Lady Davenant paused, and after some minutes of reflection said, “I confess, however, that I have not reason to be quite satisfied with myself as a mother; I did not attend sufficiently to Cecilia’s early education: engrossed with politics, I left her too much to governesses, at one period to a very bad one. I have done what I can to remedy this, and you have done more perhaps; but I much fear that the early neglect can never be completely repaired; she is, however, married to a man of sense, and when I go to Russia I shall think with satisfaction that I leave you with her.” After expressing how deeply she had been interested in all that she had heard, and how grateful she felt for the confidence reposed in her, Helen said she could not help wishing that Cecilia knew all that had been just told her of Lady Davenant’s history. If Cecilia could but know all the tenderness of her mother’s heart, how much less would she fear, how much more would she love her! “It would answer no purpose,” replied Lady Davenant; “there are persons with intrinsic differences of character, who, explain as you will, can never understand one another beyond a certain point. Nature and art forbid--no spectacles you can furnish will remedy certain defects of vision. Cecilia sees as much as she can ever see of my character, and I see, in the best light, the whole of hers. So Helen, my dear, take the advice of a Scotch proverb--proverbs are vulgar, because they usually contain common sense--‘Let well alone.’” “You are really a very good little friend,” added she, “but keep my personal narrative for your own use.” CHAPTER IX. It was late before they reached home, and Helen dressed as fast as possible, for the general’s punctual habits required that all should assemble in the drawing-room five minutes at least before dinner. She was coming down the private turret staircase, which led from the family apartments to the great hall, when, just at the turn, and in the most awkward way possible, she met a gentleman, a stranger, where never stranger had been seen by her before, running up full speed, so that they had but barely space and time to clear out of each other’s way. Pardons were begged of course. The manner and voice of the stranger were particularly gentlemanlike. A servant followed with his portmanteau, inquiring into which room Mr. Beauclerc was to go? “Mr. Beauclerc!”--When Helen got to the drawing-room, and found that not even the general was there, she thought she could have time to run up the great staircase to Lady Davenant’s room, and tell her that Mr. Beauclerc was come. “My dear Lady Davenant, Mr. Beauclerc!”--He was there! and she made her retreat as quickly as possible. The quantity that had been said about him, and the awkward way in which they had thus accidentally met, made her feel much embarrassed when they were regularly introduced.