This, indeed, was a stroke to Cecilia unequalled by any she had met, and more cruel than any she could have in reserve. At the proposal of parting with her uncle's fortune, which, desirable as it was, had as yet been only productive to her of misery, her heart, disinterested, and wholly careless of money, was prompt to accede to the condition; but at the mention of her paternal fortune, that fortune, of which, now, not the smallest vestige remained, horror seized all her faculties! she turned pale, she trembled, she involuntarily drew back her hand, and betrayed, by speechless agitation, the sudden agonies of her soul! Delvile, struck by this evident dismay, instantly concluded his plan had disgusted her. He waited some minutes in anxious expectation of an answer, but finding her silence continued while her emotion encreased, the deepest crimson dyed his face, and unable to check his chagrin, though not daring to confess his disappointment, he suddenly quitted her, and walked, in much disorder, about the room. But soon recovering some composure, from the assistance of pride, “Pardon, madam,” he said, “a trial such as no man can be vindicated in making. I have indulged a romantic whim, which your better judgment disapproves, and I receive but the mortification my presumption deserved.” “You know not then,” said Cecilia, in a faint voice, “my inability to comply?” “Your ability or inability, I presume, are elective?” “Oh no!--my power is lost--my fortune itself is gone!” “Impossible! utterly impossible!” cried he with vehemence. “Oh that it were!--your father knows it but too well.” “My father!” “Did he, then, never hint it to you?” “Oh distraction!” cried Delvile, “what horrible confirmation is coming!” and again he walked away, as if wanting courage to hear her. Cecilia was too much shocked to force upon him her explanation; but presently returning to her, he said, “_you_, only, could have made this credible!” “Had you, then, actually heard it?” “Oh I had heard it as the most infamous of falsehoods! my heart swelled with indignation at so villainous a calumny, and had it not come from my father, my resentment at it had been inveterate!” “Alas!” cried Cecilia, “the fact is undeniable! yet the circumstances you may have heard with it, are I doubt not exaggerated.” “Exaggerated indeed!” he answered; “I was told you had been surprised concealed with Belfield in a back room, I was told that your parental fortune was totally exhausted, and that during your minority you had been a dealer with Jews!--I was told all this by my father; you may believe I had else not easily been made hear it!” “Yet thus far,” said she, “he told you but what is true; though--” “True!” interrupted Delvile, with a start almost frantic. “Oh never, then, was truth so scandalously wronged!--I denied the whole charge!-I disbelieved every syllable!--I pledged my own honour to prove every assertion false!”