“I met her at the street door. But tell me, is not her bill a just one?” “I cannot say; I have never had time to look at it.” “But you know who the woman is, and that her husband worked for you, and therefore that in all probability it is right,--do you not?” “Yes, yes, I know who the woman is well enough; she has taken care of that, for she has pestered me every day these nine months.” Cecilia was struck dumb by this speech: hitherto she had supposed that the dissipation of his life kept him ignorant of his own injustice; but when she found he was so well informed of it, yet, with such total indifference, could suffer a poor woman to claim a just debt every day for nine months together, she was shocked and astonished beyond measure. They were both some time silent, and then Mr Harrel, yawning and stretching out his arms, indolently asked, “Pray, why does not the man come himself?” “Did I not tell you,” answered Cecilia, staring at so absent a question, “that he was very ill, and unable even to work?” “Well, when he is better,” added he, moving towards the door, “he may call, and I will talk to him.” Cecilia, all amazement at this unfeeling behaviour, turned involuntarily to Mr Arnott, with a countenance that appealed for his assistance; but Mr Arnott hung his head, ashamed to meet her eyes, and abruptly left the room. Meantime Mr Harrel, half-turning back, though without looking Cecilia in the face, carelessly said, “Well, won't you come?” “No, sir,” answered she, coldly. He then returned to the library, leaving her equally displeased, surprised, and disconcerted at the conversation which had just passed between them. “Good heaven,” cried she to herself, “what strange, what cruel insensibility! to suffer a wretched family to starve, from an obstinate determination to assert that they can live! to distress the poor by retaining the recompense for which alone they labour, and which at last they must have, merely from indolence, forgetfulness, or insolence! Oh how little did my uncle know, how little did I imagine to what a guardian I was entrusted!” She now felt ashamed even to return to the poor woman, though she resolved to do all in her power to soften her disappointment and relieve her distress. But before she had quitted the room one of the servants came to tell her that his master begged the honor of her company up stairs. “Perhaps he relents!” thought she; and pleased with the hope, readily obeyed the summons. She found him, his lady, Sir Robert Floyer, and two other gentlemen, all earnestly engaged in an argument over a large table, which was covered with plans and elevations of small buildings. Mr Harrel immediately addressed her with an air of vivacity, and said, “You are very good for coming; we can settle nothing without your advice: pray look at these different plans for our theatre, and tell us which is the best.”