Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress — Volume 1Burney, Fanny
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Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress — Volume 1
Burney, Fanny
England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Love stories; Young women -- Fiction
“I have received information, from authority which I cannot doubt,
that the indiscretion of certain of your admirers last Saturday at the
Opera-house occasioned a disturbance which to a young woman of delicacy
I should imagine must be very alarming: now as I consider myself
concerned in your fame and welfare from regarding you as my ward,
I think it is incumbent upon me to make enquiries into such of your
affairs as become public; for I should feel in some measure disgraced
myself, should it appear to the world, while you are under my
guardianship, that there was any want of propriety in the direction of
your conduct.”
Cecilia, not much flattered by this address, gravely answered that she
fancied the affair had been misrepresented to him.
“I am not much addicted,” he replied, “to give ear to any thing lightly;
you must therefore permit me to enquire into the merits of the cause,
and then to draw my own inferences. And let me, at the same time, assure
you there is no other young lady who has any right to expect such an
attention from me. I must begin by begging you to inform me upon what
grounds the two gentlemen in question, for such, by courtesy, I presume
they are called, thought themselves entitled publicly to dispute your
favour?”
“My favour, Sir!” cried Cecilia, much amazed.
“My dear,” said he, with a complacency meant to give her courage, “I
know the question is difficult for a young lady to answer; but be not
abashed, I should be sorry to distress you, and mean to the utmost of my
power to save your blushes. Do not, therefore, fear me; consider me
as your guardian, and assure yourself I am perfectly well disposed
to consider you as my ward. Acquaint me, then, freely, what are the
pretensions of these gentlemen?”
“To me, Sir, they have, I believe, no pretensions at all.”
“I see you are shy,” returned he, with encreasing gentleness, “I see
you cannot be easy with me; and when I consider how little you are
accustomed to me, I do not wonder. But pray take courage; I think it
necessary to inform myself of your affairs, and therefore I beg you will
speak to me with freedom.”
Cecilia, more and more mortified by this humiliating condescension,
again assured him he had been misinformed, and was again, though
discredited, praised for her modesty, when, to her great relief, they
were interrupted by the entrance of her friend the _white domino_.
“Mortimer,” said Mr Delvile, “I understand you have already had the
pleasure of seeing this young lady?”
“Yes, Sir,” he answered, “I have more than once had that happiness, but
I have never had the honour of being introduced to her.”
“Miss Beverley, then,” said the father, “I must present to you Mr
Mortimer Delvile, my son; and, Mortimer, in Miss Beverley I desire you
will remember that you respect a ward of your father's.”
“I will not, Sir,” answered he, “forget an injunction my own
inclinations had already out-run.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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