Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress — Volume 1Burney, Fanny
General
Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress — Volume 1
Burney, Fanny
England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Love stories; Young women -- Fiction
Reluctantly she complied; she quitted her early companions, the friend
she most revered, and the spot which contained the relicks of all she
had yet lived to lament; and, accompanied by one of her guardians, and
attended by two servants, she began her journey from Bury to London.
Mr Harrel, this gentleman, though in the prime of his life, though gay,
fashionable and splendid, had been appointed by her uncle to be one of
her trustees; a choice which had for object the peculiar gratification
of his niece, whose most favourite young friend Mr Harrel had married,
and in whose house he therefore knew she would most wish to live.
Whatever good-nature could dictate or politeness suggest to dispel
her melancholy, Mr Harrel failed not to urge; and Cecilia, in whose
disposition sweetness was tempered with dignity, and gentleness with
fortitude, suffered not his kind offices to seem ineffectual; she kissed
her hand at the last glimpse a friendly hill afforded of her native
town, and made an effort to forget the regret with which she lost sight
of it. She revived her spirits by plans of future happiness, dwelt
upon the delight with which she should meet her young friend, and, by
accepting his consolation, amply rewarded his trouble.
Her serenity, however, had yet another, though milder trial to undergo,
since another friend was yet to be met, and another farewell was yet to
be taken.
At the distance of seven miles from Bury resided Mr Monckton, the
richest and most powerful man in that neighbourhood, at whose house
Cecilia and her guardian were invited to breakfast in their journey.
Mr Monckton, who was the younger son of a noble family, was a man of
parts, information and sagacity; to great native strength of mind he
added a penetrating knowledge of the world, and to faculties the most
skilful of investigating the character of every other, a dissimulation
the most profound in concealing his own. In the bloom of his youth,
impatient for wealth and ambitious of power, he had tied himself to a
rich dowager of quality, whose age, though sixty-seven, was but among
the smaller species of her evil properties, her disposition being
far more repulsive than her wrinkles. An inequality of years so
considerable, had led him to expect that the fortune he had thus
acquired, would speedily be released from the burthen with which it was
at present incumbered; but his expectations proved as vain as they were
mercenary, and his lady was not more the dupe of his protestations than
he was himself of his own purposes. Ten years he had been married to
her, yet her health was good, and her faculties were unimpaired; eagerly
he had watched for her dissolution, yet his eagerness had injured no
health but his own! So short-sighted is selfish cunning, that in aiming
no further than at the gratification of the present moment, it obscures
the evils of the future, while it impedes the perception of integrity
and honour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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