CHAPTER ix. -- AN ATTACK.
At dinner, with the assistance of Lord Ernolf, who was most happy togive it, Cecilia seemed tolerably easy. Lord Derford, too, encouragedby his father, endeavoured to engage some share of her attention; buthe totally failed; her mind was superior to little arts of coquetry, andher pride had too much dignity to evaporate in pique; she determined,therefore, at this time, as at all others, to be consistent in shewinghim he had no chance of her favour.
At tea, when they were again assembled, Mortimer's journey was the onlysubject of discourse, and it was agreed that he should set out veryearly in the morning, and, as the weather was extremely hot, not travelat all in the middle of the day.
Lady Honoria then, in a whisper to Cecilia, said, "I suppose, MissBeverley, you will rise with the lark to-morrow morning? for yourhealth, I mean. Early rising, you know, is vastly good for you."
Cecilia, affecting not to understand her, said she should rise, shesupposed, at her usual time.
"I'll tell Mortimer, however," returned her ladyship, "to look up atyour window before he goes off; for if he will play Romeo, you, I daresay, will play Juliet, and this old castle is quite the thing for themusty family of the Capulets; I dare say Shakespeare thought of it whenhe wrote of them."
"Say to him what you please for yourself," cried Cecilia, "but let meentreat you to say nothing for me."
"And my Lord Derford," continued she, "will make an excessive prettyParis, for he is vastly in love, though he has got nothing to say; butwhat shall we do for a Mercutio? we may find five hundred whiningRomeos to one gay and charming Mercutio. Besides, Mrs Delvile, to do herjustice, is really too good for the old Nurse, though Mr Delvile himselfmay serve for all the Capulets and all the Montagues at once, for he haspride enough for both their houses, and twenty more besides. By the way,if I don't take care, I shall have this Romeo run away before I havemade my little dainty country Paris pick a quarrel with him."
She then walked up to one of the windows, and motioning Lord Derford tofollow her, Cecilia heard her say to him, "Well, my lord, have you writyour letter? and have you sent it? Miss Beverley, I assure you, will becharmed beyond measure by such a piece of gallantry."
"No, ma'am," answered the simple young lord, "I have not sent it yet,for I have only writ a foul copy."
"O my lord," cried she, "that is the very thing you ought to send! afoul copy of a challenge is always better than a fair one, for it lookswritten with more agitation. I am vastly glad you mentioned that."
Cecilia then, rising and joining them, said, "What mischief is LadyHonoria about now? we must all be upon our guards, my lord, for she hasa spirit of diversion that will not spare us."
"Pray why do you interfere?" cried Lady Honoria, and then, in a lowervoice, she added, "what do you apprehend? do you suppose Mortimer cannotmanage such a poor little ideot as this?"
"I don't suppose any thing about the matter!"
"Well, then, don't interrupt my operations. Lord Derford, Miss Beverleyhas been whispering me, that if you put this scheme in execution, sheshall find you, ever after, irresistible."
"Lord Derford, I hope," said Cecilia, laughing, "is too well acquaintedwith your ladyship to be in any danger of credulity."
"Vastly well!" cried she, "I see you are determined to provoke me, so ifyou spoil my schemes, I will spoil yours, and tell a certain gentlemanyour tender terrors for his safety."
Cecilia now, extremely alarmed, most earnestly entreated her to bequiet; but the discovery of her fright only excited her ladyship'slaughter, and, with a look the most mischievously wicked, she called out"Pray Mr Mortimer, come hither!"
Mortimer instantly obeyed; and Cecilia at the same moment would withpleasure have endured almost any punishment to have been twenty milesoff.
"I have something," continued her ladyship, "of the utmost consequenceto communicate to you. We have been settling an admirable plan for you;will you promise to be guided by us if I tell it you?"
"O certainly!" cried he; "to doubt that would disgrace us all round."
"Well, then,--Miss Beverley, have you any objection to my proceeding?""None at all!" answered Cecilia, who had the understanding to know thatthe greatest excitement to ridicule is opposition.
"Well, then, I must tell you," she continued, "it is the advice of usall, that as soon as you come to the possession of your estate, you makesome capital alterations in this antient castle."
Cecilia, greatly relieved, could with gratitude have embraced her; andMortimer, very certain that such rattle was all her own, promised theutmost submission to her orders, and begged her further directions,declaring that he could not, at least, desire a fairer architect.
"What we mean," said she, "may be effected with the utmost ease; it isonly to take out these old windows, and fix some thick iron grates intheir place, and so turn the castle into a gaol for the county."
Mortimer laughed heartily at this proposition; but his father,unfortunately hearing it, sternly advanced, and with great austeritysaid, "If I thought my son capable of putting such an insult upon hisancestors, whatever may be the value I feel for him, I would banish himmy presence for ever."
"Dear Sir," cried Lady Honoria, "how would his ancestors ever know it?"
"How?--why--that is a very extraordinary question, Lady Honoria!"
"Besides, Sir, I dare say the sheriff, or the mayor and corporation, orsome of those sort of people, would give him money enough, for the useof it, to run him up a mighty pretty neat little box somewhere nearRichmond."
"A box!" exclaimed he indignantly; "a neat little box for the heir of anestate such as this!"
"I only mean," cried she, giddily, "that he might have some placea little more pleasant to live in, for really that old moat anddraw-bridge are enough to vapour him to death; I cannot for my lifeimagine any use they are of; unless, indeed, to frighten away the deer,for nothing else offer to come over. But, if you were to turn the houseinto a gaol--"
"A gaol?" cried Mr Delvile, still more angrily, "your ladyship mustpardon me if I entreat you not to mention that word again when you arepleased to speak of Delvile Castle."
"Dear Sir, why not?"
"Because it is a term that, in itself, from a young lady, has a soundpeculiarly improper; and which, applied to any gentleman's antientfamily seat,--a thing, Lady Honoria, always respectable, however lightlyspoken of!--has an effect the least agreeable that can be devised; forit implies an idea either that the family, or the mansion, is going intodecay."
"Well, Sir, you know, with regard to the mansion, it is certainly verytrue, for all that other side, by the old tower, looks as if it wouldfall upon one's head every time one is forced to pass it."
"I protest, Lady Honoria," said Mr Delvile, "that old tower, ofwhich you are pleased to speak so slightingly, is the most honourabletestimony to the antiquity of the castle of any now remaining, and Iwould not part with it for all the new boxes, as you style them, in thekingdom."
"I am sure I am very glad of it, Sir, for I dare say nobody would giveeven one of them for it."
"Pardon me, Lady Honoria, you are greatly mistaken; they would give athousand; such a thing, belonging to a man from his own ancestors, isinvaluable."
"Why, dear Sir, what in the world could they do with it? unless, indeed,they were to let some man paint it for an opera scene."
"A worthy use indeed!" cried Mr Delvile, more and more affronted; "andpray does your ladyship talk thus to my Lord Duke?"
"O yes; and he never minds it at all."
"It were strange if he did!" cried Mrs Delvile; "my only astonishment isthat anybody can be found who does mind it."
"Why now, Mrs Delvile," she answered, "pray be sincere; can you possiblythink this Gothic ugly old place at all comparable to any of the newvillas about town?"
"Gothic ugly old place!" repeated Mr Delvile, in utter amazement at herdauntless flightiness; "your ladyship really does my humble dwelling toomuch honour!"
"Lord, I beg a thousand pardo
ns!" cried she, "I really did not think ofwhat I was saying. Come, dear Miss Beverley, and walk out with me, for Iam too much shocked to stay a moment longer."
And then, taking Cecilia by the arm, she hurried her into the park,through a door which led thither from the parlour.
"For heaven's sake, Lady Honoria," said Cecilia, "could you find nobetter entertainment for Mr Delvile than ridiculing his own house?"
"O," cried she, laughing, "did you never hear us quarrel before? whywhen I was here last summer, I used to affront him ten times a day."
"And was that a regular ceremony?"
"No, really, I did not do it purposely; but it so happened; eitherby talking of the castle, or the tower, or the draw-bridge, or thefortifications; or wishing they were all employed to fill up that odiousmoat; or something of that sort; for you know a small matter will puthim out of humour."
"And do you call it so small a matter to wish a man's whole habitationannihilated?"
"Lord, I don't wish anything about it! I only say so to provoke him."
"And what strange pleasure can that give you?"
"O the greatest in the world! I take much delight in seeing anybody in apassion. It makes them look so excessively ugly!"
"And is that the way you like every body should look, Lady Honoria?"
"O my dear, if you mean me, I never was in a passion twice in my life;for as soon as ever I have provoked the people, I always run away. Butsometimes I am in a dreadful fright lest they should see me laugh, forthey make such horrid grimaces it is hardly possible to look at them.When my father has been angry with me, I have sometimes been obliged topretend I was crying, by way of excuse for putting my handkerchief to myface; for really he looks so excessively hideous, you would suppose hewas making mouths, like the children, merely to frighten one."
"Amazing!" exclaimed Cecilia, "your ladyship can, indeed, never wantdiversion, to find it in the anger of your father. But does it give youno other sensation? are you not afraid?"
"O never! O what can he do to me, you know? he can only storm a little,and swear a little, for he always swears when he is angry; and perhapsorder me to my own room; and ten to one but that happens to be the verything I want; for we never quarrel but when we are alone, and then it'sso dull, I am always wishing to run away."
"And can you take no other method of leaving him?"
"Why I think none so easily; and it can do him no harm, you know;I often tell him, when we make friends, that if it were not for apostilion and his daughter, he would be quite out of practice inscolding and swearing; for whenever he is upon the road he does nothingelse; though why he is in such a hurry, nobody can divine, for gowhither he will he has nothing to do."
Thus ran on this flighty lady, happy in high animal spirits, andcareless who was otherwise, till, at some distance, they perceived LordDerford, who was approaching to join them.
"Miss Beverley," cried she, "here comes your adorer; I shall thereforeonly walk on till we arrive at that large oak, and then make himprostrate himself at your feet, and leave you together."
"Your ladyship is extremely good! but I am glad to be apprized of yourintention, as it will enable me to save you that trouble."
She then turned quick back, and passing Lord Derford, who still walkedon towards Lady Honoria, she returned to the house; but, upon enteringthe parlour, found all the company dispersed, Delvile alone excepted,who was walking about the room, with his tablets in his hand, in whichhe had been writing.
From a mixture of shame and surprize, Cecilia, at the sight of him, wasinvoluntarily retreating; but, hastening to the door, he called out in areproachful tone, "Will you not even enter the same room with me?"
"O yes," cried she, returning; "I was only afraid I disturbed you."
"No, madam," answered he, gravely; "you are the only person who couldnot disturb me, since my employment was making memorandums for a letterto yourself; with which, however, I did not desire to importune you, butthat you have denied me the honour of even a five minutes' audience."
Cecilia, in the utmost confusion at this attack, knew not whether tostand still or proceed; but, as he presently continued his speech, shefound she had no choice but to stay.
"I should be sorry to quit this place, especially as the length of myabsence is extremely uncertain, while I have the unhappiness to be underyour displeasure, without making some little attempt to apologize forthe behaviour which incurred it. Must I, then, finish my letter, or willyou at last deign to hear me?"
"My displeasure, Sir," said Cecilia, "died with its occasion; I beg,therefore, that it may rest no longer in your remembrance."
"I meant not, madam, to infer, that the subject or indeed that theobject merited your deliberate attention; I simply wish to explain whatmay have appeared mysterious in my conduct, and for what may have seemedstill more censurable, to beg your pardon."
Cecilia now, recovered from her first apprehensions, and calmed, becausepiqued, by the calmness with which he spoke himself, made no oppositionto his request, but suffering him to shut both the door leading into thegarden, and that which led into the hall, she seated herself at one ofthe windows, determined to listen with intrepidity to this long expectedexplanation.
The preparations, however, which he made to obviate being overheard,added to the steadiness with which Cecilia waited his furtherproceedings, soon robbed him of the courage with which he began theassault, and evidently gave him a wish of retreating himself.
At length, after much hesitation, he said "This indulgence, madam,deserves my most grateful acknowledgments; it is, indeed, what I hadlittle right, and still less reason, after the severity I have met withfrom you, to expect."
And here, at the very mention of severity, his courage, called upon byhis pride, instantly returned, and he went on with the same spirit hehad begun.
"That severity, however, I mean not to lament; on the contrary, ina situation such as mine, it was perhaps the first blessing I couldreceive; I have found from it, indeed, more advantage and relief thanfrom all that philosophy, reflection or fortitude could offer. It hasshewn me the vanity of bewailing the barrier, placed by fate to mywishes, since it has shewn me that another, less inevitable, but equallyinsuperable, would have opposed them. I have determined, therefore,after a struggle I must confess the most painful, to deny myself thedangerous solace of your society, and endeavour, by joining dissipationto reason, to forget the too great pleasure which hitherto it hasafforded me."
"Easy, Sir," cried Cecilia, "will be your task; I can only wish there-establishment of your health may be found no more difficult."
"Ah, madam," cried he, with a reproachful smile, "he jests at scars whonever felt a wound!--but this is a strain in which I have no right totalk, and I will neither offend your delicacy, nor my own integrity, byendeavouring to work upon the generosity of your disposition in order toexcite your compassion. Not such was the motive with which I begged thisaudience; but merely a desire, before I tear myself away, to open to youmy heart, without palliation or reserve."
He paused a few moments; and Cecilia finding her suspicions just thatthis interview was meant to be final, considered that her trial, howeversevere, would be short, and called forth all her resolution to sustainit with spirit.
"Long before I had the honour of your acquaintance," he continued, "yourcharacter and your accomplishments were known to me; Mr Biddulph ofSuffolk, who was my first friend at Oxford, and with whom my intimacyis still undiminished, was early sensible of your excellencies;we corresponded, and his letters were filled with your praises. Heconfessed to me, that his admiration had been unfortunate;--alas! Imight now make the same confession to him!"
Mr Biddulph, among many of the neighbouring gentlemen, had madeproposals to the Dean for Cecilia, which, at her desire, were rejected.
"When Mr Harrel saw masks in Portman-square, my curiosity to behold alady so adored, and so cruel, led me thither; your dress made you easilydistinguished.--Ah Miss Beverley! I venture not to mention what I th
enfelt for my friend! I will only say that something which I felt formyself, warned me instantly to avoid you, since the clause in youruncle's will was already well known to me."
Now, then, at last, thought Cecilia, all perplexity is over!--the changeof name is the obstacle; he inherits all the pride of his family,--andtherefore to that family will I unrepining leave him!
"This warning," he continued, "I should not have disregarded, had Inot, at the Opera, been deceived into a belief you were engaged; I thenwished no longer to shun you; bound in honour to forbear all efforts atsupplanting a man, to whom I thought you almost united, I considered youalready as married, and eagerly as I sought your society, I sought itnot with more pleasure than innocence. Yet even then, to be candid,I found in myself a restlessness about your affairs that kept me ineternal perturbation; but I flattered myself it was mere curiosity, andonly excited by the perpetual change of opinion to which occasion gaverise, concerning which was the happy man."
"I am sorry," said Cecilia, coolly, "there was any such mistake."
"I will not, madam, fatigue you," he returned, "by tracing the progressof my unfortunate admiration; will endeavour to be more brief, for Isee you are already wearied." He stopt a moment, hoping for some littleencouragement; but Cecilia, in no humour to give it, assumed an air ofunconcern, and sat wholly quiet.
"I knew not," he then went on, with a look of extreme mortification,"the warmth with which I honoured your virtues, till you deigned toplead to me for Mr Belfield,--but let me not recollect the feelings ofthat moment!--yet were they nothing,--cold, languid, lifeless to what Iafterwards experienced, when you undeceived me finally with respect toyour situation, and informed me the report concerning Sir Robert Floyerwas equally erroneous with that which concerned Belfield! O what was theagitation of my whole soul at that instant!--to know you disengaged,--tosee you before me,--by the disorder of my whole frame to discover themistake I had cherished--"
Cecilia then, half rising, yet again seating herself, looked extremelyimpatient to be gone.
"Pardon me, madam," he cried; "I will have done, and trace my feelingsand my sufferings no longer, but hasten, for my own sake as well asyours, to the reason why I have spoken at all. From the hour thatmy ill-destined passion was fully known to myself, I weighed all theconsequences of indulging it, and found, added to the extreme hazard ofsuccess, an impropriety even in the attempt. My honour in the honourof my family is bound; what to that would seem wrong, in me would beunjustifiable; yet where inducements so numerous were opposed by onesingle objection!--where virtue, beauty, education and family were allunexceptionable,--Oh cruel clause! barbarous and repulsive clause! thatforbids my aspiring to the first of women, but by an action that with myown family would degrade me for ever!"
He stopt, overpowered by his own emotion, and Cecilia arose. "I see,madam," he cried, "your eagerness to be gone, and however at this momentI may lament it, I shall recollect it hereafter with advantage. But toconclude; I determined to avoid you, and, by avoiding, to endeavour toforget you; I determined, also, that no human being, and yourself leastof all, should know, should even suspect the situation of my mind; andthough upon various occasions, my prudence and forbearance have suddenlyyielded to surprise and to passion, the surrender has been short, andalmost, I believe, unnoticed.
"This silence and this avoidance I sustained with decent constancy, tillduring the storm, in an ill-fated moment, I saw, or thought I saw you insome danger, and then, all caution off guard, all resolution surprised,every passion awake, and tenderness triumphant--"
"Why, Sir," cried Cecilia, angrily, "and for what purpose all this?"
"Alas, I know not!" said he, with a deep sigh, "I thought myself betterqualified for this conference, and meant to be firm and concise. I havetold my story ill, but as your own understanding will point out thecause, your own benevolence will perhaps urge some excuse.
"Too certain, since that unfortunate accident, that all disguise wasvain, and convinced by your displeasure of the impropriety of which Ihad been guilty, I determined, as the only apology I could offer, toopen to you my whole heart, and then fly you perhaps for ever.
"This, madam, incoherently indeed, yet with sincerity, I have now done;my sufferings and my conflicts I do not mention, for I dare not! Owere I to paint to you the bitter struggles of a mind all at war withitself,--Duty, spirit, and fortitude, combating love, happinessand inclination,--each conquering alternately, and alternately eachvanquished,--I could endure it no longer, I resolved by one effort tofinish the strife, and to undergo an instant of even exquisite torture,in preference to a continuance of such lingering misery!"
"The restoration of your health, Sir, and since you fancy it has beeninjured, of your happiness," said Cecilia, "will, I hope, be as speedy,as I doubt not they are certain."
"Since I fancy it has been injured!" repeated he; "what a phrase, afteran avowal such as mine! But why should I wish to convince you of mysincerity, when to you it cannot be more indifferent, than to myself itis unfortunate! I have now only to entreat your pardon for the robbery Ihave committed upon your time, and to repeat my acknowledgments that youhave endeavoured to hear me with patience."
"If you honour me, Sir, with some portion of your esteem," said theoffended Cecilia, "these acknowledgments, perhaps, should be mine;suppose them, however made, for I have a letter to write, and cantherefore stay no longer."
"Nor do I presume, madam," cried he proudly, "to detain you; hithertoyou may frequently have thought me mysterious, sometimes strange andcapricious, and perhaps almost always, unmeaning; to clear myself fromthese imputations, by a candid confession of the motives which havegoverned me, is all that I wished. Once, also--I hope but once,--youthought me impertinent,--there, indeed, I less dare vindicate myself--"
"There is no occasion, Sir," interrupted she, walking towards the door,"for further vindication in any thing; I am perfectly satisfied, and ifmy good wishes are worth your acceptance, assure yourself you possessthem."
"Barbarous, and insulting!" cried he, half to himself; and then, with aquick motion hastening to open the door for her, "Go, madam," he added,almost breathless with conflicting emotions, "go, and be your happinessunalterable as your inflexibility!"
Cecilia was turning back to answer this reproach, but the sight of LadyHonoria, who was entering at the other door, deterred her, and she wenton.
When she came to her own room, she walked about it some time in a stateso unsettled, between anger and disappointment, sorrow and pride, thatshe scarce knew to which emotion to give way, and felt almost burstingwith each.
"The die," she cried, "is at last thrown; and this affair is concludedfor ever! Delvile himself is content to relinquish me; no father hascommanded, no mother has interfered, he has required no admonition,full well enabled to act for himself by the powerful instigation ofhereditary arrogance! Yet my family, he says,--unexpected condescension!my family and every other circumstance is unexceptionable; how feeble,then, is that regard which yields to one only objection! how potent thathaughtiness which to nothing will give way! Well, let him keep his name!since so wondrous its properties, so all-sufficient its preservation,what vanity, what presumption in me, to suppose myself an equivalent forits loss!"
Thus, deeply offended, her spirits were supported by resentment, and notonly while in company, but when alone, she found herself scarceaverse to the approaching separation, and enabled to endure it withoutrepining.