"Prosperity changes us all, Miss de Clare. I wish you a very good
morning;" and I turned away, and crossed the hall to the door.
As I went out I could not help looking back, and I perceived that
Cecilia's handkerchief was held to her eyes, as she slowly mounted the
stairs. I walked home to the Piazza in no very pleasant humour. I was
angry and disgusted at the coolness of my reception. I thought myself ill
used, and treated with ingratitude. "So much for the world," said I, as
I sat down in my apartment, and spun my hat on the table. "She has been
out two seasons, and is no longer the same person. Yet how lovely she has
grown! But why this change--and why was Harcourt there? Could he have
prejudiced them against me? Very possibly." While these ideas were
running in my mind, and I was making comparisons between Cecilia de
Clare and Susannah Temple--not much in favour of the former--and looking
forward prospectively to the meeting with my father, the doubts as to my
reception in society colouring everything with the most sombre tints, the
door opened, and in walked Harcourt, announced by the waiter.
"A chair for Mr Harcourt," said I to the waiter, with formality.
"Newland," said Harcourt, "I come for two reasons: in the first place,
I am commissioned by the ladies, to assure you--"
"I beg your pardon, Mr Harcourt, for interrupting you, but I require no
ambassador from the ladies in question. They may make you their
confidant if they please, but I am not at all inclined to do the same.
Explanation, after what I witnessed and felt this morning, is quite
unnecessary. I surrender all claims upon either Lady de Clare or her
daughter, if I ever was so foolhardy as to imagine that I had any. The
first reason of your visit it is therefore useless to proceed with. May
I ask the other reason which has procured me this honour?"
"I hardly know, Mr Newland," replied Harcourt, colouring deeply,
"whether, after what you have now said, I ought to proceed with the
second--it related to myself."
"I am all attention, Mr Harcourt," replied I, bowing politely.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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