins too, though, all things considered, 'twould have 
 been as well for her not to have been quite so high. But 
 of that in its proper season ! " 
 
 " Fie, Mr. Hobson, fie ! " cried the supple Mr. Simkins, 
 " how can you be so hard ? for my share, I must needs own 
 I think the poor lady's to be pitied ; for it must have been 
 but a molloncholy sight to her, to see her spouse cut off so 
 in the flower of his youth, as one may say ; and you ought 
 to scorn to take exceptions at a lady's proudness when she's 
 in so much trouble. To be sure, I can't say myself as she 
 was over complaisant to make us welcome ; but I hope I 
 am above being so unpitiful as for to owe her a grudge for 
 it now she's so down in the mouth." 
 
 " Let everybody be civil ! " cried Mr. Hobson, " that's 
 my notion ; and then I shall be as much above being un- 
 pitiful as anybody else." 
 
 "Mrs. Harrel," said Cecilia, " was then too unhappy, and 
 is now, surely, too unfortunate, to make it possible any re- 
 sentment should be harboured against her." 
 
 " You speak, ma'am, like a lady of sense," returned Mr. 
 Hobson, " and, indeed, that's the character I hear of you ; 
 but for all that, ma'am, everybody's willing to stand up for 
 their own friends, for which reason, ma'am, to be sure you'll 
 be making the best of it, both for the relict, and the late 
 gentleman himself ; but, ma'am, if I was to make bold to 
 speak my mind in a fair manner, what I should say would 
 be this : a man here to go shooting himself with all his 
 debts unpaid, is a mere piece of scandal, ma'am ! I beg 
 pardon, but what I say is, the truth's the truth, and I can't 
 call it by no other nomination." 
 
 Cecilia, now, finding she had not any chance of pacifying 
 him, rang for her servant and chair. 
 
 Mr. Simkins, then, affecting to lower his voice, said re-
 
 CECILIA. 435 
 
 proachfully to his friend " Indeed, Mr. Hobson, to speak 
 ingenusly, I must needs say I don't think it over and above 
 pelite in you to be so hard upon the young lady's acquain- 
 tance that was, now he's defunct. To be sure I can't pretend 
 for to deny but he behaved rather .comical ; for not paying 
 of nobody, nor so much as making one a little compliment, 
 or the like, though he made no bones of taking all one's 
 goods, and always choosed to have the prime of every thing, 
 why it's what I can't pretend to stand up for. But that's 
 neither here nor there, for if he had behaved as bad again, 
 poor Miss could not tell how to help it; and I dares to say, 
 she had no more hand in it than nobody at all." 
 
 " No, to be sure," cried Mrs. Belfield, " what should she 
 have to do with it ? do you. suppose a young lady of her 
 fortune would want to take advantage of a person in trade ? 
 I am sure it would be both a shame and a sin if she did, for 
 if she has not money enough, I wonder who has. And for 
 my part, I think when a young lady has such a fine fortune 
 as that, the only thing she has to do, is to be thinking of 
 making a good use of it, by dividing it, as one may say, 
 with a good husband. For as to keeping it all for herself, 
 I dare say she's a lady of too much generosity ; and as to 
 only marrying somebody that's got as much of his own, 
 why it is not half so much a favour : and if the young lady 
 would take my advice, she'd marry for love, for as to lucre, 
 she's enough in all conscience." 
 
 " As to all that," said Mr. Hobson, " it makes no altera- 
 tion in my argument ; I am speaking to the purpose, and 
 not for the matter of complaisance ; and therefore I'm bold 
 to say Mr. Harrel's action had nothing of the gentleman in 
 it. A man has a right to his own life, you'll tell me ; but 
 what of that ? that's no argument at all, for it does not give 
 him a bit the more right to my property ; and a man's run- 
 ning in debt, and spending other people's substances, for no 
 reason in the world but just because he can blow out his own 
 brains when he's done, though it's a thing neither lawful 
 nor religious to do, why it's acting quite out of character, 
 and a great hardship to trade into the bargain." 
 
 " I heartily wish it had been otherwise," said Cecilia, 
 " but I still hope, if any thing can be done for Mrs. Harrel, 
 you will not object to such a proposal."
 
 436 CECILIA. 
 
 " Ma'am, as I said before," returned Mr. Hobson, " I see 
 you're a lady of sense, and for that I honour you ; but as 
 to any thing being done, it's what I call a distinct thing. 
 What's mine is mine, and what's another man's is his ; 
 that's my way of arguing ; but then if he takes what's 
 mine, where's the law to hinder my taking what's his ? 
 This is what I call talking to the purpose. Now as to a 
 man's cutting his throat, or the like of that, for blowing 
 out his own brains may be called the self-same thing, what 
 are his creditors the better for that ? nothing at all, but so 
 much the worse : it's a false notion to respect it, for there's 
 no respect in it; it's contrary to law, and a prejudice 
 against religion." 
 
 " I agree entirely in your opinion," said Cecilia, " but 
 
 still Mrs. Harrel " " I know your argument, ma'am," 
 
 interrupted Mr. Hobson ; " Mrs. Harrel i'n't the worse for 
 her husband's being shot through the head, because she 
 was no accessory to the same, and for that reason, it's a 
 hardship she should lose all her substance ; this, ma'am, is 
 what I say, speaking to your side of the argument. But 
 now, ma'am, please to take notice what I argue upon the 
 reply ; what have we creditors to do with a man's family ? 
 Suppose I am a cabinet-maker ? When I send in my chairs, 
 do I ask who is to sit upon them ? No ; it's all one to me 
 whether it's the gentleman's progeny or his friends ; I must 
 be paid for the chairs the same, use them who may. That's 
 the law, ma'am, and no man need be ashamed to abide by 
 it." 
 
 The truth of this speech palliating its sententious absur- 
 dity, made Cecilia give up her faint attempt to soften him ; 
 and her chair being ready, she arose to take leave. 
 
 " Lack-a-day, ma'am," cried Mrs. Belfield, " I hope you 
 won't go yet, for I expect my son home soon, and I've a 
 heap of things to talk to you about besides, only Mr. Hob- 
 son having so much to say stopt my mouth. But I should 
 take it as a great favour, ma'am, if you would come some 
 afternoon and drink a dish of tea with me, for then we 
 should have time to say all our say. And I'm sure, ma'am, 
 if you would only let one of your footmen just take a run 
 to let me know when you'd come, my son would be very 
 proud to give you the meeting ; and the servants can't have
 
 CECILIA. 437 
 
 much else to do at your house, for where there's such a heap 
 of 'em, they commonly think of nothing all day long but 
 standing and gaping at one another." 
 
 " I am going out of town to-morrow," said Cecilia, 
 coldly, " and therefore cannot have the pleasure of calling 
 upon Miss Belfield again." 
 
 She then slightly courtsied, and left the room. 
 
 The gentle Henrietta, her eyes swimming in tears, fol- 
 lowed her to her chair ; but she followed her not alone, Mrs. 
 Belfield also attended, repining very loudly at the unlucky 
 absence of her son : and the cringing Mr. Simkins, creep- 
 ing after her and bowing, said in a low voice, " I humbly 
 crave pardon, ma'am, for the liberty, but I hope you won't 
 think as I have any share in Mr. Hobson's behaving so rude, 
 for I must needs say, I don't think it over genteel in no 
 shape." And Mr. Hobson himself, bent upon having one 
 more sentence heard, called out, even after she was seated 
 in her chair. " All I say, ma'am, is this ; let every man be 
 honest ; that's what I argue, and that's my notion of 
 things." 1 
 
 Cecilia still reached home before Mrs. Delvile ; but most 
 uneasy were her sensations, and most unquiet was her 
 heart : the letter she had seen in the hands of Henrietta 
 seemed to corroborate all her former suspicions, since if it 
 came not from one infinitely dear to her she would not have 
 shown such fondness for it, and if that one was not dear 
 to her in secret, she would not have concealed it. 
 
 Where then was the hope that any but Delvile could 
 have written it ? in secret she could not cherish two, and 
 that Delvile was cherished most fondly, the artlessness of 
 her character unfitted her for disguising. 
 
 1 July 13, 1787. " I have heard nothing like what fell from him (Dr. 
 Beattie) since under this roof I came ; and I will not refrain, as his good 
 opinion was equally gratifying and surprising to me, telling you what he 
 most dwelt upon. ' What most,' cried he, ' has struck me is all that 
 concerns a species of distress the most common in life, yet most neg- 
 lected in representation that of people of high cultivation and eleganre 
 forced to associate with those of gross and inferior capacities and man- 
 ners. 'Tis a most just and feeling distress ; yet you, as you have stated, 
 have it now.' Whether he meant Evelina with the Branghtons, or Hen- 
 rietta with her mother and Mr. Hobson, I know not." Diary of Mmc. 
 D'Arblay, p. 403, vol. iii.
 
 438 CECILIA. 
 
 And why should lie write to her ? what was his pretence ? 
 That he loved her she could now less than ever believe, 
 since his late conduct to herself, though perplexing and in- 
 consistent, evinced at least a partiality incompatible with a 
 passion for another. What then could she infer, but that 
 he had seduced her affections, and ruined her peace, for the 
 idle and cruel gratification of temporary vanity ? 
 
 "And if such," cried she, "is the depravity of this ac- 
 complished hypocrite, if such is the littleness of soul that a 
 manner so noble disguises, shall he next, urged, perhaps, 
 rather by prudence than preference, make me the object of 
 his pursuit, and the food of his vain-glory ? And shall J, 
 warned and instructed as I am, be as easy a prey, and as 
 wretched a dupe ? No, I will be better satisfied with his 
 conduct, before I venture to trust him, and since I am richer 
 than Henrietta, and less likely to be deserted, when won, I 
 will be more on my guard to know why I am addressed, 
 and vindicate the rights of innocence, if I find she has been 
 thus dejuded, by forgetting his talents in his treachery, and 
 renouncing him for ever ! " 
 
 Such were the reflections and surmises that dampt all the 
 long-sought pleasure of her change of residence, and made 
 her habitation in St. James's-square no happier than it had 
 been at Mr. Barrel's ! 
 
 She dined again with only Mr. and Mrs. Delvile, and did 
 not see their son all day ; which, in her present uncertainty 
 what to think of him, was an absence she scarcely regretted. 
 
 When the servants retired, Mr. Delvile told her that he 
 had that morning received two visits upon her account, both 
 from admirers, who each pretended to having had leave to 
 wait upon her from Mr. Harrel. 
 
 He then named Sir Robert Floyer and Mr. Marriot. 
 
 " I believe, indeed," said Cecilia, " that neither of them 
 were treated perfectly well ; to me, however, their own be- 
 haviour has by no means been strictly honourable. I have 
 always, when referred to, been very explicit ; and what 
 other methods they were pleased to take, I cannot wonder 
 should fail." 
 
 " I told them," said Mr. Delvile, " that, since you were 
 now under my roof, I could not refuse to receive their 
 proposals, especially as there would be no impropriety in
 
 CECILIA. 439 
 
 your alliance with either of them : but I told them, at the 
 same time, that I could by no means think of pressing their 
 suit, as that was an office which, however well it might do 
 for Mr. Harrel, would be totally improper and unbecoming 
 for me." 
 
 " Certainly," said Cecilia, " and permit me, sir, to entreat 
 that, should they again apply to you, they may be wholly 
 discouraged from repeating their visits, and assured that 
 far from having trifled with them hitherto, the resolutions 
 I have declared will never be varied." 
 
 " I am happy," said Mrs. Delvile, " to see so much spirit 
 and discernment where arts of all sorts will be practised to 
 ensnare and delude. Fortune and independence were never 
 so securely lodged as in Miss Beverley, and I doubt not but 
 her choice, whenever it is decided, will reflect as much 
 honour upon her heart, as her difficulty in making it does 
 upon her understanding." 
 
 Mr. Delvile then enquired whether she had fixed upon 
 any person to choose as a guardian in the place of Mr. 
 Harrel. No, she said, nor should she, unless it were abso- 
 lutely necessary. 
 
 " I believe, indeed," said Mrs. Delvile, " your affairs will 
 not much miss him ! Since I have heard of the excess of 
 his extravagance, I have extremely rejoiced in the un- 
 common prudence and sagacity of his fair ward, who, in 
 such dangerous hands, with less penetration and sound 
 sense, might have been drawn into a thousand difficulties, 
 and perhaps defrauded of half her fortune." 
 
 Cecilia received but little joy from this most unseasonable 
 compliment, which, with many of the same sort that were 
 frequently, though accidentally made, intimidated her from 
 the confession she had planned : and finding nothing but cen- 
 sure was likely to follow the discovery, she at length de- 
 termined to give it up wholly, unless any connection should 
 take place which might render necessary its avowal. Yet 
 something she could not but murmur, that an action so 
 detrimental to her dwn interest, and which, at the time, 
 appeared indispensable to her benevolence, should now be 
 considered as a mark of such folly and imprudence that she 
 did not dare own it.
 
 440 CECILIA. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A RAILING. 
 
 THE next morning the family purposed setting off as 
 soon as breakfast was over : young Del vile, however, 
 waited not so long ; the fineness of the weather tempted him, 
 he said, to travel on horseback, and therefore he had risen 
 very early, and was already gone. Cecilia could not but 
 wonder, yet did not repine. 
 
 Just as breakfast was over, and Mr. and Mrs. Delvileand 
 Cecilia were preparing to depart, to their no little surprise, 
 the door was opened, and, out of breath with haste and with 
 heat, in stumpt Mr. Briggs ! " So," cried he to Cecilia, 
 " what's all this ? hay ? where are going ? a coach at 
 the door ! horses to every wheel ! servants fine as lords ! 
 what's in the wind now ? think to chouse me out of my 
 belongings ? " 
 
 " I thought, sir," said Cecilia, who instantly understood 
 him, though Mr. and Mrs. Delvile stared at him in utter 
 astonishment, " I had explained before I left you that I 
 should not return." 
 
 " Did n't, did n't ! " answered he, angrily ; " waited for 
 you three days, dressed a breast o' mutton o' purpose ; got 
 in a lobster, and two crabs ; all spoilt by keeping ; stink 
 already ; weather quite muggy, forced to souse 'em in 
 vinegar ; one expense brings on another ; never begin the 
 like agen." l 
 
 " I am very sorry, indeed," said Cecilia, much discon- 
 certed, "if there has been any mistake through my neglect ; 
 but I had hoped I was understood, and I have been so much 
 occupied " 
 
 "Ay, ay," interrupted he, "fine work! rare doings! a 
 
 1 " ' What disputes, too,' said Mrs. Chapone, ' there are about Briggs. 
 I was in a room some time ago where somebody said there could be no 
 such character ; and a poor little mean city man, who was there, started 
 up and said, 'But there is though, for I'se one myself!'" Diary of 
 Mine. D'Arblay^.lbl, vol. ii.
 
 CECILIA. 441 
 
 merry Vauxhalling, with pistols at all your noddles ! thought 
 as much ! thought he'd tip the perch ; saw he was n't stanch ; 
 knew he'd go by his company, a set of jackanapes! all 
 black-legs ! nobody warm among 'em : fellows with a month's 
 good living upon their backs, and not sixpence for the 
 hangman in their pockets ! " 
 
 Mrs. Delvile, now, with a look of arch congratulation at 
 Cecilia as the object of this agreeable visit, finding it not 
 likely to be immediately concluded, returned to her chair : 
 but Mr. Delvile, leaning sternly upon his cane, moved not 
 from the spot wheal he stood at his entrance, but surveyed 
 him from head to foot, with the most astonishing contempt 
 at his undaunted vulgarity. 
 
 " Well, I'd all your cash myself ; seized that else ! run 
 out the constable for you, next, and made you blow out 
 your brains for company. Mind what I say, never give 
 your mind to a gold laced hat ! many a-one wears it don't 
 know five farthings from two-pence. A good man always 
 wears a bob wig ; make that your rule. Ever see Master 
 Harrel wear such a thing ? No, I'll warrant ! Better if 
 he had kept his head on his own shoulders. And now, 
 pray, how does he cut up ? what has he left behind him ? 
 a twey-case, 1 I suppose, and a bit of a hat won't go on a 
 man's head ! " 
 
 Cecilia, perceiving, with great confusion, that Mr. Delvile, 
 though evidently provoked by this intrusion, would not 
 deign to speak, that Mr. Briggs might be regarded as be- 
 longing wholly to herself, hastily said, " I will not, sir, as 
 your time is precious, detain you here, but, as soon as it is 
 in my power, I will wait upon yon in the city." 
 
 Mr. Briggs, however, without listening to her, thought 
 proper to continue his harangue. 
 
 " Invited me once to his house ; sent me a card, half of 
 it printed like a book ! t'other half a scrawl could not read ; 
 pretended to give a supper ; all a mere bam ; went without 
 my dinner, and got nothing to eat ; all glass and show ; 
 victuals painted all manner o' colours ; lighted up like a 
 pastry-cook on twelfth-day ; wanted something solid, and 
 
 1 An etui is a closely fitting case for anything, from a hat down to 
 needles. A gentleman's " twey-case " was most likely a narrow, oblong, 
 pocket-case, containing a little mirror, tweezers, and so forth.
 
 442 CECILIA. 
 
 got a great lump of sweatmeat ; found it as cold as a stone, 
 all froze in my mouth like ice ; made me jump again, and 
 brought the tears in my eyes ; forced to spit it out ; believe 
 it was nothing but a snow-ball, just set up for show, and 
 covered over with a little sugar. Pretty way to spend 
 money ! Stuffing, and piping, and hopping ! never could 
 rest till every farthing was gone ; nothing left but his own 
 fool's pate, and even that he could not hold together." 
 
 " At present, sir," said Cecilia, " we are all going out of 
 town; the carnage is waiting at the door, and there- 
 fore " ft 
 
 " No such thing," cried he ; " Sha'n't go ; come for you 
 myself ; take you to my own house. Got everything ready, 
 been to the broker's, bought a nice blanket, hardly a brack 1 
 in it. Pick up a table soon ; one in my eye." 
 
 " I am sorry you have so totally mistaken me, sir ; for 
 I am now going into the country with Mr. and Mrs. Del- 
 vile." 
 
 " Won't consent, won't consent ! what will you go there 
 for ? hear of nothing but dead dukes ; as well visit an old 
 tomb." 
 
 Here Mr. Delvile, who felt himself insulted in a manner 
 he could least support, after looking at him very disdain- 
 fully, turned to Cecilia, and said " Miss Beverley, if this 
 person wishes for a longer conference with you, I am sorry 
 you did not appoint a more seasonable hour for your in- 
 terview." 
 
 " Ay, ay," cried the impenetrable Mr. Briggs ; " want to 
 hurry her off ! see that ! But t'won't do ; a'n't to be nicked ; 
 choose to come in for my thirds ; won't be gulled, shan't 
 have more than your share." 
 
 " Sir ! " cried Mr. Delvile, with a look meant to be 
 nothing less than petrific. 
 
 " What ! " cried he, with an arch leer ; "all above it, 
 hay ? warrant your Spanish Don never thinks of such a 
 thing ! don't believe 'em, my duck ! great cry and little 
 wool ; no more of the ready than other folks ; mere puff 
 and go one." 
 
 " This is language, sir," said Mr. Delvile, " so utterly 
 
 1 " A brack," a fault, or flaw.
 
 CECILIA. 443 
 
 incomprehensible, that I presume you do not even intend 
 it should be understood; otherwise, I should very little 
 scruple to inform you, that no man of the name of Delvile 
 brooks the smallest insinuation of dishonour." 
 
 " Don't he ? " returned Mr. Briggs, with a grin ; " why 
 how will he help it ? will the old grandees jump up out of 
 their graves to frighten us ? " 
 
 " What old grandees, sir ? to whom are you pleased to 
 allude ? " 
 
 " Why all them old grandfathers and aunts you brag of ; 
 a set of poor souls you won't let rest in their coffins ; mere 
 clay and dirt ! fine things to be proud of ! a parcel of old 
 mouldy rubbish quite departed this life ! raking up bones 
 and dust, nobody knows for what ! ought to be ashamed ; 
 who cares for dead carcases ? nothing but carrion. My 
 little Tom's worth forty of 'em." 
 
 " I can so ill make out, Miss Beverley," said the as- 
 tonished Mr. Delvile, " what this person is pleased to dive 
 at, that I cannot pretend to enter into any sort of conver- 
 sation with him ; you will therefore be so good as to let me 
 know when he has finished his discourse, and you are at 
 leisure to set off." 
 
 And then, with a very stately air, he was quitting the 
 room ; but was soon stopt, upon Mr. Briggs' calling out 
 " Ay, ay, Don Duke, poke in the old charnel houses by 
 yourself, none of your defunct for me ! did n't care if they 
 were hung in a string. Who's the better for 'em ? " 
 
 " Pray, sir," cried Mr. Delvile, turning round, " to whom 
 were you pleased to address that speech ? " 
 
 " To one Don Puffendorff," replied Mr. Briggs ; " know 
 ever such a person, hay ? " 
 
 " Don who ? Sir ! " said Mr. Delvile, stalking nearer to 
 him, " I must trouble you to say that name over again." 
 
 " Suppose don't choose it ? how then ? " 
 
 " I am to blame," said Mr. Delvile, scornfully waving his 
 hand with a repulsive motion, "to suffer myself to be irritated 
 so unworthily ; and I am sorry, in my own house, to be 
 compelled to hint that the sooner I have it to myself the 
 better I shall be contented with it." 
 
 " Ay, ay, want to get me off ; want to have her to your- 
 self ! won't be so soon choused ; who's the better man ?
 
 444 CECILIA. 
 
 hay ? which do YOU think is warmest ? and all got by 
 myself ; obliged to never a grandee for a penny ; what do 
 you say to that ? will you cast an account with me ? " 
 
 "Very extraordinary this!" cried Mr. Delvile ; "the 
 most extraordinary circumstance of the kind I ever met 
 with ! a person to enter my house in order to talk in this 
 incomprehensible manner ! a person, too, I hardly know 
 by sight ! " 
 
 " Never mind, old Don," cried Briggs, with a facetious 
 nod, " know me better another time ! " 
 
 " Old who, sir ! what ! " 
 
 " Come to a fair reckoning," continued Mr. Briggs ; "sup- 
 pose you were in my case, and had never a farthing but of 
 your own getting ; where would you be then ? What would 
 become of your fine coach and horses ? you might stump your 
 feet off before you'd ever get into one. Where would be 
 all this smart crockery work for your breakfast ? you might 
 pop your head under a pump, or drink out of your own 
 paw. What would you do for that fine jemmy tye ? 
 Where would you get a gold head to your stick ? You 
 might dig long enough in them cold vaults, before any of 
 your old grandfathers would pop out to give you one." 
 
 Mr. Delvile, feeling more enraged than he thought 
 suitable to his dignity, restrained himself from making any 
 farther answer, but going up to the bell, rang it with great 
 violence. 
 
 " And as to ringing a bell," continued Mr. Briggs, "you'd 
 never know what it was in your life, unless could make 
 interest to be a dust-man." 
 
 " A dust-man ! " repeated Mr. Delvile, unable to com- 
 mand his silence longer, " I protest " and biting his lips, 
 he stopt short. 
 
 " Ay, love it, don't you ? suits your taste ; why not one 
 dust as well as another ? Dust in a cart good as dust of 
 a charnel house ; don't smell half so bad." 
 
 A servant now entering, Mr. Delvile called out, " Is every 
 thing ready ? " 
 
 1 " Even Mr. Briggs, caricato as he certainly is, won all my esteem 
 by his scene with Don Puffendortf, whose misty magnitude was never 
 shewn so despicably dropsical before. I was happy to see Briggs have the 
 better of him." Mrs. Thrale to Miss Burney, 1782. Diary, vol. ii. p. 139.
 
 CECILIA. 445 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 He then begged Mrs. Delvile to go into the coach, and 
 telling Cecilia to follow when at leisure, left the room. 
 
 " I will come immediately, sir," said Cecilia. " Mr. 
 Briggs, I am sorry to leave you, and much concerned you 
 have had this trouble ; but I can detain Mr. Delvile no 
 longer." 
 
 And then away she ran, notwithstanding he repeatedly 
 charged her to stay. He followed them, however, to the 
 coach, with bitter revilings that every body was to make 
 more of his ward than himself, and with the most virulent 
 complaints of his losses from the blanket, the breast of 
 mutton, the crabs and the lobster ! 
 
 Nothing, however, more was said to him ; Cecilia, as if 
 she had not heard him, only bowed her head, and the coach 
 driving off, they soon lost sight of him. 
 
 This incident by no means rendered the journey pleasant, 
 or Mr. Delvile gracious : his own dignity, that constant 
 object of his thoughts and his cares, had received a wound 
 from this attack which he had not the sense to despise ; 
 and the vulgarity and impudence of Mr. Briggs, which 
 ought to have made his familiarity and boldness equally 
 contemptible and ridiculous, served only, with a man whose 
 pride out-run his understanding, to render them doubly 
 mortifying and stinging. He could talk, therefore, of 
 nothing the whole way that they went, but the extreme 
 
 impropriety of which the Dean of had been guilty, 
 
 in exposing him to scenes and situations so much beneath 
 his rank, by leaguing him with a person so coarse and dis- 
 graceful. 
 
 They slept one night upon the road, and arrived the next 
 day at Delvile Castle. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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