CHAPTER v.
A DECISION.
This business effectually occupied the present and following day; thethird, Cecilia expected her answer from Delvile Castle, and the visitshe so much dreaded from the attorney.
The answer arrived first.
_To Miss Beverley_.
MADAM,--As my son has never apprized me of the extraordinary step whichyour letter intimates, I am too unwilling to believe him capable of sofar forgetting what he owes his family, to ratify any such intimation byinterfering with my counsel or opinion.--I am, Madam, &c.,
COMPTON DELVILE.
DELVILE CASTLE, _May 1st, 1780_.
Cecilia had little right to be surprised by this letter, and she had nota moment to comment upon it, before the attorney arrived.
"Well, madam," said the man, as he entered the parlour, "Mr Egglestonhas stayed your own time very patiently: he commissions me now toenquire if it is convenient to you to quit the premises."
"No, Sir, it is by no means convenient to me; and if Mr Eggleston willwait some time longer, I shall be greatly obliged to him."
"No doubt, madam, but he will, upon proper considerations."
"What, Sir, do you call proper?"
"Upon your advancing to him, as I hinted before, an immediate particularsum from what must, by and bye, be legally restituted."
"If this is the condition of his courtesy, I will quit the house withoutgiving him further trouble."
"Just as it suits you, madam. He will be glad to take possessionto-morrow or next day."
"You did well, Sir, to commend his patience! I shall, however, merelydischarge my servants, and settle my accounts, and be ready to make wayfor him."
"You will not take it amiss, madam, if I remind you that the accountwith Mr Eggleston must be the first that is settled."
"If you mean the arrears of this last fortnight or three weeks,I believe I must desire him to wait Mr Delvile's return, as I mayotherwise myself be distressed for ready money."
"That, madam, is not likely, as it is well known you have a fortune thatwas independent of your late uncle; and as to distress for ready money,it is a plea Mr Eggleston can urge much more strongly."
"This is being strangely hasty, Sir!--so short a time as it is since MrEggleston could expect _any_ of this estate!"
"That, madam, is nothing to the purpose; from the moment it is his, hehas as many wants for it as any other gentleman. He desired me, however,to acquaint you, that if you still chose an apartment in this house,till Mr Delvile returns, you shall have one at your service."
"To be a _guest_ in this house, Sir," said Cecilia, drily, "mightperhaps seem strange to me; I will not, therefore, be so much in hisway."
Mr Carn then informed her she might put her seal upon whatever she meanthereafter to claim or dispute, and took his leave.
Cecilia now shut herself up in her own room, to meditate withoutinterruption, before she would proceed to any action. She felt muchinclination to send instantly for some lawyer; but when she consideredher peculiar situation, the absence of her husband, the renunciation ofhis father, the loss of her fortune, and her ignorance upon the subject,she thought it better to rest quiet till Delvile's own fate, and ownopinion could be known, than to involve herself in a lawsuit she was solittle able to superintend.
In this cruel perplexity of her mind and her affairs, her first thoughtwas to board again with Mrs Bayley; but that was soon given up, for shefelt a repugnance unconquerable to continuing in her native county, whendeprived of her fortune, and cast out of her dwelling.
Her situation, indeed, was singularly unhappy, since, by this unforeseenvicissitude of fortune, she was suddenly, from being an object of envyand admiration, sunk into distress, and threatened with disgrace; frombeing every where caressed, and by every voice praised, she blushed tobe seen, and expected to be censured; and, from being generally regardedas an example of happiness, and a model of virtue, she was now inone moment to appear to the world, an outcast from her own house, yetreceived into no other! a bride, unclaimed by a husband! an HEIRESS,dispossessed of all wealth!
To be first acknowledged as _Mrs Delvile_ in a state so degrading, shecould not endure; and to escape from it, one way alone remained, whichwas going instantly abroad.
Upon this, therefore, she finally determined: her former objections tosuch a step being now wholly, though unpleasantly removed, since she hadneither estate nor affairs to demand her stay, and since all hopes ofconcealment were totally at an end. Her marriage, therefore, and itsdisgraceful consequences being published to the world, she resolvedwithout delay to seek the only asylum which was proper for her, in theprotection of the husband for whom she had given up every other.
She purposed, therefore, to go immediately and privately to London,whence she could best settle her route for the continent: where shehoped to arrive before the news of her distress reached Delvile, whomnothing, she was certain, but her own presence, could keep there for amoment after hearing it.
Thus decided, at length, in her plan, she proceeded to put it inexecution with calmness and intrepidity; comforting herself that theconveniencies and indulgencies with which she was now parting, wouldsoon be restored to her, and though not with equal power, with far moresatisfaction. She told her steward her design of going the next morningto London, bid him pay instantly all her debts, and discharge allher servants, determining to keep no account open but that with MrEggleston, which he had made so intricate by double and undue demands,that she thought it most prudent and safe to leave him wholly toDelvile.
She then packed up all her papers and letters, and ordered her maid topack up her clothes.
She next put her own seal upon her cabinets, draws, and many otherthings, and employed almost all her servants at once, in making completeinventories of what every room contained.
She advised Mrs Harrel to send without delay for Mr Arnott, and returnto his house. She had first purposed to carry Henrietta home to hermother herself; but another scheme for her now occurred, from which shehoped much future advantage to the amiable and dejected girl.
She knew well, that deep as was at present her despondency, the removalof all possibility of hope, by her knowledge of Delvile's marriage, mustawaken her before long from the delusive visions of her romantic fancy;Mr Arnott himself was in a situation exactly similar, and the knowledgeof the same event would probably be productive of the same effect. WhenMrs Harrel, therefore, began to repine at the solitude to which she wasreturning, Cecilia proposed to her the society of Henrietta, which, gladto catch at any thing that would break into her loneliness, she listenedto with pleasure, and seconded by an invitation.
Henrietta, to whom all houses appeared preferable to her own home,joyfully accepted the offer, committing to Cecilia the communication ofthe change of her abode to Mrs Belfield.
Cecilia, who in the known and tried honour of Mr Arnott wouldunreluctantly have trusted a sister, was much pleased by this littlearrangement, from which should no good ensue, no evil, at least, wasprobable. But she hoped, through the mutual pity their mutual melancholymight inspire, that their minds, already not dissimilar, would besoftened in favour of each other, and that, in conclusion, each mightbe happy in receiving the consolation each could give, and a union wouldtake place, in which their reciprocal disappointment might, in time, benearly forgotten.
There was not, indeed, much promise of such an event in the countenanceof Mr Arnott, when, late at night, he came for his sister, nor in theunbounded sorrow of Henrietta, when the moment of leave-taking arrived.Mr Arnott looked half dead with the shock his sister's intelligence hadgiven him, and Henrietta's heart, torn asunder between friendshipand love, was scarce able to bear a parting, which from Cecilia, sheregarded as eternal, added to the consciousness it was occasioned by hergoing to join Delvile for life!
Cecilia, who both read and pitied these conflicting emotions, washerself extremely hurt by this necessary separation. She tenderlyloved Henrietta, she loved her even the more for th
e sympathy of theiraffections, which called forth the most forcible commiseration,--thatwhich springs from fellow-feeling!
"Farewell," she cried, "my Henrietta, be but happy as you are innocent,and be both as I love you, and nothing will your friends have to wishfor you, or yourself to regret."
"I must always regret," cried the sobbing Henrietta, "that I cannot livewith you for ever! I should regret it if I were queen of all the world,how much more then, when I am nothing and nobody! I do not wish _you_happy, madam, for I think happiness was made on purpose for you, andnobody else ever had it before; I only wish you health and long life,for the sake of those who will be made as happy as you,--for you willspoil them,--as you have spoilt me,--from being ever happy without you!"
Cecilia re-iterated her assurances of a most faithful regard, embracedMrs Harrel, spoke words of kindness to the drooping Mr Arnott, and thenparted with them all.
Having still many small matters to settle, and neither company norappetite, she would eat no supper; but, in passing thro' the hall, inher way to her own room, she was much surprised to see all her domesticsassembled in a body. She stopt to enquire their intention, when theyeagerly pressed forward, humbly and earnestly entreating to know whythey were discharged? "For no reason in the world," cried Cecilia, "butbecause it is at present out of my power to keep you any longer."
"Don't part with _me_, madam, for that," cried one of them, "for I willserve you for nothing!"
"So will I!" cried another, "And I!" "And I!" was echoed by them all;while "no other such mistress is to be found!" "We can never bear anyother place!" and "keep _me_, madam, at least!" was even clamorouslyurged by each of them.
Cecilia, distressed and flattered at once by their unwillingness toquit her, received this testimony of gratitude for the kind and liberaltreatment they had received, with the warmest thanks both for theirservices and fidelity, and assured them that when again she was settled,all those who should be yet unprovided with places, should be preferredin her house before any other claimants.
Having, with difficulty, broken from them, she sent for her own man,Ralph, who had lived with her many years before the death of the Dean,and told him she meant still to continue him in her service. The manheard it with great delight, and promised to re-double his diligence todeserve her favour. She then communicated the same news to her maid, whohad also resided with her some years, and by whom with the same, or morepleasure it was heard.
These and other regulations employed her almost all night; yet lateand fatigued as she went to bed, she could not close her eyes: fearfulsomething was left undone, she robbed herself of the short time she hadallowed to rest, by incessant meditation upon what yet remained to beexecuted. She could recollect, however, one only thing that had escapedher vigilance, which was acquainting the pew-opener, and two or threeother poor women who had weekly pensions from her, that they must, atleast for the present, depend no longer upon her assistance.
Nothing indeed could be more painful to her than giving them suchinformation, yet not to be speedy with it would double the barbarity oftheir disappointment. She even felt for these poor women, whose loss inher she knew would be irreparable, a compassion that drove from her mindalmost every other subject, and determined her, in order to soften tothem this misfortune, to communicate it herself, that she might preventthem from sinking under it, by reviving them with hopes of her futureassistance.
She had ordered at seven o'clock in the morning an hired chaise at thedoor, and she did not suffer it long to wait for her. She quitted herhouse with a heart full of care and anxiety, grieving at the necessityof making such a sacrifice, uncertain how it would turn out, andlabouring under a thousand perplexities with respect to the measuresshe ought immediately to take. She passed, when she reached the hall,through a row of weeping domestics, not one of whom with dry eyes couldsee the house bereft of such a mistress. She spoke to them all withkindness, and as much as was in her power with chearfulness: but thetone of her voice gave them little reason to think the concern at thisjourney was all their own.
She ordered her chaise to drive round to the pew-opener's and thence tothe rest of her immediate dependents. She soon, however, regretted thatshe had given herself this task; the affliction of these poor pensionerswas clamorous, was almost heart-breaking; they could live, they said, nolonger, they were ruined for ever; they should soon be without breadto eat, and they might cry for help in vain, when their generous, theironly benefactress was far away!
Cecilia made the kindest efforts, to comfort and encourage them,assuring them the very moment her own affairs were arranged, she wouldremember them all, visit them herself, and contribute to their relief,with all the power she should have left. Nothing, however, could consolethem; they clung about her, almost took the horses from the chaise,and conjured her not to desert those who were solely cherished by herbounty!
Nor was this all she had to suffer; the news of her intention to quitthe county was now reported throughout the neighbourhood, and had spreadthe utmost consternation among the poor in general, and the lower closeof her own tenants in particular, and the road was soon lined withwomen and children, wringing their hands and crying. They followedher carriage with supplications that she would return to them, mixingblessings with their lamentations, and prayers for her happiness withthe bitterest repinings at their own loss!
Cecilia was extremely affected; her liberal and ever-ready hand wasevery other instant involuntarily seeking her purse, which her manyimmediate expences, made her prudence as often check: and now first shefelt the capital error she had committed, in living constantly to theutmost extent of her income, without ever preparing, though so able tohave done it, against any unfortunate contingency.
When she escaped, at last, from receiving any longer this painfultribute to her benevolence, she gave orders to her man to ride forwardand stop at the Grove, that a precise and minute account of Mr Monckton,might be the last, as it was now become the most important, news sheshould hear in Suffolk. This he did, when to her equal surprise anddelight, she heard that he was suddenly so much better, there were hopesof his recovery.
Intelligence so joyful made her amends for almost every thing; yet shehesitated not in her plan of going abroad, as she knew not where to bein England, and could not endure to hurry Delvile from his sick mother,by acquainting him with her helpless and distressed situation. But sorevived were her spirits by these unexpected tidings, that a gleam ofbrightest hope once more danced before her eyes, and she felt herselfinvigorated with fresh courage and new strength, sufficient to supporther through all hardships and fatigues.
Spirits and courage were indeed much wanted for the enterprize she hadformed; but little used to travelling, and having never been out ofEngland, she knew nothing of the route but by a general knowledge ofgeography, which, though it could guide her east or west, could teachher nothing of foreign customs, the preparations necessary for thejourney, the impositions she should guard against, nor the variousdangers to which she might be exposed, from total ignorance of thecountry through which she had to pass.
Conscious of these deficiencies for such an undertaking, she deliberatedwithout intermission how to obviate them. Yet sometimes, when to thesehazards, those arising from her youth and sex were added, she was uponthe point of relinquishing her scheme, as too perilous for execution,and resolving to continue privately in London till some change happenedin her affairs.
But though to every thing she could suggest, doubts and difficultiesarose, she had no friend to consult, nor could devise any means by whichthey might be terminated. Her maid was her only companion, and Ralph,who had spent almost his whole life in Suffolk, her only guard andattendant. To hire immediately some French servant, used to travellingin his own country, seemed the first step she had to take, and soessential, that no other appeared feasible till it was done. But whereto hear of such a man she could not tell, and to take one notwell recommended, would be exposing herself to frauds and dangersinnumerable.
Yet so slow as Delvile travelled, from whom her last letter was stilldated Ostend, she thought herself almost certain, could she once reachthe continent, of overtaking him in his route within a day or two of herlanding.
The earnest inclination with which this scheme was seconded, made herevery moment less willing to forego it. It seemed the only harbour forher after the storm she had weathered, and the only refuge she couldproperly seek while thus houseless and helpless. Even were Delvile inEngland, he had no place at present to offer her, nor could any thing beproposed so unexceptionable as her living with Mrs Delvile at Nice,till he knew his father's pleasure, and, in a separate journey home, hadarranged his affairs either for her return, or her continuance abroad.
With what regret did she now look back to the time when, in a distresssuch as this, she should have applied for, and received the advice ofMr Monckton as oracular! The loss of a counsellor so long, so implicitlyrelied upon, lost to her also, only by his own interested worthlessness,she felt almost daily, for almost daily some intricacy or embarrassmentmade her miss his assistance: and though glad, since she found him soundeserving, that she had escaped the snares he had spread for her,she grieved much that she knew no man of honest character and equalabilities, that would care for her sufficiently to supply his place inher confidence.
As she was situated at present, she could think only of Mr Belfield towhom she could apply for any advice. Nor even to him was the applicationunexceptionable, the calumnies of Mr Delvile senior making itdisagreeable to her even to see him. But he was at once a man ofthe world and a man of honour; he was the friend of Mortimer, whoseconfidence in him was great, and his own behaviour had uniformly shewn arespect far removed from impertinence or vanity, and a mind superior tobeing led to them by the influence of his gross mother. She had, indeed,when she last quitted his house, determined never to re-enter it; butdeterminations hasty or violent, are rarely observed, because rarelypracticable; she had promised Henrietta to inform Mrs Belfield whithershe was gone, and reconcile her to the absence she still hoped to makefrom home. She concluded, therefore, to go to Portland-street withoutdelay, and enquire openly and at once whether, and when, she mightspeak with Mr Belfield; resolving, if tormented again by any forwardinsinuations, to rectify all mistakes by acknowledging her marriage.
She gave directions accordingly to the post-boy and Ralph.
With respect to her own lodgings while in town, as money was no longerunimportant to her, she meant from the Belfields to go to the Hills, bywhom she might be recommended to some reputable and cheap place. To theBelfields, however, though very late when she arrived in town, shewent first, unwilling to lose a moment in promoting her scheme of goingabroad.
She left her maid in the chaise, and sent Ralph on to Mrs Hill, withdirections to endeavour immediately to procure her a lodging.