A VISIT.
One week only, however, had yet tried the perseverance
of Cecilia, when, while she was working with Mrs Charlton
in her dressing-room, her maid hastily entered it,
and with a smile that seemed announcing welcome news,
said, “Lord, ma’am, here’s Fidel!”
and, at the same moment, she was followed by the dog,
who jumpt upon Cecilia in a transport of delight.
“Good heaven,” cried she, all amazement,
“who has brought him? whence does he come?”
“A country man brought him, ma’am; but
he only put him in, and would not stay a minute.”
“But whom did he enquire for?—who
saw him?—what did he say?”
“He saw Ralph, ma’am.”
Ralph, then, was instantly called: and these
questions being repeated, he said, “Ma’am,
it was a man I never saw before; but he only bid me
take care to deliver the dog into your own hands, and
said you would have a letter about him soon, and then
went away: I wanted him to stay till I came up
stairs, but he was off at once.”
Cecilia, quite confounded by this account, could make
neither comment nor answer; but, as soon as the servants
had left the room, Mrs Charlton entreated to know
to whom the dog had belonged, convinced by her extreme
agitation, that something interesting and uncommon
must relate to him.
This was no time for disguise; astonishment and confusion
bereft Cecilia of all power to attempt it; and, after
a very few evasions, she briefly communicated her
situation with respect to Delvile, his leaving her,
his motives, and his mother’s evident concurrence:
for these were all so connected with her knowledge
of Fidel, that she led to them unavoidably in telling
what she knew of him.
Very little penetration was requisite, to gather from
her manner all that was united in her narrative of
her own feelings and disappointment in the course
of this affair: and Mrs Charlton, who had hitherto
believed the whole world at her disposal, and that
she continued single from no reason but her own difficulty
of choice, was utterly amazed to find that any man
existed who could withstand the united allurements
of so much beauty, sweetness, and fortune. She
felt herself sometimes inclined to hate, and at other
times to pity him; yet concluded that her own extreme
coldness was the real cause of his flight, and warmly
blamed a reserve which had thus ruined her happiness.
Cecilia was in the extremest perplexity and distress
to conjecture the meaning of so unaccountable a present,
and so strange a message. Delvile, she knew,
had desired the dog might follow him to Bristol; his
mother, always pleased to oblige him, would now less
than ever neglect any opportunity; she could not,
therefore, doubt that she had sent or taken him thither,
and thence, according to all appearances, he must
now come. But was it likely Delvile would take
such a liberty? Was it probable, when so lately
he had almost exhorted her to forget him, he would
even wish to present her with such a remembrance of
himself? And what was the letter she was bid to
expect? Whence and from what was it to come?
