“I thought,” answered he, with some hesitation, “and I think still, that your enquiries ought to be his cure.”
“O,” cried Cecilia, “I hope he has far better medicines: but I am afraid I have been misinformed, for I see you do not think him better.”
“You must not, however,” replied he, “blame those messengers whose artifice has only had your satisfaction in view; nor should I be so malignant as to blast their designs, if I did not fear that Mr Belfield’s actual safety may be endangered by your continual deception.”
“What deception, sir? I don’t at all understand you. How is his safety endangered?”
“Ah madam!” said he smiling, “what danger indeed is there that any man would not risk to give birth to such solicitude! Mr Belfield however, I believe is in none from which a command of yours cannot rescue him.”
“Then were I an hard-hearted damsel indeed not to issue it! but if my commands are so medicinal, pray instruct me how to administer them.”
“You must order him to give up, for the present, his plan of going into the country, where he can have no assistance, and where his wound must be dressed only by a common servant, and to remain quietly in town till his surgeon pronounces that he may travel without any hazard.”
“But is he, seriously, so mad as to intend leaving town without the consent of his surgeon?”
“Nothing less than such an intention could have induced me to undeceive you with respect to his recovery. But indeed I am no friend to those artifices which purchase present relief by future misery: I venture, therefore, to speak to you the simple truth, that by a timely exertion of your influence you may prevent further evil.”
“I know not, Sir,” said Cecilia, with the utmost surprise, “why you should suppose I have any such influence; nor can I imagine that any deception has been practiced.”
“It is possible,” answered he, “I may have been too much alarmed; but in such a case as this, no information ought to be depended upon but that of his surgeon. You, madam, may probably know his opinion?”
“Me?—No, indeed? I never saw his surgeon; I know not even who he is.”
“I purpose calling upon him to-morrow morning; will Miss Beverley permit me afterwards the honour of communicating to her what may pass?”
“I thank you, sir,” said she, colouring very high; “but my impatience is by no means so great as to occasion my giving you that trouble.”
Delvile, perceiving her change of countenance, instantly, and with much respect, entreated her pardon for the proposal; which, however, she had no sooner granted, than he said very archly, “Why indeed you have not much right to be angry, since it was your own frankness that excited mine. And thus, you find, like most other culprits, I am ready to cast the blame of the offence upon the offended. I feel, however, an irresistible propensity to do service to Mr Belfield;—shall I sin quite beyond forgiveness if I venture to tell you how I found him situated this morning?”
“No, certainly,—if you wish it, I can have no objection.”
“I found him, then, surrounded by a set of gay young men, who, by way of keeping up his spirits, made him laugh and talk without ceasing: he assured me himself that he was perfectly well, and intended to gallop out of town to-morrow morning; though, when I shook hands with him at parting, I was both shocked and alarmed to feel by the burning heat of the skin, that far from discarding his surgeon, he ought rather to call in a physician.”
“I am very much concerned to hear this account,” said Cecilia; “but I do not well understand what you mean should on my part follow it?”
“That,” answered he, bowing, with a look of mock gravity, “I pretend not to settle! In stating the case I have satisfied my conscience, and if in hearing it you can pardon the liberty I have taken, I shall as much honour the openness of your character, as I admire that of your countenance.”
Cecilia now, to her no little astonishment, found she had the same mistake to clear up at present concerning Mr Belfield, that only three days before she had explained with respect to the Baronet. But she had no time to speak further upon the subject, as the entrance of Mrs Delvile put an end to their discourse.
That lady received her with the most distinguishing kindness; apologised for not sooner waiting upon her, and repeatedly declared that nothing but indisposition should have prevented her returning the favour of her first visit.
They were soon after summoned to dinner. Mr Delvile, to the infinite joy of Cecilia, was out.
The day was spent greatly to her satisfaction. There was no interruption from visitors, she was tormented by the discussion of no disagreeable subjects, the duel was not mentioned, the antagonists were not hinted at, she was teized with no self-sufficient encouragement, and wearied with no mortifying affability; the conversation at once was lively and rational, and though general, was rendered interesting, by a reciprocation of good-will and pleasure in the conversers.
The favourable opinion she had conceived both of the mother and the son this long visit served to confirm: in Mrs Delvile she found strong sense, quick parts, and high breeding; in Mortimer, sincerity and vivacity joined with softness and elegance; and in both there seemed the most liberal admiration of talents, with an openness of heart that disdained all disguise. Greatly pleased with their manners, and struck with all that was apparent in their characters, she much regretted the prejudice of Mr Monckton, which now, with the promise she had given him, was all that opposed her making an immediate effort towards a change in her abode.
She did not take her leave till eleven o’clock, when Mrs Delvile, after repeatedly thanking her for her visit, said she would not so much encroach upon her good nature as to request another till she had waited upon her in return; but added, that she meant very speedily to pay that debt, in order to enable herself, by friendly and frequent meetings, to enter upon the confidential commission with which her guardian had entrusted her.
Cecilia was pleased with the delicacy which gave rise to this forbearance, yet having in fact nothing either to relate or conceal, she was rather sorry than glad at the delay of an explanation, since she found the whole family was in an error with respect to the situation of her affairs.
BOOK III
CHAPTER i. – AN APPLICATION
Cecilia, upon her return home, heard with some surprise that Mr and Mrs Harrel were by themselves in the drawing-room; and, while she was upon the stairs, Mrs Harrel ran out, calling eagerly, “Is that my brother?”
Before she could make an answer, Mr Harrel, in the same impatient tone, exclaimed, “Is it Mr Arnott?”
“No;” said Cecilia, “did you expect him so late?”
“Expect him? Yes,” answered Mr Harrel, “I have expected him the whole evening, and cannot conceive what he has done with himself.”
“‘Tis abominably provoking,” said Mrs Harrel, “that he should be out of the way just now when he is wanted. However, I dare say to-morrow will do as well.”
“I don’t know that,” cried Mr Harrel. “Reeves is such a wretch that I am sure he will give me all the trouble in his power.”
Here Mr Arnott entered; and Mrs Harrel called out “O brother, we have been distressed for you cruelly; we have had a man here who has plagued Mr Harrel to death, and we wanted you sadly to speak to him.”
“I should have been very glad,” said Mr Arnott, “to have been of any use, and perhaps it is not yet too late; who is the man?”
“O,” cried Mr Harrel, carelessly, “only a fellow from that rascally taylor who has been so troublesome to me lately. He has had the impudence, because I did not pay him the moment he was pleased to want his money, to put the bill into the hands of one Reeves, a griping attorney, who has been here this evening, and thought proper to talk to me pretty freely. I can tell the gentleman I shall not easily forget his impertinence! however, I really wish mean time I could get rid of him.”
“How much is the bill, Sir?” said Mr Arnott.
“Why it’s rather a round sum; but I don’t know how it is, one’s bills mount up before one is aware: those fellows charge such confounded sums for tape and buckram; I hardly know what I have had of him, and yet he has run me up a bill of between three and four hundred pound.”
Here there was a general silence; till Mrs Harrel said “Brother, can’t you be so good as to lend us the money? Mr Harrel says he can pay it again very soon.”
“O yes, very soon,” said Mr Harrel, “for I shall receive a great deal of money in a little time; I only want to stop this fellow’s mouth for the present.”
“Suppose I go and talk with him?” said Mr Arnott.
“O, he’s a brute, a stock!” cried Mr Harrel, “nothing but the money will satisfy him: he will hear no reason; one might as well talk to a stone.”
Mr Arnott now looked extremely distressed; but upon his sister’s warmly pressing him not to lose any time, he gently said, “If this person will but wait a week or two, I should be extremely glad, for really just now I cannot take up so much money, without such particular loss and inconvenience, that I hardly know how to do it:—but yet, if he will not be appeased, he must certainly have it.”
“Appeased?” cried Mr Harrel, “you might as well appease the sea in a storm! he is hard as iron.”
Mr Arnott then, forcing a smile, though evidently in much uneasiness, said he would not fail to raise the money the next morning, and was taking his leave, when Cecilia, shocked that such tenderness and good-nature should be thus grossly imposed upon, hastily begged to speak with Mrs Harrel, and taking her into another room, said, “I beseech you, my dear friend, let not your worthy brother suffer by his generosity; permit me in the present exigence to assist Mr Harrel: my having such a sum advanced can be of no consequence; but I should grieve indeed that your brother, who so nobly understands the use of money, should take it up at any particular disadvantage.”
“You are vastly kind,” said Mrs Harrel, “and I will run and speak to them about it: but which ever of you lends the money, Mr Harrel has assured me he shall pay it very soon.”
She then returned with the proposition. Mr Arnott strongly opposed it, but Mr Harrel seemed rather to prefer it, yet spoke so confidently of his speedy payment, that he appeared to think it a matter of little importance from which he accepted it. A generous contest ensued between Mr Arnott and Cecilia, but as she was very earnest, she at length prevailed, and settled to go herself the next morning into the city, in order to have the money advanced by Mr Briggs, who had the management of her fortune entirely to himself, her other guardians never interfering in the executive part of her affairs.
This arranged, they all retired.
And then, with encreasing astonishment, Cecilia reflected upon the ruinous levity of Mr Harrel, and the blind security of his wife; she saw in their situation danger the most alarming, and in the behaviour of Mr Harrel selfishness the most inexcusable; such glaring injustice to his creditors, such utter insensibility to his friends, took from her all wish of assisting him, though the indignant compassion with which she saw the easy generosity of Mr Arnott so frequently abused, had now, for his sake merely, induced her to relieve him.