“Pardon my indelicacy, my dear; delicacy is a good thing, but truth a better. I have seen the happiness of many young women sacrificed by such false delicacy, and by the fear of giving a moment’s present pain, which it is sometimes the duty of a true friend to give.” “Certainly, certainly, mamma, only not necessary now; and I am so sorry you have said all this to poor dear Helen.” “If you have said nothing to her, Cecilia, I acknowledge I have said too much.” “I said--I did nothing,” cried Lady Cecilia; “I built no castles--never built a regular castle in my life; never had a regular plan in my existence; never mentioned his name, except about another person--” An appealing look to Helen was however _protested_. “To the best of my recollection, at least,” Lady Cecilia immediately added. “Helen seems to be blushing for your want of recollection, Cecilia.” “I am sure I do not know why you blush, Helen. I am certain I never did say a word distinctly.” “Not _distinctly_ certainly,” said Helen in a low voice. “It was my fault if I understood----” “Always true, you are,” said Lady Davenant. “I protest I said nothing but the truth,” cried Lady Cecilia hastily. “But not the whole truth, Cecilia,” said her mother. “I did, upon my word, mamma,” persisted Lady Cecilia, repeating “upon my word.” “Upon your word, Cecilia! that is either a vulgar expletive or a most serious asseveration.” She spoke with a grave tone, and with her severe look, and Helen dared not raise her eyes; Lady Cecilia now coloured deeply. “Shame! Nature’s hasty conscience,” said Lady Davenant. “Heaven preserve it!” “Oh, mother!” cried Lady Cecilia, laying her hand on her mother’s, “surely you do not think seriously--surely you are not angry--I cannot bear to see you displeased,” said she, looking up imploringly in her mother’s face, and softly, urgently pressing her hand. No pressure was returned; that hand was slowly and with austere composure withdrawn, and her mother walked away down the corridor to her own room. Lady Cecilia stood still, and the tears came into her eyes. “My dear friend, I am exceedingly sorry,” said Helen. She could not believe that Cecilia meant to say what was not true, yet she felt that she had been to blame in not telling all, and her mother in saying too much.