Mr Delvile's reception of Cecilia was formal and cold: yet, as she now appeared publicly in the character of his son's wife, the best apartment in his house had been prepared for her use, his domestics were instructed to wait upon her with the utmost respect, and Lady Honoria Pemberton, who was accidentally in town, offered from curiosity, what Mr Delvile accepted from parade, to be herself in St James's-square, in order to do honour to his daughter-in-law's first entrance. When Cecilia was a little recovered from the shock of the first interview, and the fatigue of her removal, the anxious Mortimer would instantly have had her conveyed to her own apartment; but, willing to exert herself, and hoping to oblige Mr Delvile, she declared she was well able to remain some time longer in the drawing-room. “My good friends,” said Dr Lyster, “in the course of my long practice, I have found it impossible to study the human frame, without a little studying the human mind; and from all that I have yet been able to make out, either by observation, reflection, or comparison, it appears to me at this moment, that Mr Mortimer Delvile has got the best wife, and that you, Sir, have here the most faultless daughter-in-law, that any husband or any father in the three kingdoms belonging to his Majesty can either have or desire.” Cecilia smiled; Mortimer looked his delighted concurrence; Mr Delvile forced himself to make a stiff inclination of the head; and Lady Honoria gaily exclaimed, “Dr Lyster, when you say the _best_ and the most _faultless_, you should always add the rest of the company excepted.” “Upon my word,” cried the Doctor, “I beg your ladyship's pardon; but there is a certain unguarded warmth comes across a man now and then, that drives _etiquette_ out of his head, and makes him speak truth before he well knows where he is.” “O terrible!” cried she, “this is sinking deeper and deeper. I had hoped the town air would have taught you better things; but I find you have visited at Delvile Castle till you are fit for no other place.” “Whoever, Lady Honoria,” said Mr Delvile, much offended, “is fit for Delvile Castle, must be fit for every other place; though every other place may by no means be fit for him.” “O yes, Sir,” cried she, giddily, “every possible place will be fit for him, if he can once bear with that. Don't you think so, Dr Lyster?” “Why, when a man has the honour to see your ladyship,” answered he, good-humouredly, “he is apt to think too much of the person, to care about the place.” “Come, I begin to have some hopes of you,” cried she, “for I see, for a Doctor, you have really a very pretty notion of a compliment: only you have one great fault still; you look the whole time as if you said it for a joke.”