Cecilia vol. 3

F >> Frances (Fanny) Burney (Madame d'Arblay) >> Cecilia vol. 3

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Yet still whither to go, what to do, or what to resolve, she was wholly
unable to determine; and after meditating almost to madness in the
search of some plan or expedient, she was obliged to give over the
attempt, and be satisfied with remaining quietly where she was, till
she had better news from Delvile of his mother, or better news to send
him of Mr Monckton; carefully, mean time, in all her letters avoiding
to alarm him by any hint of her distress.

Yet was she not idle, either from despair or helplessness: she found
her difficulties encreased, and she called forth more resolution to
combat them: she animated herself by the promise she had made Delvile,
and recovering from the sadness to which she had at first given way,
she now exerted herself with vigour to perform it as she ought.

She began by making an immediate inspection into her affairs, and
endeavouring, where expence seemed unnecessary, to lessen it. She gave
Henrietta to understand she feared they must soon part; and so
afflicted was the unhappy girl at the news, that she found it the most
cruel office she had to execute. The same intimation she gave to Mrs
Harrel, who repined at it more openly, but with a selfishness so
evident that it blunted the edge of pity. She then announced to Albany
her inability to pursue, at present, their extensive schemes of
benevolence; and though he instantly left her, to carry on his
laborious plan elsewhere, the reverence she had now excited in him of
her character, made him leave her with no sensation but of regret, and
readily promise to return when her affairs were settled, or her mind
more composed.

These little preparations, which were all she could make, with
enquiries after Mr Monckton, and writing to Delvile, sufficiently
filled up her time, though her thoughts were by no means confined to
them. Day after day passed, and Mr Monckton continued to linger rather
than live; the letters of Delvile, still only dated from Ostend,
contained the most melancholy complaints of the illness of his mother;
and the time advanced when her answer would be claimed by the attorney.

The thought of such another visit was almost intolerable; and within
two days of the time that she expected it, she resolved to endeavour
herself to prevail with Mr Eggleston to wait longer.

Mr Eggleston was a gentleman whom she knew little more than by sight;
he was no relation to her family, nor had any connection with the Dean,
but by being a cousin to a lady he had married, and who had left him no
children. The dean had no particular regard for him, and had rather
mentioned him in his will as the successor of Cecilia, in case she died
unmarried or changed her name, as a mark that he approved of her doing
neither, than as a matter he thought probable, if even possible, to
turn out in his favour.

He was a man of a large family, the sons of which, who were extravagant
and dissipated, had much impaired his fortune by prevailing with him to
pay their debts, and much distressed him in his affairs by successfully
teasing him for money.

Cecilia, acquainted with these circumstances, knew but too well with
what avidity her estate would be seized by them, and how little the
sons would endure delay, even if the father consented to it. Yet since
the sacrifice to which she had agreed must soon make it indisputably
their own, she determined to deal with them openly; and acknowledged,
therefore, in her letter, her marriage without disguise, but begged
their patience and secresy, and promised, in a short time, the most
honourable retribution and satisfaction.

She sent this letter by a man and horse, Mr Eggleston's habitation
being within fifteen miles of her own.

The answer was from his eldest son, who acquainted her that his father
was very ill, and had put all his affairs into the hands of Mr Carn,
his attorney, who was a man of great credit, and would see justice done
on all sides.

If this answer, which she broke open the instant she took it into her
hand, was in itself a cruel disappointment to her, how was that
disappointment embittered by shame and terror, when, upon again folding
it up, she saw it was directed to Mrs Mortimer Delvile!

This was a decisive stroke; what they wrote to her, she was sure they
would mention to all others; she saw they were too impatient for her
estate to be moved by any representations to a delay, and that their
eagerness to publish their right, took from them all consideration of
what they might make her suffer. Mr Eggleston, she found, permitted
himself to be wholly governed by his son; his son was a needy and
profligate spendthrift, and by throwing the management of the affair
into the hands of an attorney, craftily meant to shield himself from
the future resentment of Delvile, to whom, hereafter, he might affect,
at his convenience, to disapprove Mr Carn's behaviour, while Mr Carn
was always secure, by averring he only exerted himself for the interest
of his client.

The discerning Cecilia, though but little experienced in business, and
wholly unsuspicious by nature, yet saw into this management, and
doubted not these excuses were already arranged. She had only,
therefore, to save herself an actual ejectment, by quitting a house in
which she was exposed to such a disgrace.

But still whither to go she knew not! One only attempt seemed in her
power for an honourable asylum, and that was more irksomely painful to
her than seeking shelter in the meanest retreat: it was applying to Mr
Delvile senior.

The action of leaving her house, whether quietly or forcibly, could not
but instantly authenticate the reports spread by the Egglestons of her
marriage: to hope therefore for secresy any longer would be folly, and
Mr Delvile's rage at such intelligence might be still greater to hear
it by chance than from herself. She now lamented that Delvile had not
at once told the tale, but, little foreseeing such a discovery as the
present, they had mutually concluded to defer the communication till
his return.

Her own anger at the contemptuous ill treatment she had repeatedly met
from him, she was now content not merely to suppress but to dismiss,
since, as the wife of his son without his consent, she considered
herself no longer as wholly innocent of incurring it. Yet, such was her
dread of his austerity and the arrogance of his reproaches, that, by
choice, she would have preferred an habitation with her own pensioner,
the pew-opener, to the grandest apartment in Delvile Castle while he
continued its lord.

In her present situation, however, her choice was little to be
consulted: the honour of Delvile was concerned in her escaping even
temporary disgrace, and nothing, she knew, would so much gratify him,
as any attention from her to his father. She wrote to him, therefore,
the following letter, which she sent by an express.

_To the Hon. Compton Delvile.

April 29th_, 1780.

SIR,--I should not, even by letter, presume thus to force myself upon
your remembrance, did I not think it a duty I now owe your son, both to
risk and to bear the displeasure it may unhappily occasion. After such
an acknowledgment, all other confession would be superfluous; and
uncertain as I am if you will ever deign to own me, more words than are
necessary would be merely impertinent.

It was the intention of your son, Sir, when he left the kingdom, to
submit wholly to your arbitration, at his return, which should be
resigned, his own name or my fortune: but his request for your
decision, and his supplication for your forgiveness, are both, most
unfortunately, prevented, by a premature and unforeseen discovery of
our situation, which renders an immediate determination absolutely
unavoidable.

At this distance from him, I cannot, in time, receive his directions
upon the measures I have to take; pardon me then, Sir, if well knowing
my reference to him will not be more implicit than his own to you, I
venture, in the present important crisis of my affairs, to entreat
those commands instantly, by which I am certain of being guided
ultimately.

I would commend myself to your favour but that I dread exciting your
resentment. I will detain you, therefore, only to add, that the father
of Mr Mortimer Delvile, will ever meet the most profound respect from
her who, without his permission, dare sign no name to the honour she
now has in declaring herself his most humble, and most obedient
servant.

* * * * *

Her mind was somewhat easier when this letter was written, because she
thought it a duty, yet felt reluctance in performing it. She wished to
have represented to him strongly the danger of Delvile's hearing her
distress, but she knew so well his inordinate self-sufficiency, she
feared a hint of that sort might be construed into an insult, and
concluded her only chance that he would do any thing, was by leaving
wholly to his own suggestions the weighing and settling what.

But though nothing was more uncertain than whether she should be
received at Delvile Castle, nothing was more fixed than that she must
quit her own house, since the pride of Mr Delvile left not even a
chance that his interest would conquer it. She deferred not, therefore,
any longer making preparations for her removal, though wholly unsettled
whither.

Her first, which was also her most painful task, was to acquaint
Henrietta with her situation: she sent, therefore, to desire to speak
with her, but the countenance of Henrietta shewed her communication
would not surprise her.

"What is the matter with my dear Henrietta?" cried Cecilia; "who is it
has already afflicted that kind heart which I am now compelled to
afflict for myself?"

Henrietta, in whom anger appeared to be struggling with sorrow,
answered, "No, madam, not afflicted for _you_! it would be strange if I
were, thinking as I think!"

"I am glad," said Cecilia, calmly, "if you are not, for I would give to
you, were it possible, nothing but pleasure and joy."

"Ah madam!" cried Henrietta, bursting into tears, "why will you say so
when you don't care what becomes of me! when you are going to cast me
off!--and when you will soon be too happy ever to think of me more!"

"If I am never happy till then," said Cecilia, "sad, indeed, will be my
life! no, my gentlest friend, you will always have your share in my
heart; and always, to me, would have been the welcomest guest in my
house, but for those unhappy circumstances which make our separating
inevitable."

"Yet you suffered me, madam, to hear from any body that you was married
and going away; and all the common servants in the house knew it before
me."

"I am amazed!" said Cecilia; "how and which way can they have heard
it?"

"The man that went to Mr Eggleston brought the first news of it, for he
said all the servants there talked of nothing else, and that their
master was to come and take possession here next Thursday."

Cecilia started at this most unwelcome intelligence; "Yet you envy me,"
she cried, "Henrietta, though I am forced from my house! though in
quitting it, I am unprovided with any other, and though him for whom I
relinquish it, is far off, without means of protecting, or power of
returning to me!"

"But you are married to him, madam!" cried she, expressively.

"True, my love; but, also, I am parted from him!"

"Oh how differently," exclaimed Henrietta, "do the great think from the
little! were _I_ married,--and _so_ married, I should want neither
house, nor fine cloaths, nor riches, nor any thing;--I should not care
where I lived,--every place would be paradise! I would walk to him
barefoot if he were a thousand miles off, and I should mind nobody else
in the world while I had him to take care of me!"

Ah Delvile! thought Cecilia, what powers of fascination are yours!
should I be tempted to repine at what I have to bear, I will think of
this heroick girl and blush!

Mrs Harrel now broke in upon them, eager to be informed of the truth or
falsehood of the reports which were buzzed throughout the house.
Cecilia briefly related to them both the state of her affairs,
earnestly expressing her concern at the abrupt separation which must
take place, and for which she had been unable to prepare them, as the
circumstances which led to it had been wholly unforeseen by herself.

Mrs Harrel listened to the account with much curiosity and surprize;
but Henrietta wept incessantly in hearing it: the object of a passion
ardent as it was romantic, lost to her past recovery; torn herself,
probably for ever, from the best friend she had in the world; and
obliged to return thus suddenly to an home she detested,--Henrietta
possessed not the fortitude to hear evils such as these, which, to her
inexperienced heart, appeared the severest that could be inflicted.

This conversation over, Cecilia sent for her Steward, and desired him,
with the utmost expedition, to call in all her bills, and instantly to
go round to her tenants within twenty miles, and gather in, from those
who were able to pay, the arrears now due to her; charging him,
however, upon no account, to be urgent with such as seemed distressed.

The bills she had to pay were collected without difficulty; she never
owed much, and creditors are seldom hard of access; but the money she
hoped to receive fell very short of her expectations, for the
indulgence she had shewn to her tenants had ill prepared them for so
sudden a demand.

CHAPTER v.

A DECISION.

This business effectually occupied the present and following day; the
third, Cecilia expected her answer from Delvile Castle, and the visit
she 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 which
your letter intimates, I am too unwilling to believe him capable of so
far forgetting what he owes his family, to ratify any such intimation
by interfering 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
not a moment to comment upon it, before the attorney arrived.

"Well, madam," said the man, as he entered the parlour, "Mr Eggleston
has stayed your own time very patiently: he commissions me now to
enquire if it is convenient to you to quit the premises."

"No, Sir, it is by no means convenient to me; and if Mr Eggleston will
wait 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
particular sum from what must, by and bye, be legally restituted."

"If this is the condition of his courtesy, I will quit the house
without giving him further trouble."

"Just as it suits you, madam. He will be glad to take possession to-
morrow or next day."

"You did well, Sir, to commend his patience! I shall, however, merely
discharge my servants, and settle my accounts, and be ready to make way
for him."

"You will not take it amiss, madam, if I remind you that the account
with 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 may
otherwise myself be distressed for ready money."

"That, madam, is not likely, as it is well known you have a fortune
that was 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 Mr
Eggleston could expect _any_ of this estate!"

"That, madam, is nothing to the purpose; from the moment it is his, he
has 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, "might
perhaps seem strange to me; I will not, therefore, be so much in his
way."

Mr Carn then informed her she might put her seal upon whatever she
meant hereafter to claim or dispute, and took his leave.

Cecilia now shut herself up in her own room, to meditate without
interruption, before she would proceed to any action. She felt much
inclination to send instantly for some lawyer; but when she considered
her peculiar situation, the absence of her husband, the renunciation of
his 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 own opinion could be known, than to involve herself in a lawsuit
she was so little able to superintend.

In this cruel perplexity of her mind and her affairs, her first thought
was to board again with Mrs Bayley; but that was soon given up, for she
felt a repugnance unconquerable to continuing in her native county,
when deprived of her fortune, and cast out of her dwelling.

Her situation, indeed, was singularly unhappy, since, by this
unforeseen vicissitude of fortune, she was suddenly, from being an
object of envy and admiration, sunk into distress, and threatened with
disgrace; from being every where caressed, and by every voice praised,
she blushed to be seen, and expected to be censured; and, from being
generally regarded as an example of happiness, and a model of virtue,
she was now in one moment to appear to the world, an outcast from her
own house, yet received 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, she
could not endure; and to escape from it, one way alone remained, which
was going instantly abroad.

Upon this, therefore, she finally determined: her former objections to
such a step being now wholly, though unpleasantly removed, since she
had neither estate nor affairs to demand her stay, and since all hopes
of concealment were totally at an end. Her marriage, therefore, and its
disgraceful consequences being published to the world, she resolved
without delay to seek the only asylum which was proper for her, in the
protection 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 she
hoped to arrive before the news of her distress reached Delvile, whom
nothing, she was certain, but her own presence, could keep there for a
moment after hearing it.

Thus decided, at length, in her plan, she proceeded to put it in
execution with calmness and intrepidity; comforting herself that the
conveniencies and indulgencies with which she was now parting, would
soon be restored to her, and though not with equal power, with far more
satisfaction. She told her steward her design of going the next morning
to London, bid him pay instantly all her debts, and discharge all her
servants, determining to keep no account open but that with Mr
Eggleston, which he had made so intricate by double and undue demands,
that she thought it most prudent and safe to leave him wholly to
Delvile.

She then packed up all her papers and letters, and ordered her maid to
pack up her clothes.

She next put her own seal upon her cabinets, draws, and many other
things, and employed almost all her servants at once, in making
complete inventories of what every room contained.

She advised Mrs Harrel to send without delay for Mr Arnott, and return
to his house. She had first purposed to carry Henrietta home to her
mother herself; but another scheme for her now occurred, from which she
hoped much future advantage to the amiable and dejected girl.

She knew well, that deep as was at present her despondency, the removal
of all possibility of hope, by her knowledge of Delvile's marriage,
must awaken her before long from the delusive visions of her romantic
fancy; Mr Arnott himself was in a situation exactly similar, and the
knowledge of the same event would probably be productive of the same
effect. When Mrs Harrel, therefore, began to repine at the solitude to
which she was returning, Cecilia proposed to her the society of
Henrietta, which, glad to catch at any thing that would break into her
loneliness, she listened to 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 of
the change of her abode to Mrs Belfield.

Cecilia, who in the known and tried honour of Mr Arnott would
unreluctantly have trusted a sister, was much pleased by this little
arrangement, from which should no good ensue, no evil, at least, was
probable. But she hoped, through the mutual pity their mutual
melancholy might inspire, that their minds, already not dissimilar,
would be softened in favour of each other, and that, in conclusion,
each might be happy in receiving the consolation each could give, and a
union would take place, in which their reciprocal disappointment might,
in time, be nearly forgotten.

There was not, indeed, much promise of such an event in the countenance
of Mr Arnott, when, late at night, he came for his sister, nor in the
unbounded sorrow of Henrietta, when the moment of leave-taking
arrived. Mr Arnott looked half dead with the shock his sister's
intelligence had given him, and Henrietta's heart, torn asunder between
friendship and love, was scarce able to bear a parting, which from
Cecilia, she regarded as eternal, added to the consciousness it was
occasioned by her going to join Delvile for life!

Cecilia, who both read and pitied these conflicting emotions, was
herself extremely hurt by this necessary separation. She tenderly loved
Henrietta, she loved her even the more for the sympathy of their
affections, which called forth the most forcible commiseration,--that
which 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 wish
for you, or yourself to regret."

"I must always regret," cried the sobbing Henrietta, "that I cannot
live with 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,
and nobody 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
will spoil them,--as you have spoilt me,--from being ever happy without
you!"

Cecilia re-iterated her assurances of a most faithful regard, embraced
Mrs Harrel, spoke words of kindness to the drooping Mr Arnott, and then
parted with them all.

Having still many small matters to settle, and neither company nor
appetite, she would eat no supper; but, in passing thro' the hall, in
her way to her own room, she was much surprised to see all her
domestics assembled in a body. She stopt to enquire their intention,
when they eagerly pressed forward, humbly and earnestly entreating to
know why they were discharged? "For no reason in the world," cried
Cecilia, "but because 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 will
serve 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 any
other place!" and "keep _me_, madam, at least!" was even clamorously
urged by each of them.

Cecilia, distressed and flattered at once by their unwillingness to
quit her, received this testimony of gratitude for the kind and liberal
treatment they had received, with the warmest thanks both for their
services and fidelity, and assured them that when again she was
settled, all those who should be yet unprovided with places, should be
preferred in 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 man
heard it with great delight, and promised to re-double his diligence to
deserve her favour. She then communicated the same news to her maid,
who had also resided with her some years, and by whom with the same, or
more pleasure it was heard.

These and other regulations employed her almost all night; yet late and
fatigued as she went to bed, she could not close her eyes: fearful
something was left undone, she robbed herself of the short time she had
allowed to rest, by incessant meditation upon what yet remained to be
executed. She could recollect, however, one only thing that had escaped
her vigilance, which was acquainting the pew-opener, and two or three
other poor women who had weekly pensions from her, that they must, at
least for the present, depend no longer upon her assistance.

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