“Is it long since you have seen him?” “It is two months,” answered she, with yet more hesitation, “since I was at Delvile Castle.” “O, but,” cried Morrice, “did not you see him while he was in Suffolk? I believe, indeed, he is there now, for it was only yesterday I heard of his coming down, by a gentleman who called upon Lady Margaret, and told us he had seen a stranger, a day or two ago, at Mrs Charlton's door, and when he asked who he was, they told him his name was Delvile, and said he was on a visit at Mr Biddulph's.” Cecilia was quite confounded by this speech; to have it known that Delvile had visited her, was in itself alarming, but to have her own equivocation thus glaringly exposed, was infinitely more dangerous. The just suspicions to which it must give rise filled her with dread, and the palpable evasion in which she had been discovered, overwhelmed, her with confusion. “So you had forgotten,” said Mr Gosport, looking at her with much archness, “that you had seen him within the two months? but no wonder; for where is the lady who having so many admirers, can be at the trouble to remember which of them she saw last? or who, being so accustomed to adulation, can hold it worth while to enquire whence it comes? A thousand Mr Delviles are to Miss Beverley but as one; used from them all to the same tale, she regards them not individually as lovers, but collectively as men; and to gather, even from herself, which she is most inclined to favour, she must probably desire, like Portia in the Merchant of Venice, that their names may be run over one by one, before she can distinctly tell which is which.” The gallant gaiety of this speech was some relief to Cecilia, who was beginning a laughing reply, when Morrice called out, “That man looks as if he was upon the scout.” And, raising her eyes, she perceived a man on horseback, who, though much muffled up, his hat flapped, and a handkerchief held to his mouth and chin, she instantly, by his air and figure, recognized to be Delvile. In much consternation at this sight, she forgot what she meant to say, and dropping her eyes, walked silently on. Mr Gosport, attentive to her motions, looked from her to the horseman, and after a short examination, said, “I think I have seen that man before; have you, Miss Beverley?” “Me?--no,”--answered she, “I believe not,--I hardly indeed, see him now.” “I have, I am pretty sure,” said Morrice; “and if I could see his face, I dare say I should recollect him.” “He seems very willing to know if he can recollect any of us,” said Mr Gosport, “and, if I am not mistaken, he sees much better than he is seen.” He was now come up to them, and though a glance sufficed to discover the object of his search, the sight of the party with which she was surrounded made him not dare stop or speak to her, and therefore, clapping spurs to his horse, he galloped past them. “See,” cried Morrice, looking after him, “how he turns round to examine us! I wonder who he is.”