“Nothing,” cried she, recovering her presence of mind, “but to beg you will by no means, upon my account, quit your country and your friends, since another asylum can be found for myself, and since I would much sooner part from Mrs Delvile, greatly and sincerely as I reverence her, than be instrumental to robbing her, even for a month, of her son.” “Generous and humane is the consideration,” cried he; “but who half so generous, so humane as Miss Beverley? so soft to all others, so noble in herself? Can my mother have a wish, when I leave her with you? No; she is sensible of your worth, she adores you, almost as I adore you myself! you are now under her protection, you seem, indeed, born for each other; let me not, then, deprive her of so honourable a charge--Oh, why must he, who sees in such colours the excellencies of both, who admires with such fervour the perfections you unite, be torn with this violence from the objects he reveres, even though half his life he would sacrifice, to spend in their society what remained!”-- “Well, then, Sir,” said Cecilia, who now felt her courage decline, and the softness of sorrow steal fast upon her spirits, “if you will not give up your scheme, let me no longer detain you.” “Will you not wish me a good journey?” “Yes,--very sincerely.” “And will you pardon the unguarded errors which have offended you?” “I will think of them, Sir, no more.” “Farewell, then, most amiable of women, and may every blessing you deserve light on your head! I leave to you my mother, certain of your sympathetic affection for a character so resembling your own. When you, madam, leave her, may the happy successor in your favour--” He paused, his voice faultered, Cecilia, too, turned away from him, and, uttering a deep sigh, he caught her hand, and pressing it to his lips, exclaimed, “O great be your felicity, in whatever way you receive it!--pure as your virtues, and warm as your benevolence!--Oh too lovely Miss Beverley!--why, why must I quit you!” Cecilia, though she trusted not her voice to reprove him, forced away her hand, and then, in the utmost perturbation, he rushed out of the room. This scene for Cecilia, was the most unfortunate that could have happened; the gentleness of Delvile was alone sufficient to melt her, since her pride had no subsistence when not fed by his own; and while his mildness had blunted her displeasure, his anguish had penetrated her heart. Lost in thought and in sadness, she continued fixed to her seat; and looking at the door through which he had passed, as if, with himself, he had shut out all for which she existed.