“We have a reason now to give General Clarendon--a true good reason, for what we have done.” “Reason!” cried Lady Cecilia, “what can you mean?” “That it was to prevent danger to your mother, and now she is safe; and if you tell him directly, he will see this was, really so.” “That is true; but I cannot--wait till to-morrow, at least.” “Every day will make it more difficult. The deception will be greater, and less pardonable. If we delay, it will become deliberate falsehood, a sort of conspiracy between us,” said Helen. “Conspiracy! Oh, Helen, do not use such a shocking word, when it is really nothing at all.” “Then why not tell it?” urged Helen. “Because, though it is nothing at all in reality, yet Clarendon would think it dreadful--though I have done nothing really wrong.” “So I say--so I know,” cried Helen; “therefore----” “Therefore let me take my own time,” said Cecilia. “How can you urge me so, hurrying me so terribly, and when I am but just recovered from one misery, and when you had made me so happy, and when I was thanking you with all my heart.” Helen was much moved, but answered as steadily as she could. “It seems cruel, but indeed I am not cruel.” “When you had raised me up,” continued Cecilia, “to dash me down again, and leave me worse than ever!” “Not worse--no, surely not worse, when your mother is safe.” “Yes, safe, thank you--but oh, Helen, have you no feeling for your own Cecilia?” “The greatest,” answered Helen; and her tears said the rest. “You, Helen! I never could have thought you would have urged me so!” “O Cecilia! if you knew the pain it was to me to make you unhappy again,--but I assure you it is for your own sake. Dearest Cecilia, let me tell you all that General Clarendon said about it, and then you will know my reasons.” She repeated as quickly as she could, all that had passed between her and the general, and when she came to this declaration that, if Cecilia had told him plainly the fact before, he would have married with perfect confidence, and, as he believed, with increased esteem and love: Cecilia started up from the sofa on which she had thrown herself, and exclaimed, “O that I had but known this at the time, and I _would_ have told him.” “It is still time,” said Helen. “Time now?--impossible. His look this morning. Oh! that look!” “But what is one look, my dear Cecilia, compared with a whole life of confidence and happiness?” “A life of happiness! never, never for me; in that way at least, never.” “In that way and no other, Cecilia, believe me. I am certain you never could endure to go on concealing this, living with him you love so, yet deceiving him.”