The next morning opened with another scene; Mrs Harrel ran into
Cecilia’s room before breakfast, and acquainted her that Mr Harrel had
not been at home all night.
The consternation with which she heard this account she instantly
endeavoured to dissipate, in order to soften the apprehension with
which it was communicated: Mrs Harrel, however, was extremely uneasy,
and sent all the town over to make enquiries, but without receiving
any intelligence.
Cecilia, unwilling to leave her in a state of such alarm, wrote an
excuse to Mrs Delvile, that she might continue with her till some
information was procured. A subject also of such immediate concern,
was sufficient apology for avoiding any particular conversation with
Miss Belfield, who called, as usual, about noon, and whose susceptible
heart was much affected by the evident disturbance in which she found
Cecilia.
The whole day passed, and no news arrived: but, greatly to her
astonishment, Mrs Harrel in the evening prepared for going to an
assembly! yet declaring at the, same time it was extremely
disagreeable to her, only she was afraid, if she stayed away, every
body would suppose something was the matter.
Who then at last, thought Cecilia, are half so much the slaves of the
world as the gay and the dissipated? Those who work for hire, have at
least their hours of rest, those who labour for subsistence are at
liberty when subsistence is procured; but those who toil to please the
vain and the idle, undertake a task which can never be finished,
however scrupulously all private peace, and all internal comfort, may
be sacrificed in reality to the folly of saving appearances!
Losing, however, the motive for which she had given up her own
engagement, she now sent for her chair, in order to spend an hour or
two with Mrs Delvile. The servants, as they conducted her up stairs,
said they would call their lady; and in entering the drawing-room she
saw, reading and alone, young Delvile.
He seemed much surprised, but received her with the utmost respect,
apologizing for the absence of his mother, whom he said had understood
she was not to see her till the next day, and had left him to write
letters now, that she might then be at liberty.
Cecilia in return made excuses for her seeming inconsistency; after
which, for some time, all conversation dropt.
The silence was at length broken by young Delvile’s saying “Mr
Belfield’s merit has not been thrown away upon Lord Vannelt; he has
heard an excellent character of him from all his former acquaintance,
and is now fitting up an apartment for him in his own house till his
son begins his tour.”
Cecilia said she was very happy in hearing such intelligence; and then
again they were both silent.
“You have seen,” said young Delvile, after this second pause, “Mr
Belfield’s sister?”
Cecilia, not without changing colour, answered “Yes, Sir.”
“She is very amiable,” he continued, “too amiable, indeed, for her
situation, since her relations, her brother alone excepted, are all
utterly unworthy of her.”
He stopt; but Cecilia made no answer, and he presently added “Perhaps
you do not think her amiable?—you may have seen more of her, and
know something to her disadvantage?”
“O no!” cried Cecilia, with a forced alacrity, “but only I was
thinking that—did you say you knew all her relations?”
“No,” he answered, “but when I have been with Mr Belfield, some of
them have called upon him.”
Again they were both silent; and then Cecilia, ashamed of her apparent
backwardness to give praise, compelled herself to say, “Miss Belfield
is indeed a very sweet girl, and I wish—” she stopt, not well knowing
herself what she meant to add.
“I have been greatly pleased,” said he, after waiting some time to
hear if she would finish her speech, “by being informed of your
goodness to her, and I think she seems equally to require and to
deserve it. I doubt not you will extend it to her when she is deprived
of her brother, for then will be the time that by doing her most
service, it will reflect on yourself most honour.”
Cecilia, confounded by this recommendation, faintly answered
“Certainly,—whatever is in my power,—I shall be very glad—”
And just then Mrs Delvile made her appearance, and during the mutual
apologies that followed, her son left the room. Cecilia, glad of any
pretence to leave it also, insisted upon giving no interruption to Mrs
Delvile’s letter writing, and having promised to spend all the next
day with her, hurried back to her chair.
The reflections that followed her thither were by no means the most
soothing: she began now to apprehend that the pity she had bestowed
upon Miss Belfield, Miss Belfield in a short time might bestow upon
her: at any other time, his recommendation would merely have served to
confirm her opinion of his benevolence, but in her present state of
anxiety and uncertainty, every thing gave birth to conjecture, and had
power to alarm her. He had behaved to her of late with the strangest
coldness and distance,—his praise of Henrietta had been ready and
animated,—Henrietta she knew adored him, and she knew not with what
reason,—but an involuntary suspicion arose in her mind, that the
partiality she had herself once excited, was now transferred to that
little dreaded, but not less dangerous rival.
Yet, if such was the case, what was to become either of the pride or
the interest of his family? Would his relations ever pardon an
alliance stimulated neither by rank nor riches? would Mr Delvile, who
hardly ever spoke but to the high-born, without seeming to think his
dignity somewhat injured, deign to receive for a daughter-in-law the
child of a citizen and tradesman? would Mrs Delvile herself, little
less elevated in her notions, though infinitely softer in her manners,
ever condescend to acknowledge her? Cecilia’s own birth and
connections, superior as they were to those of Miss Belfield, were
even openly disdained by Mr Delvile, and all her expectations of being
received into his family were founded upon the largeness of her
fortune, in favour of which the brevity of her genealogy might perhaps
pass unnoticed. But what was the chance of Miss Belfield, who neither
had ancestors to boast, nor wealth to allure?
This thought, however, awakened all the generosity of her soul; “If,”
cried she, “the advantages I possess are merely those of riches, how
little should I be flattered by any appearance of preference! and how
ill can I judge with what sincerity it may be offered! happier in that
case is the lowly Henrietta, who to poverty may attribute neglect, but
who can only be sought and caressed from motives of purest regard. She
loves Mr Delvile, loves him with the most artless affection;—perhaps,
too, he loves her in return,—why else his solicitude to know my
opinion of her, and why so sudden his alarm when he thought it
unfavourable? Perhaps he means to marry her, and to sacrifice to her
innocence and her attractions all plans of ambition, and all views of
aggrandizement:—thrice happy Henrietta, if such is thy prospect of
felicity! to have inspired a passion so disinterested, may humble the
most insolent of thy superiors, and teach even the wealthiest to envy
thee!”
Nguồn: Wikisource English — Cecilia (Burney)/Book 5/Chapter vi. Văn bản được nhập và định dạng lại; CC BY-SA 4.0, có thể áp dụng điều khoản bổ sung của tác phẩm.