Lady Honoria and Cecilia would then have risen, but neither Dr Lyster nor Delvile would permit them to go; and a conversation tolerably lively took place, after which, the party in general separating, the doctor accompanied Delvile to his own apartment. Cecilia then went up stairs, where she most impatiently waited some intelligence; none, however, arriving, in about half an hour she returned to the parlour; she found it empty, but was soon joined by Lady Honoria and Lord Ernolf. Lady Honoria, happy in having something going forward, and not much concerning herself whether it were good or evil, was as eager to communicate what she had gathered, as Cecilia was to hear it. “Well, my dear,” she cried, “so I don't find at last but that all this prodigious illness will be laid to your account.” “To my account?” cried Cecilia, “how is that possible?” “Why this tender chicken caught cold in the storm last week, and not being put to bed by its mama, and nursed with white-wine whey, the poor thing has got a fever.” “He is a fine young man,” said Lord Ernolf; “I should be sorry any harm happened to him.” “He was a fine young man, my lord,” cried Lady Honoria, “but he is grown intolerably stupid lately; however, it's all the fault of his father and mother. Was ever any thing half so ridiculous as their behaviour this morning? it was with the utmost difficulty I forbore laughing in their faces; and really, I believe if I was to meet with such an unfortunate accident with Mr Delvile, it would turn him to marble at once! indeed he is little better now, but such an affront as that would never let him move from the spot where he received it.” “I forgive him, however,” returned Lord Ernolf, “for his anxiety about his son, since he is the last of so ancient a family.” “That is his great misfortune, my lord,” answered Lady Honoria, “because it is the very reason they make such a puppet of him. If there were but a few more little masters to dandle and fondle, I'll answer for it this precious Mortimer would soon be left to himself; and then, really, I believe he would be a good tolerable sort of young man. Don't you think he would, Miss Beverley?” “O yes!” said Cecilia, “I believe--I think so!” “Nay, nay, I did not ask if you thought him tolerable now, so no need to be frightened.” Here they were interrupted by the entrance of Dr Lyster. “Well, Sir,” cried Lady Honoria, “and when am I to go into mourning for my cousin Mortimer?” “Why very soon,” answered he, “unless you take better care of him. He has confessed to me that after being out in the storm last Wednesday, he sat in his wet cloaths all the evening.” “Dear,” cried Lady Honoria, “and what would that do to him? I have no notion of a man's always wanting a cambric handkerchief about his throat.”