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
“Scandalous!” he exclaimed; “why, this is no better than being a
housebreaker! Pray give orders never to admit him again. Three guineas!
I never heard so impudent a thing in my life! Indeed, Miss Beverley, you
must be more discreet in future, you will else be ruined before you know
where you are.”
“Thus it is,” said Cecilia, half smiling, “that we can all lecture one
another! to-day you recommend economy to me; yesterday I with difficulty
forbore recommending it to you.”
“Nay,” answered he, “that was quite another matter; expence incurred in
the common way of a man's living is quite another thing to an extortion
of this sort.”
“It is another thing indeed,” said she, “but I know not that it is
therefore a better.”
Mr Harrel made no answer: and Cecilia, privately moralizing upon the
different estimates of expence and economy made by the dissipated and
the charitable, soon retired to her own apartment, determined firmly to
adhere to her lately adopted plan, and hoping, by the assistance of her
new and very singular monitor, to extend her practice of doing good, by
enlarging her knowledge of distress.
Objects are, however, never wanting for the exercise of benevolence;
report soon published her liberality, and those who wished to believe
it, failed not to enquire into its truth. She was soon at the head of a
little band of pensioners, and, never satisfied with the generosity of
her donations, found in a very short time that the common allowance of
her guardians was scarce adequate to the calls of her munificence.
And thus, in acts of goodness and charity, passed undisturbed another
week of the life of Cecilia: but when the fervour of self-approbation
lost its novelty, the pleasure with which her new plan was begun first
subsided into tranquillity, and then sunk into languor. To a heart
formed for friendship and affection the charms of solitude are very
short-lived; and though she had sickened of the turbulence of perpetual
company, she now wearied of passing all her time by herself, and sighed
for the comfort of society and the relief of communication. But she saw
with astonishment the difficulty with which this was to be obtained: the
endless succession of diversions, the continual rotation of assemblies,
the numerousness of splendid engagements, of which, while every one
complained, every one was proud to boast, so effectually impeded private
meetings and friendly intercourse, that, whichever way she turned
herself, all commerce seemed impracticable, but such as either led to
dissipation, or accidentally flowed from it.
Yet, finding the error into which her ardour of reformation had hurried
her, and that a rigid seclusion from company was productive of a
lassitude as little favourable to active virtue as dissipation itself,
she resolved to soften her plan, and by mingling amusement with
benevolence, to try, at least, to approach that golden mean, which, like
the philosopher's stone, always eludes our grasp, yet always invites our
wishes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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