FANNY BURNEY Premium Collection: Complete Novels, Essays, Diary, Letters & Biography (Illustrated Edition). Frances Burney. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Frances Burney
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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.

       Table of Contents

      A DEBATE

       Table of Contents

      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, deliberating as she went whether it were better to adhere to 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 diminishing, 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 Portman-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 compassion 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, answered, “No, sweet Henrietta! it is you who are good, who are innocent, who are guileless! — you, too, I hope are happy!”

      “And are not you, madam?” cried Henrietta, fondly returning her caress. “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 sincerely? 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?”

      “O yes, indeed I do! and I have wished a thousand and a thousand times that I could but shew 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 every body!”

      “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, hesitating 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 so well how much I wished an opportunity to see the young lady myself: but here you come down upon pretence to see 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 insignificant 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.”

      “O, 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 prejudice, 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 company he’s always kept, as I daresay 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 confusion, 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 character than ever, from the simplicity of her sincerity, determined to save her that pain, by quietly hearing her harangue, 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 chusing whom he pleased: and that though she no longer dared speak her opinion with openness, she was fully persuaded 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 disposition 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,