“No, certainly,” she answered, “he had all the provocation that ill-breeding could give him.” “And do you, madam,” cried he, with much surprize, “judge of this matter with such severity?” “No, not with severity, simply with candour.” “With candour? alas, then, poor Sir Robert! Severity were not half so bad a sign for him!” A servant now came in, to acquaint Cecilia that Mrs Delvile waited breakfast for her. This summons was immediately followed by the re-entrance of Mr Delvile, who, taking her hand, said he would himself present her to his lady, and with much graciousness assured her of a kind reception. The ceremonies preceding this interview, added to the character she had already heard of Mrs Delvile, made Cecilia heartily wish it over; but, assuming all the courage in her power, she determined to support herself with a spirit that should struggle against the ostentatious superiority she was prepared to expect. She found her seated upon a sofa, from which, however, she arose at her approach; but the moment Cecilia beheld her, all the unfavourable impressions with which she came into her presence immediately vanished, and that respect which the formalities of her introduction had failed to inspire, her air, figure, and countenance instantaneously excited. She was not more than fifty years of age; her complection, though faded, kept the traces of its former loveliness, her eyes, though they had lost their youthful fire, retained a lustre that evinced their primeval brilliancy, and the fine symmetry of her features, still uninjured by the siege of time, not only indicated the perfection of her juvenile beauty, but still laid claim to admiration in every beholder. Her carriage was lofty and commanding; but the dignity to which high birth and conscious superiority gave rise, was so judiciously regulated by good sense, and so happily blended with politeness, that though the world at large envied or hated her, the few for whom she had herself any regard, she was infallibly certain to captivate. The surprise and admiration with which Cecilia at the first glance was struck proved reciprocal: Mrs Delvile, though prepared for youth and beauty, expected not to see a countenance so intelligent, nor manners so well formed as those of Cecilia: thus mutually astonished and mutually pleased, their first salutations were accompanied by looks so flattering to both, that each saw in the other, an immediate prepossession in her favour, and from the moment that they met, they seemed instinctively impelled to admire. “I have promised Miss Beverley, madam,” said Mr Delvile to his lady, “that you would give her a kind reception; and I need not remind you that my promises are always held sacred.” “But I hope you have not also promised,” cried she, with quickness, “that I should give _you_ a kind reception, for I feel at this very moment extremely inclined to quarrel with you.” “Why so, madam?”