They had gone but a few steps, before there came a violent shower of hail; and the wind, which was very high, being immediately in their faces, Cecilia was so pelted and incommoded, that she was frequently obliged to stop, in defiance of her utmost efforts to force herself forward. Delvile then approaching her, proposed that she should again stand under a tree, as the thunder and lightning for the present seemed over, and wait there till the fury of the hail was past; and Cecilia, though never before so little disposed to oblige him, was so much distressed by the violence of the wind and hail, that she was forced to comply. Every instant now seemed an age; yet neither hail nor wind abated; mean time they were both silent, and both, though with different feelings, equally comfortless. Delvile, however, who took care to place himself on the side whence the wind blew hardest, perceived, in spite of his endeavours to save her, some hail-stones lodged upon her thin summer cloak; he then took off his own hat, and, though he ventured not to let it touch her, held it in such a manner as to shelter her better. Cecilia now could no longer be either silent or unmoved, but turning to him with much emotion, said, “Why will you do this, Mr Delvile?” “What would I not do,” answered he, “to obtain forgiveness from Miss Beverley?” “Well, well,--pray put on your hat.” “Do you command it?” “No, certainly!--but I wish it.” “Ah!” cried he, instantly putting it on, “whose are the commands that would have half the weight with your wishes?” And then, after another pause, he added, “do you forgive me?” Cecilia, ashamed of the cause of their dissension, and softened by the seriousness of his manner, answered very readily, “yes, yes,--why will you make me remember such nonsense?” “All sweetness,” cried he warmly, and snatching her hand, “is Miss Beverley!--O that I had power--that it were not utterly impossible--that the cruelty of my situation--” “I find,” cried she, greatly agitated, and forcibly drawing away her hand, “you will teach me, for another time, the folly of fearing bad weather!” And she hurried from beneath the tree; and Delvile perceiving one of the servants approach with an umbrella, went forward to take it from him, and directed him to hasten instantly to Lady Honoria. Then returning to Cecilia, he would have held it over her head, but with an air of displeasure, she took it into her own hand. “Will you not let me carry it for you?” he cried. “No, Sir, there is not any occasion.” They then proceeded silently on.