Cecilia, struck by these reproaches, turned back; but while she hesitated how to answer them, he went on, You are insensible to my misery, and impenetrable to my entreaties; a secret enemy has had power to make me odious in your sight, though for her enmity I can assign no cause, though even her existence was this morning unknown to me! Ever ready to abandon, and most willing to condemn me, you have more confidence in a vague conjecture, than in all you have observed of the whole tenour of my character. Without knowing why, you are disposed to believe me criminal, without deigning to say wherefore, you are eager to banish me your presence. Yet scarce could a consciousness of guilt itself, wound me so forcibly, so keenly, as your suspecting I am guilty!
Again, then, cried Cecilia, shall I subject myself to a scene of such disgrace and horror? No, never!The punishment of my error shall at least secure its reformation. Yet if I merit your reproaches, I deserve not your regard; cease, therefore, to profess any for me, or make them no more.
Shew but to them, cried he, the smallest sensibility, shew but for me the most distant concern, and I will try to bear my disappointment without murmuring, and submit to your decrees as to those from which there is no appeal: but to wound without deigning even to look at what you destroy,to shoot at random those arrows that are pointed with poison,to see them fasten on the heart, and corrode its vital functions, yet look on without compunction, or turn away with cold disdain,Oh where is the candour I thought lodged in Cecilia! where the justice, the equity, I believed a part of herself!
After all that has past, said Cecilia, sensibly touched by his distress, I expected not these complaints, nor that, from me, any assurances would be wanted; yet, if it will quiet your mind, if it will better reconcile you to our separation
Oh fatal prelude! interrupted he, what on earth can quiet my mind that leads to our separation?Give to me no condescension with any such view,preserve your indifference, persevere in your coldness, triumph still in your power of inspiring those feelings you can never return,all, every thing is more supportable than to talk of our separation!
Yet how, cried she, parted, torn asunder as we have been, how is it now to be avoided?
Trust in my honour! Shew me but the confidence which I will venture to say I deserve, and then will that union no longer be impeded, which in future, I am certain, will never be repented!
Good heaven, what a request! faith so implicit would be frenzy.
You doubt, then, my integrity? You suspect
Indeed I do not; yet in a case of such importance, what ought to guide me but my own reason, my own conscience, my own sense of right? Pain me not, therefore, with reproaches, distress me no more with entreaties, when I solemnly declare that no earthly consideration shall ever again make me promise you my hand, while the terror of Mrs Delviles displeasure has possession of my heart. And now adieu.
You give me, then, up?
Be patient, I beseech you; and attempt not to follow me; tis a step I cannot permit.
Not follow you? And who has power to prevent me?
I have, Sir, if to incur my endless resentment is of any consequence to you.
She then, with an air of determined steadiness, moved on; Mrs Charlton, assisted by the servants, being already upon the stairs.
O tyranny! cried he, what submission is it you exact!May I not even enquire into the dreadful mystery of this morning?
Yes, certainly.
And may I not acquaint you with it, should it be discovered?
I shall not be sorry to hear it. Adieu.
She was now half way down the stairs; when, losing all forbearance, he hastily flew after her, and endeavouring to stop her, called out, If you do not hate and detest me,if I am not loathsome and abhorrent to you, O quit me not thus insensibly!Cecilia! my beloved Cecilia!speak to me, at least, one word of less severity! Look at me once more, and tell me we part not for-ever!
Cecilia then turned round, and while a starting tear shewed her sympathetic distress, said, Why will you thus oppress me with entreaties I ought not to gratify?Have I not accompanied you to the altar,and can you doubt what I have thought of you?
Have thought?Oh Cecilia!is it then all over?
Pray suffer me to go quietly, and fear not I shall go too happily! Suppress your own feelings, rather than seek to awaken mine. Alas! there is little occasion!Oh Mr Delvile! were our connection opposed by no duty, and repugnant to no friends, were it attended by no impropriety, and carried on with no necessity of disguise,you would not thus charge me with indifference, you would not suspect me of insensibility,Oh no! the choice of my heart would then be its glory, and all I now blush to feel, I should openly and with pride acknowledge!
She then hurried to the chaise, Delvile pursuing her with thanks and blessings, and gratefully assuring her, as he handed her into it, that he would obey all her injunctions, and not even attempt to see her, till he could bring her some intelligence concerning the mornings transaction.
The chaise then drove off.
CHAPTER iii. A CONSTERNATION
The journey was melancholy and tedious: Mrs Charlton, extremely fatigued by the unusual hurry and exercise both of mind and body which she had lately gone through, was obliged to travel very slowly, and to lie upon the road. Cecilia, however, was in no haste to proceed: she was going to no one she wished to see, she was wholly without expectation of meeting with any thing that could give her pleasure. The unfortunate expedition in which she had been engaged, left her now nothing but regret, and only promised her in future sorrow and mortification.
Mrs Charlton, after her return home, still continued ill, and Cecilia, who constantly attended her, had the additional affliction of imputing her indisposition to herself. Every thing she thought conspired to punish the error she had committed; her proceedings were discovered, though her motives were unknown; the Delvile family could not fail to hear of her enterprize, and while they attributed it to her temerity, they would exult in its failure: but chiefly hung upon her mind the unaccountable prohibition of her marriage. Whence that could proceed she was wholly without ability to divine, yet her surmizes were not more fruitless than various. At one moment she imagined it some frolic of Morrice, at another some perfidy of Monckton, and at another an idle and unmeaning trick of some stranger to them all. But none of these suppositions carried with them any air of probability; Morrice, even if he had watched their motions and pursued them to the church, which his inquisitive impertinence made by no means impossible, could yet hardly have either time or opportunity to engage any woman in so extraordinary an undertaking; Mr Monckton, however averse to the connection, she considered as a man of too much honour to break it off in a manner so alarming and disgraceful; and mischief so wanton in any stranger, seemed to require a share of unfeeling effrontery, which could fall to the lot of so few as to make this suggestion unnatural and incredible.
Sometimes she imagined that Delvile might formerly have been affianced to some woman, who having accidentally discovered his intentions, took this desperate method of rendering them abortive: but this was a short-lived thought, and speedily gave way to her esteem for his general character, and her confidence in the firmness of his probity.
Sometimes she imagined that Delvile might formerly have been affianced to some woman, who having accidentally discovered his intentions, took this desperate method of rendering them abortive: but this was a short-lived thought, and speedily gave way to her esteem for his general character, and her confidence in the firmness of his probity.
All, therefore, was dark and mysterious; conjecture was baffled, and meditation was useless. Her opinions were unfixed, and her heart was miserable; she could only be steady in believing Delvile as unhappy as herself, and only find consolation in believing him, also, as blameless.
Three days passed thus, without incident or intelligence; her time wholly occupied in attending Mrs Charlton; her thoughts all engrossed upon her own situation: but upon the fourth day she was informed that a lady was in the parlour, who desired to speak with her.
She presently went down stairs,and, upon entering the room, perceived Mrs Delvile!
Seized with astonishment and fear, she stopt short, and, looking aghast, held by the door, robbed of all power to receive so unexpected and unwelcome a visitor, by an internal sensation of guilt, mingled with a dread of discovery and reproach.
Mrs Delvile, addressing her with the coldest politeness, said, I fear I have surprised you; I am sorry I had not time to acquaint you of my intention to wait upon you.
Cecilia then, moving from the door, faintly answered, I cannot, madam, but be honoured by your notice, whenever you are pleased to confer it.
They then sat down; Mrs Delvile preserving an air the most formal and distant, and Cecilia half sinking with apprehensive dismay.
After a short and ill-boding silence, I mean not, said Mrs Delvile, to embarrass or distress you; I will not, therefore, keep you in suspense of the purport of my visit. I come not to make enquiries, I come not to put your sincerity to any trial, nor to torture your delicacy; I dispense with all explanation, for I have not one doubt to solve: I know what has passed, I know that my son loves you.
Not all her secret alarm, nor all the perturbation of her fears, had taught Cecilia to expect so direct an attack, nor enabled her to bear the shock of it with any composure: she could not speak, she could not look at Mrs Delvile; she arose, and walked to the window, without knowing what she was doing.
Here, however, her distress was not likely to diminish; for the first sight she saw was Fidel, who barked, and jumped up at the window to lick her hands.
Good God! Fidel here! exclaimed Mrs Delvile, amazed.
Cecilia, totally overpowered, covered her glowing face with both her hands, and sunk into a chair.
Mrs Delvile for a few minutes was silent; and then, following her, said, Imagine not I am making any discovery, nor suspect me of any design to develop your sentiments. That Mortimer could love in vain I never, believed; that Miss Beverley, possessing so much merit, could be blind to it in another, I never thought possible. I mean not, therefore, to solicit any account or explanation, but merely to beg your patience while I talk to you myself, and your permission to speak to you with openness and truth.
Cecilia, though relieved by this calmness from all apprehension of reproach, found in her manner a coldness that convinced her of the loss of her affection, and in the introduction to her business a solemnity that assured her what she should decree would be unalterable. She uncovered her face to shew her respectful attention, but she could not raise it up, and could not utter a word.
Mrs Delvile then seated herself next her, and gravely continued her discourse.
Miss Beverley, however little acquainted with the state of our family affairs, can scarcely have been uninformed that a fortune such as hers seems almost all that family can desire; nor can she have failed to observe, that her merit and accomplishments have no where been more felt and admired: the choice therefore of Mortimer she could not doubt would have our sanction, and when she honoured his proposals with her favour, she might naturally conclude she gave happiness and pleasure to all his friends.
Cecilia, superior to accepting a palliation of which she felt herself undeserving, now lifted up her head, and forcing herself to speak, said No, madam, I will not deceive you, for I have never been deceived myself: I presumed not to expect your approbation,though in missing it I have for ever lost my own!
Has Mortimer, then, cried she with eagerness, been strictly honourable? has he neither beguiled nor betrayed you?
No, madam, said she, blushing, I have nothing to reproach him with.
Then he is indeed my son! cried Mrs Delvile, with emotion; had he been treacherous to you, while disobedient to us, I had indisputably renounced him.
Cecilia, who now seemed the only culprit, felt herself in a state of humiliation not to be borne; she collected, therefore, all her courage, and said, I have cleared Mr Delvile; permit me, madam, now, to say something for myself.
Certainly; you cannot oblige me more than by speaking without disguise.
It is not in the hope of regaining your good opinion,that, I see, is lost!but merely
No, not lost, said Mrs Delvile, but if once it was yet higher, the fault was my own, in indulging an expectation of perfection to which human nature is perhaps unequal.
Ah, then, thought Cecilia, all is over! the contempt I so much feared is incurred, and though it may be softened, it can never be removed!
Speak, then, and with sincerity, she continued, all you wish me to hear, and then grant me your attention in return to the purpose of my present journey.
I have little, madam, answered the depressed Cecilia, to say; you tell me you already know all that has past; I will not, therefore, pretend to take any merit from revealing it: I will only add, that my consent to this transaction has made me miserable almost from the moment I gave it; that I meant and wished to retract as soon as reflection pointed out to me my error, and that circumstances the most perverse, not blindness to propriety, nor stubbornness in wrong, led me to make, at last, that fatal attempt, of which the recollection, to my last hour, must fill me with regret and shame.
I wonder not, said Mrs Delvile, that in a situation where delicacy was so much less requisite than courage, Miss Beverley should feel herself distressed and unhappy. A mind such as hers could never err with impunity; and it is solely from a certainty of her innate sense of right, that I venture to wait upon her now, and that I have any hope to influence her upon whose influence alone our whole family must in future depend. Shall I now proceed, or is there any thing you wish to say first?
No, madam, nothing.
Hear me, then, I beg of you, with no predetermination to disregard me, but with an equitable resolution to attend to reason, and a candour that leaves an opening to conviction. Not easy, indeed, is such a task, to a mind pre-occupied with an intention to be guided by the dictates of inclination,
You wrong me, indeed, madam! interrupted Cecilia, greatly hurt, my mind harbours no such intention, it has no desire but to be guided by duty, it is wretched with a consciousness of having failed in it! I pine, I sicken to recover my own good opinion; I should then no longer feel unworthy of yours; and whether or not I might be able to regain it, I should at least lose this cruel depression that now sinks me in your presence!
To regain it, said Mrs Delvile, were to exercise but half your power, which at this moment enables you, if such is your wish, to make me think of you more highly than one human being ever thought of another. Do you condescend to hold this worth your while?