 Volume 2, Chapter 3, Part 1 of Cecilia. The first check this tranquility received was upon the day of the mass grade, the preparations for which have already been mentioned. The whole house was then in commotion from various arrangements and improvements which were planned for almost every apartment that was to be opened for the reception of masks. Cecilia herself, however little pleased with the attendant circumstances of wantonly accumulating unnecessary deaths, was not the least animated of the party. She was a stranger to every diversion of this sort, and from the novelty of a scene hoped for uncommon satisfaction. At noon Mrs. Harrell sent for her to consult upon a new scheme which occurred to Mr. Harrell, a fixing in fantastic form some colored 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. Harrell, and then retired, said in a voice not too low to be heard by Cecilia, and, indeed, sir, I can't get him away. He's an insolent scoundrel, answered Mr. Harrell, however, if I must speak to him I must, and went out of the room. Mrs. Harrell still continued to exercise her fancy upon this new project, calling both upon Mr. Arnett and 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. All by this Mrs. Harrell ceased her employment, and they all stood still and silent. Then they heard Mr. Harrell, with much softness, answer, good Mr. Rawlins, have a little patience, I shall receive a large sum of money tomorrow or next day, and you may then depend upon 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. Harrell, 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 small durations at Violet Bank that will be very considerable. Sir, said the man, still louder, it is of no use you're employing me if I can never get my money, all my workmen must be paid whether I am or know, and so if I must need speak to a lawyer, why there's no help for it. Did you ever hear anything so impertinent, exclaimed Mrs. Harrell? I am sure Mr. Harrell would be very much to blame if ever he lets that man do anything more for him. Just then Mr. Harrell appeared, and with an air of effected 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 four hundred pounds, and won't leave the house without the money. Brother Arnett, I 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 draft for the money upon my own banker? That would be vastly obliging, answered Mr. Harrell, 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 Bake 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. Harrell, and let's hear no more of him. The two gentlemen then retired to another room, and Mrs. Harrell, after praising the extreme good nature of her brother, of whom she was very fond, and declaring that the masons and pertinence 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 silent, so marked, that Mrs. Harrell inquired 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? Is any fresh unnecessary expenses just now, till Mr. Harrell actually receives the money he talks of? Why, my dear, the expense of such a thing as this is nothing, and Mr. Harrell's affairs, I assure you, will not be at all felt, besides he expects money so soon that it is just the same as if he had had it already. Cecilia, unwilling to be too officious, began then to express her admiration for the goodness and generosity of Mr. Arnett, taking frequent occasion in the course of her 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. Harrell, by whose direction she was guided, informed her that 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. Harrell also, and Mr. Arnett, made not any alteration in their appearance. 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 familiarized to the abruptness with which the masks approached her, and the freedom with which they looked at or addressed her, the first confusion of her situation subsided, 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 characters, quick succession of figures, and the ludicrous mixture of groups kept her attention unwirried. While the conceited efforts at wit, the total thoughtlessness of consistency, and the ridiculous incongruity of the language with the appearance were incitements to surprise and diversion without end, even the local cantive, Do you know 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 observation, additional subjects of amusement. Even after nine o'clock every room was occupied, and the common crowd of regular mass-graders were dispersed through the various apartments. Dominoes of no character and fancy dressers 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, watchmen, conjurers, and old women, and the ladies, shepherdesses, orange girls, crocassians, gypsies, hay-makers, and sultanis. Cecilia had, as yet, escaped any address beyond the customary inquiry 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 favor 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 forehead, and 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 color of fire. Waving this wand as he advanced towards Cecilia he cleared a semicircular space before her chair, thrice with the most profound reverence bowed to her, thrice. He 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. The black gentleman, a droidly moving round her, held out his wand 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 now strutting boldly towards her, but the devil, rushing furiously forwards, placed himself immediately between them. Hotspur, putting his arms at cambeau with an air of defiance, 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. Arnett, 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 wraps on the head that his hair was disordered, and his face covered with powder, a general laugh succeeded, and Mr. Arnett, too diffident to brave railery, 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 imprisonment of Cecilia. This Don Quixote was accoutered with tolerable exactness according to the description of the admirable Cervantes. His armor was rusty, his helmet was a barber's basin, his shield a putridish, 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 propriety the most striking, the night of the doleful countenance. 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 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, oh 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 irradient frame in hostile thralldom. Suffer, then, magnanimous and undescribable lady, that I, the most groveling of your unworthy vassals, do sift the fair truth out of this foul sieve, and obsequiously bending to your divine attractions, conjure your highness veritably to inform me, if that honourable chair which happily supports your terrestrial perfections, containeth the inimitable birthing with the free and legal consent of your celestial spirit. Here he ceased, and Cecilia, who laughed at this characteristic 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 night who indignantly exclaimed, Sublime Lady, I beseech but of your exquisite mercy to refrain moldering 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 vengeance upon this unabliging cadiff for his most loyal obstruction of your highness's adorable pleasure. Then, bowing low, he turned from her, and thus addressed his intended antagonist. Uncourtly misgrant, the black garment which envelopeth thy most unpleasant person, seemeth even of the most ravishing whiteness in compare of the black bile which floateth within thy sable interior. 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 extinktion. I do here confer upon thee the honour of knighthood, dubbing thee by my own sword, Don Devil, Knight of the Horrible Physionomy. He then attempted to strike his shoulder with his spear, but the black gentleman, adroitly eluding in the blow, defended himself with his wand, a mock fight ensued, conducted on both sides with admirable dexterity. But 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 upon chairs and sofas to peep at the combat. In conclusion, the wand of the Knight of the Horrible Physionomy was broken against the shield of the Knight of the Doleful Countness, upon which Don Quixote called out, Victoria! The whole room echoed the sound. The unfortunate new knight retired abruptly into another apartment, and the conquering dawn, 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, not 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 Laral, 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 upon 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. Here she was interrupted by the reappearance of Don Devil, who looking round him and perceiving that his antagonist was gone, again advanced to Cecilia. Not, however, 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 pray 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 her behavior so whimsical, though she imagined the only person who could have the assurance to practice it was Sir Robert Foyer. After some time spent thus disagreeably, a white domino, who for a few minutes had been very attentive spectator, suddenly came forward and exclaiming, I'll cross him though he blast me, rest 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 immediately betrayed young Morris, 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 daunt 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, abrupt him in constant employment, pursuing him from room to room, and teasing him without cessation or mercy. Meantime, Cecilia, delighted at being released, hurried 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 confinement 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. Oh, depend upon it, cret 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 became my accuser? From seeing the danger to which my incautious night errantry has exposed me, I began, 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 of 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 that 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 while in his hand, and his design doubtless to cut as near the hardest possible, while the loud cackling from the other side is owing to the riotous merriment of 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 maskers has been the chief source of my entertainment this evening. For at a place of this sort the next best thing to a character well-supported is a character ridiculously burlesque'd. You cannot then have wanted amusement, return the domino. For among all the persons assembled in these apartments I have seen only three who have seemed conscious that any change but that of dress was necessary to disguise them. And pray, who are those? A Don Quixote, a schoolmaster, and your friend the devil. Oh, call him not, my friend, exclaimed Cecilia, for indeed inner out of that garb he is particularly my aversion. My friend, then, I will call him, said the domino. For so were he ten devils I must thank 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 proverbially entitled, he has shown much abilities in the performance 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 haymaker to whom the white domino called out. You look as gay and as brisk as if fresh from the hayfield after only half a day's work. Pray, how is it you pretty lass's fine employment for the winter? How! cried she pertly. Why, the same is for the summer, and pleased with her own readiness at repartee, without feeling the ignorance it betrayed, she tripped lightly on. Immediately after the schoolmaster mentioned by the white domino advanced to Cecilia, his dress was merely a long wrapping gown of green stuff, a pair of red slippers, and a woolen nightcap of the same color. 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 schoolboy 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 pretense could a poor miserable country pedagogue presume to approach you? Should I examine you in the dead languages? Would not your living accents charm from me all power of reproof? Should 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 hands spread out to me for correction? Should I help applying my lips to it instead of my retent? If I ordered you to be called up, 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 schoolmaster for Mr. Gospert, was readily beginning to propose conditions for courting him her favour, when their ears were assailed by a forced physical cough, which they found preceded 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 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 in politic. For why, well, so carefully we guard from all approaches of death, should we close the only avenues to happiness and long life, respect and tenderness? Cecilia delighted both by the understanding and humanity of her new acquaintance, and pleased at being joined by Mr. Gospert, was beginning to be perfectly satisfied with her situation. When creeping softly towards her, she again perceived the black gentleman. Ah! she cried with some vexation. Here comes my old tormentor. Scream 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. Arnett, begged he would also assist in barricading her from the fiend who so obstinately pursued her. Mr. Arnett most gratefully acceded to the proposal, and the White Domino, who acted as commanding officer, assigned to each his station, he desired Cecilia would keep quietly to her seat, appointed the schoolmaster to be her guard on the left, took possession himself of the opposite post, and ordered Mr. Arnett to stand sentinel in front. This arrangement, being settled, the guards of the right and left wings instantly secured their places. But while Mr. Arnett was considering whether it were better to face the besieged or the enemy, the archfoe rushed suddenly before him, and laid himself down at the feet of Cecilia. CHAPTER III. A MASCORADE. PART II. Mr. Arnett, extremely disconcerted, began a serious expostulation upon the ill-breeding of this behavior, 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 discreetly forebore making further complaints, preferring any persecution to seriously remonstrating with a man of so much insolence as the Baronet. The schoolmaster, laughing at the whole transaction, only said, And pray, madam, after playing the devil with all mankind, what right have you 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 encompassed with evil spirits. No, answered he, you will find me as inoffensive as the hue of the Domino I wear, and what I could add is insensible. This black gentleman, said the schoolmaster, who, and very innocently I was going to call your blackguard, has as noble and fiend like a disposition as I remember to have seen, for without even attempting to take any diversion 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 inconvenience. Here the black gentleman half raised himself and attempted to take her hand. She started, and with much displeasure drew it back. He then growled and again sank, prostrate. This is a fiend, said the schoolmaster, who to himself saith, 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 toward Cecilia, and having regarded her some 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 Fleuer. 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 schoolmaster, sarcastically looking at the Turk, who has removed your suspicions only by appearing in another character. Why, what the deuce, then, explained the Turk. Have you taken that black dog there for me? Before this question could be answered, an offensive smell of soot making everybody look around the room, the Timney Sweeper already mentioned by Miss LaRolls 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 incommodated by his dress. He held his soot bag over one arm, and his shovel under the other. As soon as he aspired Cecilia, whose situation was such as to prevent her eluding him, he hooded aloud, and came stumping up to her. Ah, ah, 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 ice, eh, poking, climb you up the Timney? 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 defense to her, while the devil, who was still before her, again began to growl. Ah, ah, cried the Timney 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 at her with much kindness. Pretty dove, he added, Be of good heart, chant be meddled with, come to see after you, heard of your tricks, though I'd catch you, come a purpose, poor duck did not know me, 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 the place, never saw the like before, turn a man's noddle, all goings out, no comings in, wax candles in every room, servants as thick as mushrooms, and where's the cash? Who's to pay the piper? Come to more than a guinea, warrant, Master Harold thinks that nothing. A guinea, contemptuously repeated the Turk, and what do you suppose a guinea will do? What? Why, keep a whole family, have some 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 I beg of? You? Got anything to give? Are warm? Take the trouble to speak more respectfully, sir, said the Turk, haughtily. I see you are some love, fellow, and I shall not put up with your impudence. Shall, shall I say? Answered the chimney sweeper sturdily. Hark in my duck, chucking Cecilia under the chin. Don't be cajoled, nick that spark, never mind gold trappings, none of his own. All a-taken, 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 it? How could this laggard 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. And I never saw such a dress at a masquerade before in my life. All the better, returned the other, would not change. What to think it cost? Cost? Why not a crown? A crown? A pot of beer. Little Dom barred it. Had it of our own sweep, said Twister himself. I'd 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. Harrell and Mr. Briggs to give you an early lesson upon the opposite errors of profusion and meanness? My uncle, cried Cecilia, starting. Were you acquainted with my uncle? No, said he. For my happiness I knew him not. He 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? Qued the chimney sweeper stumbling over the fiend. What's this black thing? Don't like it. Looks like the devil. Shan, stay with it. Carry you away. Take care of you myself. He then offered Cecilia his hand, but the black gentleman, raising himself upon his knees before her, paid her in dumb show the humblest of wars, yet prevented her from removing. Ah-ha! Qued the chimney sweeper, significantly nodding his head. Smell a rat. A sweetheart in disguise. No bamboozling. Won't do. Ain't so soon put upon. If you've anything to say, tell me. That's the way. Where's the cash? Got ever a rental? Or warm? That's the point. Or 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. 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 said about removing him. The fiend then began a yell so horrid 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 horrid Turk, who was peculiarly her aversion, and the facetious chimney sweeper, whose vicinity, either on account of his dress or his conversation, was by no means desirable. She was not, however, displeased that the white domino and the schoolmaster 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 schoolmaster, 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 character of hope? Could she not have been equally dejected and equally elegant as Nairobi or some tragedy queen? But she does not assume the character, answered the schoolmaster. She does not even think of it. The dress is her object, and that alone fills up all her ideas. Inquire of almost anybody in the room concerning the persons 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 capris has alone directed their choice. A tall and elegant youth now approached them, whose laurels and harp announced Apollo. The white domino immediately inquired of him, if the noise and turbulence of the company had any chance of being stilled into silence and rapture by the divine music of the inspired god. Now, answered he, pointing to the room in which was erected the new gallery, and whence, as he spoke, issued the sound of an oboe. There's a flute playing there already. Oh, for a Midas, cried the white domino, to return to this leather-eared god the disgrace he has 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's 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 schoolmaster, disguising his voice, thou cameest 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 or a goliath, as with that little wit for a palace. 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 toga spoke the consular dignity, though his broken English betrayed a native of France, the schoolmaster followed him, and with reverence the most profound began to address him in Latin. But, turning quick towards him, he gaily said, Monsieur, j'ai l'honneur de le représenter si c'eront, le grand si c'eront, père de sa patrie. Mais quoi que j'ai cet honore-là, je ne suis pas pédant. Mon Dieu, monsieur, je ne parle que le français dans la bonne compagnie. And politely bowing, he went on. Just then, Cecilia, while looking about the room for Mrs. Harrell, found herself suddenly pinched by the cheek and hastily turning around, perceived again her friend the chimneysweeper, 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 want to be had all catched up. I'm glad to hear it, sir, said Cecilia, someone 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. Goodbye, ducky, goodbye, 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 anybody? I hope not, answered she, for lo and deed should I then think of the rest of the world. The commission with which he is charged, returned the domino, has then misled me. I imagine 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, 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 inquire 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. Moncton had every instant less and less encouragement to make himself known. His plan had in nothing succeeded, and his provocation at its 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 overacted his part by raising her disgust and the indignation of the company rendered his views wholly abortive, while the consciousness of an extravagance for which, if discovered, 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. Moncton had never occurred, added continually to the cruelty of his situation by an undisguised abhorrence of his aciduity, as well as by a manifest preference to the attendance of the White Domino. All, therefore, that his disappointed 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 consequence 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 for his motions. It was in vain the people who distributed the refreshments and who were placed at the other side of the table expostulated upon the danger of the experiment. Morris 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 only been 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 apartments. The clamour of Harlequin, who was covered with glass, papier-mâché, 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, occasioned a disturbance in 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 darkness in 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. Harrell, and entrust yourself to my care? You seem wonderfully well acquainted with my guardians, said Cecilia. I cannot imagine how you have had your intelligence. Nor can I, answered the domino, imagine how Mr. Briggs became so particularly your favorite as to be entrusted 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. Delville offended you, that with him only you seem to have no commerce or communication? Mr. Delville, repeated Cecilia, still more surprised. Are you also acquainted with Mr. Delville? He is certainly a man of fashion, continued the domino, and he is also a man of honor. 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 conversation. But not till Cecilia had satisfied her doubts concerning the white domino, by conjecturing he was Mr. Belfield, who might easily at the house of Mr. Moncton have 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 occasion of the present. The fiend, having vainly traversed the room in search of Cecilia, stumbled accidentally upon Harlequin before he was freed from the relics of his own mischief, and unable to resist the temptation of opportunity and the impulse of revenge, he gave vent to the wrath so often excited by the blunders, thornness, and tricks of Morris, and inflicted upon him with his own wooden sword, which he seized for that purpose a chastisement 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, forebore not to belabor 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 downstairs threw himself into a hackney chair, which conveyed him to a place where he privately changed his dress, before he returned 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 impropriety, have attended Cecilia the whole evening. But such as 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. Harrell, 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 everything that regarded expense, Mr. Harrell had no feeling, and his lady had no thought. 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 increases with its duration, 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 disappeared, he made his exit, leaving Cecilia greatly pleased with his conversation in his manners, but extremely perplexed to account for his knowledge of her affairs and situation. The schoolmaster 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 a verse 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 apartment. A great variety of conjecture upon all that had passed, now until the moment that she sunk to rest, occupied her mind. The extraordinary persecution of the fiend excited at once, her curiosity and amazement, while the knowledge of her affairs shown by the white domino surprised her not less, and interested her more. Cecilia. Memoirs of an heiress by Francis Burney. Volume 2. Chapter 4. An Afray The next morning during breakfast, Cecilia was informed that a gentleman desired to speak with her. She begged permission of Mrs. Harrell to have him asked upstairs, and was not little surprised when he proved to be the same old gentleman whose singular exclamations had so much struck her at Mr. Moncton's, and at the rehearsal of Arteserste, 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. Harrell, believing his intention was to rob them, ran precipitately to the bell, which she rang without ceasing 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. No 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 unembittered and slumbers 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. Today 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 most affecting account of the misery to which a poor and wretched family had been reduced by sickness in 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? Has thou so much heart? cried he with emotion, and has fortune, though it has cursed thee with the temptation 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, no, 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 west, and wise as true. Give, therefore, while 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. Harrell, 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 contented 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. Harrell then came in, and his lady most eagerly told him the transaction. Scandalous, he exclaimed. Why, this is no better than being a housebreaker. Pray, give orders never to admit him again. Three guineas! I never heard so impudent a thing in my life. Indeed, Miss Beverly, 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 lecture one another. Today you recommend economy to me. Yesterday I with difficulty for war 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. Harrell made no answer, and Cecilia, privately moralizing upon the different estimates of expense and economy made by the dissipated in 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 inquire 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 munificence. And thus an act of goodness and charity passed undisturbed another week of the life of Cecilia. But when the fervor of self-approbation lost its novelty, the pleasure with which her new plan was begun first subsided into tranquility, and then sunk into languor. To a heart formed for friendship and affection, 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 astonishment 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 everyone complained, everyone was proud to boast, so effectually impeded private meetings and friendly intercourse, that whichever way she turned herself, all commerce seemed impracticable, but such as either led to dissipation or accidentally flowed from it. Yet finding the error into which her ardour of reformation had hurried her, and that a rigid's declusion from company 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 witch like the philosopher's stone always eludes our grasp, yet always invites our wishes. For this purpose she desired to attend Mrs. Harrell 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. Arnault. 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, my dear creature, where have you hid yourself these twenty ages? You're quite in luck in coming tonight, I assure you, it's the best opera we've had this season, there's such a monstrous crowd, there's no stirring, we shan'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. Harrell, 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 brilliant assembly of ladies and gentlemen, collected merely to see and to entertain one another, then 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 R.S.B., who, with his usual delicate languishment, smiled upon Cecilia and softly whispering, How divinely you look tonight, proceeded to pay his compliments to some other ladies. Do pray now, cried Miss Laurel's. Observe Mr. Meadows, only just see where he has fixed himself in the very best place in the room and keeping the fire from everybody. I do assure you that's always his way, and is monstrous provoking, for if one's ever so cold he lollips 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 Cecilia, looking 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 anybody here. Oh yes, cried Miss Laurel's, he is the sweetest dresser in the world. He has the most delightful taste you can conceive. Nobody has half so good a fancy. I assure you, it's a great thing to be spoke to by him. We were 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 ennuié? I know at least, answered Cecilia, that he would soon make one of me. Oh, but one is never affronted with an ennuié, 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 mention 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'm talking to him, for he is so immensely absent, he don't hear one half that one says. Only conceive how horrid. But why then do you encourage him? Why do you take any notice of him? Oh, everybody does, I assure you, else I would not for the world, but he is so courted you have no idea. However, 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 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 windskirt 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 honor to try the masquerade at the Pantheon? However, I hear you had a very brilliant spectacle at Mr. Harrell's. I was quite odyssoir that I could not get there. I did moan possible, but it was quite beyond me. We should have been very happy, said Mrs. Harrell, to have seen you. I assure you, we had some excellent masks. So I have heard part two, and I am reduced to despair that I could not have the honor of sliding in. But I was à cabler with affairs all day. Nothing could be so mortifying. 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 petrify. For my part, I confess I am not upon the principle 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 engaged 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 locosity 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 impatience. At length she resolved to make an effort for entertainment in another way, and since the expectations which brought her to the opera were destroyed, to try by listening to her fair neighbors, whether those who occasioned her disappointment could make her any amends. 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 everyone seemed to have her wishes bounded by a continual 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 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 hairdressers, hints of conquest that teamed with vanity, and histories of engagements which were inflated with exaltation. At the end of the act, by the crowding forward of the gentleman to see the dance, Mrs. Harrell 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 neighbors 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 totally careless. The desperate resource which she had tried during the first act of seeking entertainment from the very conversation 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 unintelligible. 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. 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 has begun. And they were again all silent attention. In the third act, however, she was more fortunate. The gentlemen again changed their places, and they were succeeded by others who came to the opera not to hear themselves, but the performers. And as soon as she was permitted to listen, the voice of Pachiarotti took from her all desire to hear anything but itself. During the last dance she was discovered by Sir Robert Fleuer, who, sauntering down Phops Alley, stationed himself by her side, and whenever the figurante relieved the principal dancers, turned his eyes from the stage to her face, as better worth his notice and equally destined for his amusement. Mr. Moncton, 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 Fleuer's admiration disturbed and perplexed him. He determined, therefore, to make an effort to satisfy his doubts by examining into his intentions, and taking him apart before the dance was quite over. Well, he said, who is so handsome here as Harold's ward? Yes, answered he calmly. She is handsome, but I don't like her expression. No? Why, what's the fault of it? Proud, cursed proud. It's 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. Oh, 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 her once about Juliet at the rehearsal. Was not she bi? What then, was that all, and did you imagine one compliment would do your business with her? Oh, hang it, whoever dreams of complimenting the women now, that's all at an end. You won't find she thinks so, though, for as you well 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 three thousand pounds per annum. One would not think much of a little encumbrance upon such an estate. Are you quite sure the estate is so considerable? Report is mightily given to magnify. Oh, 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 in trouble. Moncton, too much a man of interest in of the world to cherish that delicacy which covips 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 obstinately pursues its own course, death 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 Flawyer, not seeing or not heeding him, pressed forward and said, Will you let me have the honour, Miss Beverly, 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? Nothing very difficult to be understood, replied Belfield, 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 impertinent fellow as that, Miss Beverly, 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, whilst Sir Robert, taking advantage of his situation and 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 preparing to follow Mr. Belfield convinced her of the desperate scene which was likely to succeed. Fear, therefore, 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 her self 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. Harrell's arm hurried her back into the pit in order to quit a crowd of which she now found herself the principal object. Curiosity, however, was universally excited, and her retreat served but to inflame it. Some of the ladies and most of the gentleman upon various pretenses 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 aquaral was dying with love for Sir Robert Flawyer. Mr. Moncton, who had kept by her side during the whole affair, felt thunderstruck by the emotion she had shown. Mr. Arnot, too, who had never quitted her, wished himself exposed to the same danger as Sir Robert so that he might be honored with the same concern. But there were both too much the dupes of their own apprehensions and jealousy to perceive that what they instantly imputed to fondness proceeded simply from general humanity accidentally united with the consciousness of being accessory to the aquaral. The young stranger who had officiated as mediator between 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 vexation 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. Ms. LaRoll's next, who with her party came back into the pit, ran up to Cecilia, crying, oh, my dear creature, what a monstrous, shocking thing! You've no idea how I'm frightened. Do you know I happen 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? Oh, Lord, no, for when I came with insight I was fifty times worse. I gave such a monstrous scream that it quite made Mr. Meadow start. I daresay he'll tell me of at least a 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 reappearance of the active stranger, who again, advancing to Cecilia, said, I am in doubt whether the efforts I make to revive will please or irritate you, but though you rejected the last cordial I ventured to present you, perhaps you will look with a more favourable eye towards that of which I am now the herald. Cecilia then, casting her eyes around, saw that he was followed by Sir Robert Fleuer. Full of displeasure, both at this introduction and at his presence, she turned hastily to Mr. Arnott and entreated him to inquire 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 LaRose, How could you be so shocking as to draw your sword? You can't conceive how hard it looked. 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 a five and twenty swords old at once. I thought one of you would be killed every moment. It was hard, disagreeable, I assure you. Sir Robert was now called away by some gentleman, and Mr. Moncton, earnest to be better informed of Cecilia's real sentiments, said with affected concern. The present this matter is merely ridiculous. I'm 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. Can't you, Mr. Moncton? 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, but still, Sir Robert. Oh, as to Sir Robert, Mr. Harrell, I am very sure will undertake him. I will try to see him tonight myself and entreat him to exert all his influence. Ah, Madame, cried the stranger, archly and lowering his voice. Those French beads and Bristol stones have not, I find, shown 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 plumb 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 in ten thousand pounds ten thousand charms are centered, 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, part two, but the crowd has been so accablan, I was almost reduced to despair. Give me leave to hope you are now recovered from the horror 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. Moncton, most earnestly entreated him to take an active part in endeavouring to prevent the fatal consequences with which the quarrel seemed likely to terminate. End of Chapter 4 Volume 2, Chapter 5 of Cecilia This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Amanda Hindman. Cecilia, Memoirs of an Eris, by Francis Burney. Volume 2, Chapter 5 A Fashionable Friend As soon as they returned home, Cecilia begged Mrs. Harrell not to lose a moment before she tried to acquaint Mr. Harrell with the state of the affair, but that lady was too helpless to know in what manner to say about it. She could not tell where he was, she could not conjecture where he might be. Cecilia then rang for his own man, and upon inquiry heard that he was, in all probability, at Brooks's in St. James's Street. She then begged Mrs. Harrell would write to him. Mrs. Harrell 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. Balefield, with whom he had had a dispute at the Opera House. The man soon returned with an answer that Mr. Harrell would not fail to obey her commands. She determined to sit up till he came home in order to learn the event of the negotiation. 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 shunned her intention to accept the assistance of Mr. Balefield before he had followed her with an offer of his own. She was uncertain, indeed, whether he had remarked what had passed, but she had reason to think that, so circumstances, to have changed her purpose would have been construed into an encouragement that might have authorised his future presumption 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. Harrell, though really sorry at the state of the affair, regarded herself as so entirely unconcerned in it that easily worried when out of company, she soon grew sleepy and retired to her own room. The anxious Cecilia, hoping every instant the return of Mr. Harrell, 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 possibly 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 to make an effort to recover the time lost. She was now no longer surprised either at the debts of Mr. Harrell 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 Fleurier also did the same was a matter of much less importance to her, but that the life of any man should through her means be endangered disturb her inexpressibly. She went however to bed but arose again at six o'clock and dressed herself by candlelight. In an hour's time she sent to inquire if Mr. Harrell 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. Moncton arrived, who now, for the first time, had the satisfaction of finding her alone. You are very good for coming so early, cried she. Have you seen Mr. Balefield? Have you had any conversation 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 Balefield ever visited you since he had the honor 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 Mr. Harrell received masks, and last night at the opera. Is it then for the safety of Sir Robert you are so extremely 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. Balefield, though at first too fiery, was certainly ill-used. The candor of this speech recovered Mr. Moncton from his apprehensions, and carefully observing her looks while he spoke, he gave her the following account. That he had hastened to Balefield's lodgings the moment he left the opera house, and after repeated denials, absolutely 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 he so warmly resented the personal insults 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 you left him? cried Cecilia. No, for before I got to him the challenge had been sent. The challenge? Good heavens! And do you know the event? I called again this morning at his lodgings, but he was not returned home, and was it impossible to follow him, where there no means to discover whether 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 increased every moment, and Mr. Monkton, seeing he had no other chance of satisfying her, offered his service to go again in search of both the gentlemen, and endeavour to bring her better information. 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 apprehensions, 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. Monkton, 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. Delville begged to have the honor of speaking to her. Surprised at this condescension, she desired he might immediately be admitted, but much was her surprise augmented when, instead of seeing her ostentatious guardian, she again beheld her masquerade friend, the White Domino. He entreated her pardon for an intrusion neither authorized by acquaintance nor by business, though somewhat, 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 honor, he said, of seeing you last night at the opera house, the dispute which had just happened between two gentlemen seemed to give you an uneasiness which could not but be painful to all who observed 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 happened or is likely to happen. You do me, sir, said Cecilia, much honor, and indeed you relieve me from a suspense extremely disagreeable. 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 honor of your commands. 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 offense unpremeditated, I thought it not absolutely impossible that an expeditious mediation might affect a compromise. At least it was worth trying. For though wrath slowly kindled or long nourished is sullen and intractable, 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 has excited. I hoped, therefore, that some trifling concession 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 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, and apology would neither stain his courage nor his reputation. But his spirit brooked not the humiliation. Spirit, cried Cecilia, how mild a word! What, then, could poor Mr. Balfield 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. Balfield, I think you will permit me, without offense 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 offense to his antagonist must necessarily be an offense to me. Whatever I might have thought, answered he, looking at her with evidence 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. Balfield 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. Sovalora Sidon Quixote, returned he laughing, certainly merited a faithful esquire. He was, however, gone out, and nobody knew with her. 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 honor, to thank you for these inquiries. He is then wounded. He is a little hurt, but sir Robert is perfectly safe. Balfield 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 it he 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 inquire his opinion after the wound had been dressed. He told me he had extracted the ball, and assured me Mr. Balfield 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 rumor. Cecilia thanked him for his attention, and measures Harold then making her appearance. He arose and said, Had my father known the honor I have had this morning of waiting upon Miss Beverly, 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 less while I should be making interest for my credentials, the pretense of my embassy might be lost, and other couriers less scrupulous might obtain previous audiences and anticipate my dispatches. He then took his leave. This white domino at last, then, said Cecilia, is the son of Mr. Delville, and thence the knowledge of my situation which gave me so much surprise. A son how infinitely unlike his father. Yes, said Mistress Harold, 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 everybody in such awe that there is 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. Moncton, who now soon returned, was not a little surprised to find that all the intelligence he meant to communicate was already known, and not the more pleased to hear that the white domino, to whom he before owed no good will, had thus officially preceded him. Mr. Arnott, who also came just after him, had been so little satisfied with the result of his inquiries that from the fear of increasing Cecilia's uneasiness, he determined not to make known whether he had been, but he soon found his forbearance was of no avail, as she was already acquainted with the duel and its consequences. Yet his unremitting desire to oblige her urged twice in the course of the same day to again call at Mr. Balefield's lodgings, in order to bring her thencefresh and unsolicited intelligence. Before breakfast was quite over, Mistress LaRolla's, 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, Mistress 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. Harold did not return till late, but then seemed in very high spirits. Miss Beverly, he cried, I bring you news that will repay all your fright. Sir Robert is not only safe, but has come off conqueror. I am very sorry, sir, answered Cecilia, extremely provoked to be thus congratulated, that anybody conquered or anybody was vanquished. There is no need for sorrow, cried Mr. Harold, or for anything but joy, for he has not killed his man. The victory, therefore, will neither cost him a flight nor a trial. Today he means to wait upon you and lay his laurels at your feet. He means, then, to take very fruitless troubles, said Cecilia, for I have not any ambition to be so honored. Ah, Miss Beverly 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 railery, and therefore 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 increased already into disgust by his behavior the preceding evening, was now fixed into the strongest aversion by the horror she conceived of his fierceness, and the indignation she felt excited by his arrogance. 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 whoever he deigned to look at it all, and shooed that he thought his notice and honor, however imperious the manner in which it was accorded. Upon Cecilia, however, he cast an eye of more complacency. He now believed her subdued, and his vanity reveled 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 coldness to fear, and her reserve to shame. Sickened by insolence so undisguised and unauthorized, 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, a passing so large a portion of her time and company to which she was so extremely averse. After dinner, when Misra's Herald was talking of her party for the evening, of which Cecilia declined making one, Sir Robert, with the sort of proud humility that half-feared rejection and half proclaimed an indifference to meeting it, said, I don't much care for going further myself if Miss Beverly will give me the honor 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 baronette, looking at his watch, instantly cried, Faith, that is very fortunate, for I have just recollected an engagement at the other end of the town which had slipped my memory. Soon after they were all gone, Cecilia received a note from Misra's Delville, begging the favor of her company the next morning to breakfast. She readily accepted the invitation, though she was by no means prepared by the character she had heard of her, to expect much pleasure from an acquaintance with that lady. End of Chapter 5, recorded by Amanda Hindman in Glen, Mississippi, www.livinginbooks.blogspot.com Volume 2, Chapter 6 of Cecilia. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Amanda Hindman. Cecilia, Memoirs of an Heiress by Francis Burney. Volume 2, Chapter 6, A Family Party Cecilia the next morning between nine and ten o'clock went to St. James's Square. She found nobody immediately ready to receive her, but in a short time was waited upon by Mr. Delville. After the usual salutations, Miss Beverly, 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 Mistress Delville. 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 inquiries 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 answered 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 inquire into the merits of the cause and then to draw my own inferences, 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 question, for such by courtesy I presume they are called, thought themselves entitled publicly to dispute your favor. My favor, sir, cried Cecilia, much amazed. My dear, said he, with the 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 disposed 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 increasing gentleness. 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. Delville, I understand you have already had the pleasure of seeing this young lady. Yes, sir, he answered, I have more than once had the happiness, but I have never had the honor of being introduced to her. Miss Beverly, then, said the father, I must present to you Mr. Mortimer Delville, my son, and Mortimer, and Miss Beverly I desire you will remember that you respect the ward of your fathers. I will not, sir, answered he, for yet an injunction my own inclinations had already outrun. Mortimer Delville 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 conversation took place till Mr. Delville, suddenly rising, said to Cecilia, you will pardon me, Miss Beverly, if I leave you for a few minutes. One of my tenants sets out tomorrow morning for my estate in the North, and he has been two hours waiting to speak with me. But if my son is not particularly engaged, I am sure he will be so good as to do the honors 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 Delville, has left me an office which could I executed 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 Mistress Delville honors me with the 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, sir? 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 accident? No, not at all, but the little I have seen of him has strongly interested me in his favor. At Mr. Harrell's masquerade, where I first met with him, I was extremely entertained by his humor, though there, perhaps, as I had also the honor of first seeing Miss Beverly, I might be too happy to feel much difficulty in being pleased, and even at the opera he had the advantage of finding me in the same favorable disposition as I had long distinguished you before I had taken any notice of him. I must, however, confess I did not think his anger that evening quite without provocation, but I beg your pardon I may perhaps 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 the look of curiosity that seemed eager to penetrate into her sentiments of the two antagonists. No, certainly, she answered, he had all the provocation that ill-breeding could give him. And do you, madam, cried he, with such surprise, judge of this matter with such severity? No, not with severity, simply with candor. With candor, alas, then poor sir Robert, severity were not half so bad a sign for him. A servant now came in to acquaint Cecilia that Mistress Delville waited breakfast for her. This summons was immediately followed by the re-entrance of Mistress Delville, 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 Mistress Delville 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 superiority 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 unfavorable 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 50 years of age. Her complexion, though faded, kept the traces of its former loveliness. Her eyes, though they had lost their youthful fire, retained a luster that events their permeable brilliancy, and the fine symmetry 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. Missions-Daleville, though prepared for youth and beauty, expected not to see countenance so intelligent, nor manners so well-formed as those of Cecilia. Thus, mutually astonished and mutually pleased, their first salutations were accompanied by a look so flattering to both that each saw in the other an immediate prepossession in her favor, and from the moment that they met they seemed instinctively impelled to admire. I have promised Miss Beverly Madame, said Mr. Daleville to his lady, that you would give her a kind reception, 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, Madame? 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 Daleville, upon the benevolence of Miss Beverly, 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 procured only by my absence, I know not if I should so readily agree to the conditions. I must request of you, Madame, said Mr. Daleville, that when my son and I retire, you will bestow half an hour upon this young lady in making inquiries concerning the disturbance last Saturday at the Opera House. I have not, myself, so much time to spare as I have several appointments 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 Beverly should pass without reproach. Not only her minority, but her maturity cried young Daleville warmly, and not only her maturity, but her decline of life will pass, I hope, not merely without reproach, but with fame and applause. I hope so too, replied Mr. Daleville. 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 honor and my own credit concerned, my honor as I gave it to the Dean that I would super intend her conduct, and my credit as the world is acquainted with the claim she has to my protection. I will not make any inquiries, said Mr. Daleville, turning to Cecilia with the sweetness that recompensed her for the haughtiness of her guardian, till I have had some opportunity of convincing Miss Beverly that my regard for her merits they should be answered. You see, Miss Beverly, said Mr. Daleville, how little reason you had to be afraid of us. Mr. Daleville is as much disposed in your favor as myself, and as desirous to be of service to you. Endeavor, 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 Mistress Daleville, that Miss Beverly can have to remove, unless, indeed, she apprehends her visits will make us encroachers, and that the more we are favored with her presence, the less we shall bear her absence. Pray, son, said Mr. Daleville, what was the name of the person who was Sir Robert Floyer's opponent? I have again forgotten it. Balefield, Sir. True, it is a name I am perfectly unacquainted with. However, he may possibly be a very good sort of man, but 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 prejudice the case. I will hear it fairly stated, and am the more disposed to be cautious in what I pronounce, because I am persuaded Miss Beverly has too much sense to let my advice be thrown away upon her. I hope so, Sir, but with respect to the disturbance of 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. Meantime, I will only recommend to you to consider that Mr. Balfield is a person whose name nobody has heard, and that a connection with Sir Robert Floyer would certainly be very honorable for you. Indeed, Sir, said Cecilia, here is some great mistake. Neither of these gentlemen, I believe, think of me at all. They have taken, then, cried young Delville with a laugh, a very extraordinary method to prove their indifference. The affairs of Sir Robert Floyer continued Mr. Delville 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. Balfield? 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 Delville, almost everything. He has wit, spirit, and understanding, talents to create admiration, and qualities, I believe, to engage esteem. You speak warmly, said Mr. Delville, but if such is his character, he merits your earnestness. What is it you know of him? 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. Delville, produces nothing but difficulties and trouble. You neglect the connections I point out, and which a little attention might render serviceable as well as honorable, and run precipitately into forming such as can do you no good among people of rank, and are not only profitless in themselves, but generally lead you into expense and inconvenience. 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 shoey adventurer that comes in your way. I know not, sir, answered he, how Mr. Delville 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 to him wait for it? If he is a young man of worth and honor, Mortimer interrupted Mr. Delville 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 consequently for Mortimer Delville he is no companion. If you can render him any service, I shall commend you 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 yourself and to the ancient and honorable house from which you are sprung. But can we entertain Miss Beverly with nothing better than family lectures? cried Mistress Delville. It is for me, said young Delville rising, to beg pardon of Miss Beverly for having occasioned them. But when she is so good as to honor us with her company again, I hope I shall have more discretion. He then left the room and Mr. Delville also rising to go said, My dear, I commit you to very kind hands. Mistress Delville, 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 condescension humbled her most. These men, said Mistress Delville, 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 favor 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, madame, much honor, answered Cecilia, but I must assure you I have no explanation to give. Well, well, at present, returned Mistress Delville, 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 has promised me by your countenance, and I mean to claim the promise by my friendship. Your friendship will both honor and delight me, and whatever are your inquiries I shall always be proud to answer them, but indeed, with regard to this affair, my dear Miss Beverly, interrupted Mistress Delville, with a look of arch incredulity. Men seldom risk their lives, where an escape is without hope of recompense. But we will not say now a word more upon the subject. I hope you will often favor 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 figure and countenance of Mistress Delville had impressed her was quickly ripened into esteem by the charms of her conversation. 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 entertaining, 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.