barked, and jumped up at the window to lick her hands.     

       “Good God! Fidel here!” exclaimed Mrs Delvile, amazed.     

       Cecilia, totally overpowered, covered her glowing face with both her hands, and sunk into a chair.     

       Mrs Delvile for a few minutes was silent; and then, following her, said,       “Imagine not I am making any discovery, nor suspect me of any design to develop your sentiments. That Mortimer could love in vain I never, believed; that Miss Beverley, possessing so much merit, could be blind to it in another, I never thought possible. I mean not, therefore, to solicit any account or explanation, but merely to beg your patience while I talk to you myself, and your permission to speak to you with openness and truth.”      

       Cecilia, though relieved by this calmness from all apprehension of reproach, found in her manner a coldness that convinced her of the loss of her affection, and in the introduction to her business a solemnity that assured her what she should decree would be unalterable. She uncovered her face to shew her respectful attention, but she could not raise it up, and       could not utter a word.     

       Mrs Delvile then seated herself next her, and gravely continued her discourse.     

       “Miss Beverley, however little acquainted with the state of our family affairs, can scarcely have been uninformed that a fortune such as hers seems almost all that family can desire; nor can she have failed to observe, that her merit and accomplishments have no where been more felt and admired: the choice therefore of Mortimer she could not doubt would have our sanction, and when she honoured his proposals with her favour, she might naturally conclude she gave happiness and pleasure to all his friends.”      

       Cecilia, superior to accepting a palliation of which she felt herself undeserving, now lifted up her head, and forcing herself to speak, said       “No, madam, I will not deceive you, for I have never been deceived myself:       I presumed not to expect your approbation,—though in missing it I have for ever lost my own!”      

       “Has Mortimer, then,” cried she with eagerness, “been strictly honourable? has he neither beguiled nor betrayed you?”      

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