Mrs Delvile then came back, and holding out her hand, while her eyes glistened with tears, said, “To part from you thus frigidly, while my heart so warmly admires you, is almost more than I can endure. Oh gentlest Cecilia! condemn not a mother who is impelled to this severity, who performing what she holds to be her duty, thinks the office her bitterest misfortune, who forsees in the rage of her husband, and the resistance of her son, all the misery of domestic contention, and who can only secure the honour of her family by destroying its peace!--You will not, then, give me your hand?--” Cecilia, who had affected not to see that she waited for it, now coldly put it out, distantly [courtseying], and seeking to preserve her steadiness by avoiding to speak. Mrs Delvile took it, and as she repeated her adieu, affectionately pressed it to her lips; Cecilia, starting, and breathing short, from encreasing yet smothered agitation, called out “Why, why this condescension?--pray,--I entreat you, madam!--” “Heaven bless you, my love!” said Mrs Delvile, dropping a tear upon the hand she still held, “heaven bless you, and restore the tranquillity you so nobly deserve!” “Ah madam!” cried Cecilia, vainly striving to repress any longer the tears which now forced their way down her cheeks, “why will you break my heart with this kindness! why will you still compel me to love!--when now I almost wish to hate you!”-- “No, hate me not,” said Mrs Delvile, kissing from her cheeks the tears that watered them, “hate me not, sweetest Cecilia, though in wounding your gentle bosom, I am almost detestable to myself. Even the cruel scene which awaits me with my son will not more deeply afflict me. But adieu,--I must now prepare for him!” She then left the room: but Cecilia, whose pride had no power to resist this tenderness, ran hastily after her, saying “Shall I not see you again, madam?” “You shall yourself decide,” answered she; “if my coming will not give you more pain than pleasure, I will wait upon you whenever you please.” Cecilia sighed and paused; she knew not what to desire, yet rather wished any thing to be done, than quietly to sit down to uninterrupted reflection. “Shall I postpone quitting this place,” continued Mrs Delvile, “till to-morrow morning, and will you admit me this afternoon, should I call upon you again?” “I should be sorry,” said she, still hesitating, “to detain you,”-- “You will rejoice me,” cried Mrs Delvile, “by bearing me in your sight.” And she then went into her carriage.