I had this day a letter from Lady V----. I send you a copy of it.

'I condole with you, my dear Mrs Arnold, on the afflicting loss

you sustained in your good mother's death. You mention not any

particular consequences from this accident; but I know, that by

Lady Bidulph's death, you are deprived of a considerable part of

your income, and on this account I have taken the liberty of

friendship, to send you a supply, which your family-calls may

require, till your affairs are settled upon a better footing.

'Let me know how you and your brother stand; if he should not be

so kind to you as he ought, I insist upon your looking on me as

your banker, who know not how to make so good a use of my income,

as sharing it with those I love as I do you.

'I am, &c.'

The supply which Lady V---- mentioned, accompanied this letter, and was

a bank bill of three hundred pounds.

I own to you, my Cecilia, that my first emotions were only those of joy,

surprize, and gratitude, for so unexpected and important a donation; but

when those were a little subsided, I began to reflect on the nature, and

manner of this noble act of friendship. I know Lady V---- is one of the

best women living; she is generous, and compassionate, and has always

honoured me with a particular regard; yet I must confess to you, her

present now comes to me suspected. I believe I told you, that Lady V----

had retired into Lancashire, to live with an only sister she has there:

this Lady is a widow, and I have since been informed, was left with a

very numerous young family, and an income scarce sufficient to support

them genteely; they are now most of them grown up, and all the girls, of

which there are five, unprovided for. Since Lady V----'s departure, I

have been told, that it was principally on account of these young girls,

of whom she is extremely fond, that she went to reside with her sister,

in order to support them more agreeably to their rank; their father

having been a general officer, and a man of high birth. Lady V----'s

jointure is a thousand pound a year; but as I hear the family make a

respectable figure in the country, and I am sure Lady V----'s fondness

for her nieces, would induce her to save what she could, in order to

leave them something at her death, I cannot reconcile it to her

prudence, notwithstanding the liberality of her spirit, and the

friendship she has for me, that she should make so considerable a

present, at the same time give me as it were an unbounded letter of

credit on her. Had she sent me the sixth part of the sum, I should not

have doubted its being only the effects of her kindness towards me; and

in her present situation, as considerable a proof of it, as she ought in

regard to have given to one whom she has already bound under strong

obligations. But the largeness of the sum renders it suspicious; and to

tell you the secret inspirations of my heart, I fear it comes from a

different quarter.

I made Mrs Faulkland acquainted with my mother's death, about the same

time that I informed Lady V---- of it. To neither did I give the most

distant hint of my circumstances, yet Mr Faulkland knows they cannot be

happy. He too knows better than any body, how far Sir George's

resentment may carry him. Is it not natural then, my dear, to imagine

that this man, who is generosity itself, should have taken this method

of making Lady V---- the channel through which he conveys his

liberality? I am sure it must be so. It is three weeks since Lady V----

had the notice of my mother's death; Why thought she not sooner of

reaching out her supporting hand, if she imagined I stood in need of it?

I gave her no cause to believe I did; otherwise I make no question of

her ready friendship, as far as her abilities would go: but _she_ could

not know as well as Mr Faulkland how much my brother was exasperated

against me, and therefore could not suppose me to be as destitute as I

really am. She desires to know how my brother and I stand. This question

is not Her's; Sir George, for his own credit, perhaps has not told Mr

Faulkland what his conduct has been towards me, but he wants to be

informed. Contriving man! I will disappoint him; nor shall he heap such

obligations on me as must sink me under their weight. I will not receive

this suspected gift of Lady V----'s; but it is a delicate point, and,

whilst I refuse, I must take care not to offend. I will send Lady V----

her bill back again, but in such a manner as to shew her, I refuse her

gift for no other reason but its being too valuable.

_November 24_

See, my Cecilia, whether I have succeeded in my endeavours to

refuse, with a good grace, my Lady V----'s offered kindness.

This is my answer to her.

To Lady V----.

'You oppress me, my dear and ever honoured Lady V----, by a

generosity and friendship that knows no bounds. Why will you force

me to appear proud, or ungrateful, by refusing the favours of so

true a friend? But, my dear Madam, do not believe me either the

one or the other. Had you sent me a trifling token of your love,

you would have been convinced of my respect for you, by the

thankfulness with which I would have accepted it; but do not seek

to humble me so far, my good Lady V----, by heaping favours on me,

which I can never have a prospect of returning. With equal respect

and gratitude, permit me, Madam, to return your too considerable

present. I cannot in honour, receive a liberality, which I am so

little intitled to; and the less, as Justice now demands, that

your bounteous heart, so diffusive in its generosity, should a

little restrain itself.

'I cannot say that my circumstances are as happy as they have

been; yet have I, I thank Heaven, accommodated my mind to them. My

brother has not been in town since my mother's death; but I am not

without hope that he will make my situation easy. On this account,

I know my dear Lady V---- will the more readily pardon my refusal

of her obliging offer, and believe that her goodness is not

bestowed on an unthankful heart.

'I am, &c.'

In this letter I re-inclosed her bill, and have sent it off. Did I not

well, my Cecilia? If, as I strongly suspect, this present came from Mr

Faulkland, I should never endure myself, had I retained it. If it should

have really come from Lady V---- herself, I must still approve my own

conduct. The sum (circumstanced as she now is) was certainly too much

for _her_ to bestow, or _me_ to receive; and in the manner of my

refusal, I think I have insinuated this, with as much deference for Lady

V----'s judgment as I could shew. She will see my motive, and I think

that will be a sort of touch-stone, whereby I shall discover, from her

behaviour, whether my doubts are well grounded or not.--

Patty has, by her inquiries, heard of a little pleasant retirement in

the country, about fifty miles off, where my children and I can be

tolerably lodged and boarded for thirty pounds a year, at the house of

an honest farmer, a relation of hers; thither I shall repair as soon as

my little girls are in a condition to be removed.

[_Continued by Patty._]

_November 26_

The dismal task is fallen upon me again, to keep an account of our

melancholy days. My dear suffering lady is seized with a fever, and

confined to her bed. She orders me, Madam, to write down every thing as

it happens. Lord keep us! there is nothing but sorrows in this world: I

am sure, at least, my poor lady has had her full share of them. Her

close attendance on the children, and the loss of rest for so many

nights, has brought this new affliction on her. Oh, Madam, the loss of

health is a grievous thing, even when there are riches: what must it be

in my lady's circumstances? But she has the patience of Job himself. To

be sure, Madam, her trials are enough to put another beside themselves;

but I think my lady's courage increases with her troubles. I was

obliged, to-day, with an aching heart, to dispose of a fine lace head of

my lady's. I heard her say, it cost sixty pounds; but, though it never

was wet but once, I got but fifteen for it, and this, perhaps, may all

go to the doctor, if my lady's illness continues long. What does it

signify? We cannot buy health too dear.

_November 30_

My lady is better between whiles; the doctor says, her disorder is

chiefly on her spirits; and, though it is not dangerous, he is afraid it

will be very tedious. Lord! what will become of us if it is?

_December 3_

My lady has had a letter this day, from Lady V----, which she has

ordered me to send you, Madam, a copy of.

To Mrs Arnold.

'You cannot imagine, my dear Mrs Arnold, how uneasy you have made

me, by your not accepting of the bill I sent you, because I too

well know the occasion you have for it. But, since you _have_

refused (and I know the sincerity and strength of your

resolutions) I must not take to myself the merit of this friendly

and generous offer; too liberal indeed, as you, with great

delicacy, hinted, for _me_ to make. To let you into the secret at

once, and that your gratitude may be directed to the proper place,

it was from our noble friend Mr Faulkland that I received that

sum, with instructions to send it to you, as from myself, for he

well knows you would not have accepted it from him; but, since I

see you are determined to reject it, as coming even from me, I

think I ought, in justice to him, to place this act of friendship

to the right account.

'I had a letter lately from Mr Faulkland, wherein he tells me,

that having heard, from your correspondence with Mrs Faulkland, of

Lady Bidulph's death, he fears you are by her loss, rendered

extremely unhappy in your circumstances. He is not a stranger to

the losses you formerly sustained in your fortune, and he says

besides, he knows your brother's warm temper so well, that he is

apprehensive he will carry an unreasonable resentment he has taken

up so far, as to deny you that brotherly kindness and assistance,

which you have a right to expect from him. "If this be the case"

(he adds) "what must be Mrs Arnold's situation?" He then conjures

me to convey to you that trifle (as he called it) under the

sanction of my own name, that being the only one from which he had

a hope it would not be refused; and he farther said, that if you

should be prevailed upon, on account of the friendship which he

knew there was between you and me, to accept of my service, he

would contrive, from time to time, to furnish you with such little

supplies, as might make you easy, 'till Sir George and you should

be on better terms. Now, my dear Mrs Arnold, you have the truth of

this whole affair. I own it was with great reluctance I lent my

name to impose on you, but, as it was so much for your benefit, I

overcame my scruple.

'I could wish your extreme nicety had not forbid you to accept

this offer: I have reason to be angry with you on this account;

yet my amiable, sagacious friend, perhaps you had your doubts. Be

that as it will, remember you said you would not have refused a

small token of my love; I wish I could send you one worthy of your

acceptance, and the love I bear you; we should then see whose

punctilio should get the better. As it is, I send you a very small

token, which I insist on your taking, if you have the least

occasion; if this should be the case, I know the candour of your

heart, and that you will be too ingenuous to grieve me by a

refusal.

'I hope Mr Faulkland will not be angry with me for betraying his

secret; But what would it now avail to keep it? I would have

_you_, as well as myself, know his worth. Oh how I lament--but it

is to no purpose--Adieu, my dear good creature! you are tried like

fine gold, and your excellence is become the more conspicuous by

adversity--.

'I am, &c.'

My Lady's spirits were greatly affected by reading this letter; she wept

bitterly, and was so cast down all day, I was afraid it would make her

disorder much worse. The good Lady V---- inclosed a bill of fifty pounds

in it. My Lady said she must not refuse it, but would thank her ladyship

whenever she was able to take a pen in her hand. God knows when that

will be; for though she struggles with her illness, it still gets the

mastery. The two young misses mend but slowly; they do not gather the

least strength, and one of them has such a weakness in her eyes that she

cannot bear the least light. Indeed, Madam, this is a most melancholy

family. I pray to God night and day to keep me in health, more for their

sakes than my own; for I think it would quite break my heart if they

should want my attendance, and I should not be able to give it to

them.--

_December 6_

I write on. Madam, as I am ordered, though I have but little to say, in

the confinement of a dismal sick room, where I never see any body but a

doctor and an apothecary: but my lady is unwilling to let this packet

go, till she is able herself to tell you (with her own hand) that she is

better, for fear my dull account should make you uneasy.

_December 7_

There is such changes and turns in my lady's disorder, that we do not

know what to make of it. One while we think she is a little better, and

then again the next hour she seems much worse than before. The doctor

would have a consultation, though my lady is quite against it; but these

doctors love to bring in one another. My Lady V----'s present came in

good time, but if they go on at this rate it will not last long. My lady

said to me to-day, Patty one would think that I was of great

consequence, and mighty happy, by this bustle to preserve my life; but

there is the tie (pointing to the two children); for their sakes I must

try to get well.

[After an interview of six weeks written by Mrs Arnold in a hand scarce

legible.]

_January 20_

Restored at length by the mercy of God from the jaws of death! restored

to my children, to my dear Cecilia, and just able to tell her with a

feeble hand that her Sidney lives--.

_January 25_

I am now able, my dear, to reassume that task, once the most pleasing of

my life, when health, joy, and prosperity gilded all my days. The scene

is now changed; and I think I have nothing the same about me, but the

feelings and affections of my mind. You cannot imagine, my Cecilia, how

I am altered; you would not now say, that you envied my white and red;

you would hardly know me, and it is not to be wondered at, preyed on as

I have been for near two months by a slow but tormenting fever. It is

with difficulty that I hold my pen, but my willing hand obeys my heart

when it would pour itself out to thee. I have made a shift to scrawl a

few lines to my good Lady V----, to thank her for her kindness. I could

not refuse it! it would indeed have been disingenuous, considering the

footing on which she put my acceptance of it. I should have been driven

to extreme streights, if it had not been for her present, confined as

long as I have been to the languishing bed of sickness.

_January 26_

Patty heard to-day that my brother has been in town some time, but he

takes no notice of me. I have not a relation in the world but himself.

He could not sure be so cruel, if he knew all. But Lady Sarah keeps it

from him; she thinks perhaps I am slunk into some obscure corner, where

she leaves me to distress. Sir George is not of a savage nature, yet his

humanity is not strong enough to seek out the afflicted. His pride too I

know is gratified by having me out of the way of observation, and so

long as I do not call upon him, I find he will not enquire after me.

The winter is now so far advanced, and I am in a condition so extremely

weak, that I cannot, till the spring advances a little, think of taking

my flight to my peaceful retreat in the country. I look eagerly forward

to the time of my enlargement; such I may call it, for indeed, my dear,

my spirits are quite exhausted with my long confinement in a little

close lodging in this irksome town.

_January 27_

The gentlewoman with whom I lodged in St Alban's-street, told Patty, who

went to her house to-day to enquire if there were any letters for me,

that there have been, at different times, several people of my former

acquaintance to look for me; but I do not find that one enquiry has come

from my brother. I had given the gentlewoman instructions not to tell

any stranger where I lodged. I believe this caution was needless, there

are few who give themselves the trouble to trace out the steps of the

unhappy; and I dare say, that those whom common form obliged to pay me a

visit of condolence on my mother's death, were none of them much hurt at

the disappointment of not finding me.--

_January 30_

I have been laying down a little sort of plan for my future life. I told

you the terms I could live upon with the farmer whom Patty found out for

me; but as I cannot expect to be boarded at so cheap a rate when my

children are grown bigger, I have been devising the means how to enlarge

my scanty income against the time that our wants must necessarily

increase; for I am firmly resolved my kind Lady V---- shall never

augment the debt I already owe her. You know, my dear, I am pretty

dexterous at my needle; the woman where I lodge deals in embroidery,

which is much in fashion, and I think I have not seen any, though she

pays largely to her artificers in this way, equal to some pieces of my

own work. Now, my Cecilia, I have resolved to apply myself to this when

I get into the country. I shewed the woman a small fire-skreen wrought

by me when I was a girl, the same which I remember my poor Mr Arnold

accused me of neglecting for my Horace, and which had never been made

up; she said the work was so curious, that she would give any price for

such a hand. Patty is well skilled in this sort of work too, and as I

find she is determined not to quit me, I must, in return, endeavour not

to let the poor girl be too great a sufferer for her kindness.

I think we shall between us be able to do a good deal, and my landlady

has promised to receive and dispose of our work for a small

consideration; as fast as we can send it to her; which we shall have

constant opportunities of doing.

You cannot imagine how pleased I am with my scheme. Patty is in raptures

at the thoughts of her being permitted to continue with me. I would even

now set about my project if my health would allow me; but alas! my

Cecilia, I am still so feeble, I am not able to sit up more than an hour

or two at a time; and cannot walk a-cross my narrow room without help.

Fresh air and a little gentle exercise would I am sure, more than any

thing, contribute to restore my strength; but the means to procure

these, are not conveniently within my power; so that I must wait that

slow, but generally sure remedy, patience.

_February 10_

I have a wonderful incident to relate to you! you, my Cecilia, I know

will join with me in admiring and praising God for his gracious

providence!

This morning I was but just risen and got down into my little parlour,

when Patty came to tell me, a man desired to speak with me. I

immediately ordered him to be admitted. Patty accordingly introduced the

person, who had stood in the entry whilst she was speaking to me. He

seemed to be a man between forty and fifty years old, mean in his

apparel, though clean. I nodded to my maid to leave the room, which when

she had done, I civilly demanded of the stranger his business.

I was standing when he entered the room, and continued doing so while I

spoke to him, not thinking from his appearance that he was intitled to

sit down with me. You know I am not proud, but there is a sort of usage

established, which we naturally fall into. The man who had advanced some

steps into the room, looked over his shoulder as if for a chair; so I

understood the motion, and accordingly sat down myself, and bad him do

so too. He did, and with an air as if he considered the civility to be

only what was due to him.

I believe, Madam, said he, though you do not remember me, that you

cannot be ignorant of your having had a relation of the name of Warner,

who went to the West-Indies about five and twenty years ago. I answered,

I do remember to have heard of such a person.

You see that unfortunate man before you, he replied; I am your near

relation, Madam, your father was my mother's only brother: I have been

very unhappy; I lost, in my return to England, what almost five and

twenty years industry had scraped together: the sum was but a moderate

one, yet sufficient to have supported me decently for the remainder of

my life. I asked him, how it happened? I began, said he, to grow sickly

abroad, and was told that my native air might restore me. This advice so

well agreed with my own inclinations, which were, for a long time past,

bent upon returning home, that I took the first opportunity of a ship

bound for England; but we were unluckily met by a French privateer, who

stripped me of every thing but the clothes on my back, and set me on

shore on the coast of Spain, whence I begged my passage to England,

having nothing to support me but a few shillings, part of a collection,

made for me and my fellow-sufferers, amongst some English gentlemen.

Whilst he spoke I thought I could discover a likeness in his face to my

father. He was reckoned extremely to resemble his sister, the mother of

this unhappy Mr Warner; she was a fine woman, and I had seen her

picture. His story was credible; and I had no reason to doubt the truth

of what he said.

And here I will give you a brief account of what occasioned this

unfortunate relation to be thus long an alien from his family.

His mother, as you have just now heard, was my father's sister, who

threw her person and her fortune away upon a broken officer. This act

disobliged my father so much, that from the time of her marriage, to the

hour of her death, he never would see her. Her husband died, when this

their only child was about nine years old; the poor mother survived him

but a short time, and the orphan boy was left to my father's mercy. I

have often heard him say he was very unlucky, and never could be

persuaded into a love of his book; he was, however, put to school, and

my father bestowed the same expence on his education, as if he had been

his own son. When he was about sixteen years old, as he wrote a good

hand, and had a great capacity for figures, he bound him apprentice to a

merchant, in which situation he had been above a year, (and during that

time he had made several elopements, and was with difficulty reconciled

to his master, through my father's mediation) when he committed such a

misdemeanour in his master's family as obliged him to abscond.

Accordingly he stole, unknown to any body, on board a ship bound to the

West-Indies, of which his master was partly owner, where he hid himself,

and nobody could tell what was become of him, 'till my father, about

nine months after his departure, received a letter from him, dated from

Jamaica, wherein he begged pardon of him, and his master, for his

elopement, told him, that he had been taken into a merchant's compting

house, and declared, that he meant, by his diligence and good behaviour,

to make amends for his past ill conduct. This was the only letter my

father or any of his friends ever had from him. He answered it; but had

no return; nor could he, from repeated enquiries, made two or three

years after, learn any thing of him; so that all his relations concluded

him dead.

These particulars I had heard before from my father, and his relations

perfectly agreeing with them in every circumstance, I could have no

doubt but that he was the man. Sir, said I, I very well remember to have

heard your story; your likeness to my father, who was the image of your

mother, leaves me no room to question your being the Mr Warner, of whom

I have so often heard: you are indeed my near relation, and it grieves

my heart to see you in such distress; and the more so, as I have not the

ability I could wish to assist you; but we will talk over more

particulars after breakfast. I rang the bell, and ordered Patty to get

some coffee. While we were at breakfast, I asked my new-found kinsman by

what means he had discovered me so soon? (for, by the way, I should have

told you that he said he had been arrived but two days in London.) He

answered, that one of the English gentlemen, who had been so kind to him

at Cadiz, had given him a letter to a gentleman in London, for whom he

was to leave it at a coffee-house in Pall-mall; that as he was

delivering it, he perceived another letter lying on the bar, directed to

Sir George Bidulph. The two names struck him, remembering them to be

those of his cousin. His uncle, he supposed, was dead; but he determined

to enquire who that gentleman was, and if he found it to be my brother,

to apply to him for assistance. He had soon an opportunity of being

satisfied; my brother happened to come in his chariot to the door, just

as Mr Warner was going out; he knew the arms, and had some recollection

even of his features. It was past three o'clock, and I heard Sir George

direct his servant home. I concluded he was going to dinner, and that

the morning was the properest time to call on him, and having informed

myself where he lived, I accordingly went yesterday morning.

He stopped, and sipped his coffee for some time without speaking.

And did you see him, Sir? Yes, Madam, I saw him, and heard him too. He

has got a fine house, and seems to have every thing very elegant about

him. When I was let into the hall, I desired the footman to acquaint his

master that a gentleman, newly arrived from the West-Indies, wanted to

speak with him, being commissioned by Mr Warner, a relation of his, to

enquire after him. The footman went up stairs, and returning presently,

asked me if I brought a letter from the gentleman I mentioned. I said,

No, but I had something to say to him.

The servant, after delivering this message, came halfway down the first

flight of the stairs, and leaning over the banisters, he bid me walk up.

I found your brother, and his lady (I suppose) in her dressing-room, at

breakfast. There was tea and chocolate on the table. I bowed very

respectfully; the lady scarce moved her head; your brother said, Your

servant, Sir, and viewed me from head to foot, but fixed his eyes

earnestly on my face. The footman who had introduced me had withdrawn.

Sir, said I, have you quite forgot me? I remember you well. He answered

hesitatingly, and with a change of countenance that boded me no good, I

protest, Sir,--I--I know nothing of you. 'Have you forgot your cousin

Ned Warner?' He looked at his wife, and she at him; he forced a smile at

her, which she returned, without knowing for what. 'I do remember there

was such a one related to the family, whom we all supposed to be dead;

as for recollecting his person--'tis really so long ago--that I--can't

say I do.' All this while he let me stand, he was lolling in an easy

chair, and had a dish of chocolate in his hand, of which he sipped and

spoke to me by turns. His wife was feeding a monkey that was perched on

her shoulder.

I am indeed more altered than you, Sir George; the hardships which I

have undergone, and my long residence in a warmer climate, may readily

account for that; but have you no traces of my features? No recollection

of my voice? I have carried you many times in my arms. 'Sir, I do not

dispute the _identity_ of your person, but I should be glad to know

your commands with me.' _Commands_ I have none, Sir: the poor must

entreat, not command.

I then proceeded to tell him my unhappy story in the same words I just

now gave it to you. His lady seemed not to mind me, but kept talking to

her marmouset. He listened to me, but with so much impatience in his

looks, as quite abashed me. I was still standing, but a little to take

off the aukwardnes of my posture, I had ventured to rest one arm on the

back of a chair.

When I had done speaking, your brother got up in a violent passion, to

which he seemed to have been working himself up during the time I took

to explain myself. He whisked away the chair on which I was leaning, and

walked to the other end of the room; then turning to his lady, Is not

this a pretty fellow to force his way in upon us, by a sham story of a

message from a relation? and now truly by way of an agreeable surprize

he turns out to be that very relation come a begging in his own proper

person. Sir, said I, I ask your pardon for the liberty I took to gain

admittance to you; but you will be the more inclined to excuse me, if

you please to consider that it was out of respect to you that I would

not in the mean appearance I now make, acknowledge myself to any of your

servants; for the same reason I imagined, that had I not sent a message

which I was in hopes would have a little interested you in my favour, I

might have been ordered to send up my business by your footman, which

would I thought have been quite improper. You might have writ, said he,

interrupting me. Ah Sir, (shaking my head) if I _had_--and I stopped

short. 'You might not have been much the better for it: is that what you

would say? (with a contemptuous half sneer.) In short, Sir, I can do

nothing for you; what is it that you expect I _should_ do?' I do not

mean to be a burden on you, Sir, I replied, I was bred to business, I

write a good hand, and understand accompts. I hope to get into some

merchant's house; but in the mean time I am starving. I am an utter

stranger here, though in my own country. I observed he had slipped his

hands into his breeches pocket, and seemed to be feeling for a bit of

money. Sir George, said the lady, (who had observed him as well as I)

'tis to no purpose to give any thing to these sort of people; assist

one, and They will send another to you, and so there is no end to such

claims. Your brother withdrew his hand from his pocket, as if checked by

his lady's looks. 'Sir, it is not in my power to assist you.' I then

asked him if you were living, and where I could find you? for though you

were not born when I left England, I heard afterwards that Sir Robert

Bidulph had a daughter. Your brother replied peevishly he knew nothing

of you, as you preferred the friendship of strangers to that of your

relations. He then rang the bell, and calling his man to dress him, went

out of the room without casting a look at me. I ventured to ask his lady

your name (if you had changed it) and where you lived. She told me your

name, but said she knew not where you lodged, adding I might spare

myself the trouble of enquiring you out, for to her knowlege you could

do nothing for me.

I took my leave, but enquiring of a footman whom I found in the hall, he

directed me to St Alban's Street, where you formerly lodged. I went

there, and it was with difficulty that I could prevail on the woman of

the house to tell me where you now lived; but my necessities made me

urgent, and I waited on you this morning, Madam, to make my distress

known to you; but I am afraid the information I had from your

sister-in-law concerning you has but too much truth in it. As he spoke

this he cast his eyes round my meanly furnished parlour, looked at the

poor equipage of my tea table, and again sipped his unfinished and now

cold dish of coffee.

Sir, said I, when my sister informed you that I was poor, it is certain

she spoke truth; I am not, however, I thank God, _so_ poor but that I

can spare you a little; if you will take a cheap lodging near me, I will

supply you with enough to pay for it; and if you can eat as I and my

little family do, you shall be welcome to us every day till something

can be done for you. I see but very few people, but I will speak to such

as come in my way to try to have you recommended to some one for

employment. I then put my hand in my pocket, and taking out five

shillings (all the silver I had) I put it into his hand: Sir, you may

owe some little trifle where you have slept these two nights, I fear

your lodging has been but poor, but if this will not discharge it tell

me freely.

He suffered me to drop the shillings into his unclosed hand. He fixed

his eyes eagerly on my face, but instead of replying to what I said, he

only cried out, Good God! good God! and undoing two or three buttons at

his breast, he sobbed as if his bosom was bursting. I was affected with

his gratitude, and tried to disperse the tears that mounted to my eyes.

I wish I could weep, said he, but I can't; and may these be the last

tears that ever you shall have occasion to shed! my worthy, my generous,

my pious relation! God forgive me for trying such a heart, but I will

reward it, amply will I reward your goodness.

He then drew a red letter-case out of his bosom, and, opening it, he put

a bill into my hand for two thousand pounds on the bank of England.

Think, my dear, how I started at such a vision! Sir, you amaze me! was

all I could say. I beg your pardon for deceiving you, said he, but it

was with a good intent. I suppose it is needless to tell you that I am

not that poor forlorn wretch that I represented myself to you. Hear the

real truth of my circumstances. You see before you (of a private man)

one of the richest subjects in these dominions. You have heard that my

setting-out was no other than that of a common writing-clerk in a

merchant's counting-house at Jamaica; from whence I wrote twice to your

father, but never had any answer. I interrupted him to tell him, I had

heard my father say he had got one letter from him, and had writ to him

in return, and afterwards made many enquiries after him without success.

Perhaps he might, said he, but I never received it, nor heard of any

enquiries made, which piqued me so, that I resolved never to write

again. In a little time I made myself so useful to my master that he

grew exceedingly fond of me; and having no heir but an only daughter,

who it seems had conceived an inclination for me, though without my

suspecting it, but which her father had by some means discovered, he

frankly made an offer of her to me in marriage; with an assurance of

leaving me all that he was worth at his decease, and an immediate

proffer of entering into partnership with him. The only return he

required on my part, was to change my name, and assume his, which was

Collett. I made no scruple of complying; for though my regard to the

young lady had never risen to what is commonly called love, I yet

thought her in all respects an unexceptionable match. I married her; my

patron punctually fulfilled his promise; and at the end of three years I

found myself by his death in possession of a considerable estate. The

following year I lost my wife in childbed of her first child, who died

with its mother. The changing my name was probably the occasion of my

not being found out by those employed to enquire after me; and I perhaps

ought now to acknowlege myself careless in not acquainting my friends

with my good fortune.

I had such uncommon success in trade that my wealth increased amazingly.

In about five years after the decease of my first wife, I married the

widow of a merchant, with whom I got an immense fortune. This lady I

truly loved. She was an amiable creature. I had one son by her, a fine

youth, and we lived happily together for twelve years; at the end of

which it pleased God to take from me both wife and child. Poor man! his

tears began to flow here. He proceeded. After this loss my own life

began to grow tiresome to me; I had more riches than I knew what to do

with, and had nobody to leave them to; my health began to decline; I

grew weary of the place, and resolved, partly to divert my melancholy,

and partly through affection to my native country, to see England once

more. I settled my affairs in the best manner, sent considerable sums of

money over before me, and brought a large one with me. During my voyage

the whim took me, that I would enquire privately after your family, and

present myself to you as I have done, in order to make trial of your

dispositions, resolving, according as I found you worthy of it, to share

my fortune amongst you, as I knew I had no other relations in the world.

I have been in England above a month. The first thing I did was to go

down into Wiltshire, where I was soon informed that your father and

mother were dead, and that your brother was married and resided for the

most part in London; you, I was told, had been married and was a widow,

but I could learn no more about you. On my return to town I soon found

where your brother lived, and had the pleasure to hear a good character

of him; but I had determined to make my own experiment on him, and I did

intend, had he received me ever so kindly, to have made the same

experiment on you, before I disclosed my plot to either of you.

I dressed myself in these old clothes on purpose, and what the success

of my scheme has been you know. Your brother, narrow hearted, inhuman

wretch, I blot forever from my thoughts: it will be the better for you,

though I have more than enough for you both.

Your kindness, I tell you again, my valuable relation, I will repay an

hundred-fold. Accept of that bill in your hand for your present use. I

am sure you want it; and accept of it only as an earnest of my future

friendship towards you. That brother, in affluence himself, who could

see his sister, _such_ a sister want, must have lost all regard to ties

of blood, and 'tis no wonder that I, so much further removed in kindred,

met with such treatment at his hands.

See, my Cecilia, what an amazing turn of fortune! What could I do but

lift up my eyes, as I did my heart, in silent adoration of that God, who

is a father to the fatherless, and defendeth the cause of the widow!

It was some time before I could frame my mind to discourse on ordinary

subjects. I gratefully accepted my cousin's noble present. He enquired

minutely into my situation; there was no need of concealing any thing

from him, nor did I attempt it. He was very inquisitive as to my

brother's behaviour towards me. I told him the whole of it; he was even

bitter in his invectives against him, and Lady Sarah. But, said he, I

will have my revenge on them; I will make you triumph over him, and that

proud upstart his wife. What lodgings you are in my poor dear creature!

Is this your best room? I told him I had nothing but that and a

bed-chamber where the children and I lay, and a closet for my maid. He

desired to see the children, and I had them both brought it. He kissed

them tenderly; poor babes! you have a cursed uncle, but you have a very

good mamma, and I will take care of you all.

I will dine with you to-morrow, said he; let us eat a comfortable morsel

together, and for your life not a word of what has past to any body. He

then took an affectionate leave of me and departed.--Let me here lay

down my pen and wonder at my fate!

I have got into a flow of spirits, my dear. What scenes of happiness

might now open upon me, if happiness consisted in riches alone? but no,

no, it does not. My heart, broken by vexation, cannot recover its

tranquillity so soon. Yet is there room for joy, joy springing from a

rational, from a humane, from a commendable motive; and I will a little

indulge it. I can now in part return the vast obligation I owe Mr

Faulkland, as far as at least relates to pecuniary debts. I can now

repay many-fold the kindness of my good lady V----. I can provide for my

affectionate worthy Patty. I have the delightful prospect of giving my

children an education suitable to their birth; and, if my life is

prolonged, of seeing them honourably and happily settled in the world. I

shall have the glorious power of diffusing benefits! Oh, my dear, 'tis

good for me that I have been in trouble, it has so enlarged my charity,

that I feel transports which prosperity is a stranger to, at the bare

idea of having it in my power to succour the afflicted. Who would not

suffer adversity to have the heart so improved?

_February 11_

My new-found relation dined with me to-day according to promise. Patty

had provided two dishes of the best things in season, and dressed them

admirably; I need not tell you in what satisfaction Mr Warner and I

enjoyed our little chearful meal. He had sent me in the morning a hamper

of excellent wine, and seemed to relish his bottle with an extraordinary

good goust.

When Patty had carried the children up stairs, and we were left alone,

he told me that he had been that morning looking out a house for me; you

must quit these lodgings directly, and submit a little to my management;

for I _will_ mortify your paltry brother and his wife. You shall have as

handsome a house as his, and better furnished too, or I'll know why. You

must know I mean to set you out like a dutchess, and you shall roll by

that worthless puppy's door in a better equipage than his minx is

carried in. But I do not intend to live with you as well as I love you;

for though I am an old weather-beaten fellow, you are young and

handsome, and the world I know is full of scandal. I shall therefore

content myself with a lodging some where in your neighbourhood, and come

and see you now and then. I thanked him for the prudence of his

consideration, but begged he would restrain his generosity, and suffer

me to live in that moderate state, which, if I had ever so much riches,

would be my choice. Don't oppose me coz, said he; pray don't. I _must_

have my way in this, I have set my heart upon it. You shall _blaze_ for

a while at least; when I have had my revenge, you may live as you please

afterwards. I was unwilling to contradict him in his odd humour; yet was

very much afraid of the consequences of _blazing_, as he called it, all

at once. But dear Sir, said I what will the world think of my emerging

thus from obscurity into the splendour you talk of? though you do not

live with me, as I am still young, may it not give room for censure?

busy people will pry into the source from whence I draw my affluence,

and envy will not be backward in putting wrong constructions on an

appearance by which it will be so much excited.

He listened, looking at me earnestly in the face; then nodding his head,

with a very grave countenance said, You are a sensible woman, coz, and I

commend your prudence, but I must have my will for all that. I could not

forbear smiling at his manner; and going on, if, said I, I were to enter

again into public life with a moderately genteel appearance only,

nobody's curiosity would be excited, as it might easily be supposed that

my brother had enabled me to support a decent figure in the world.--I

soon found that I had made use of a wrong argument, which put my friend

into a violent passion. A fiddle-stick for you and your brother too,

said he; do you think I will let that whelp have the credit of what _I_

mean to do for you? no, no, set your heart at rest about that; what I

do, all the world shall know, and my reasons for it too. I'll have my

own way; there is no hurt I hope in providing for a near kinswoman, that

is left to starve by a still nearer relation. I make you my heir, look

you, and I will spread it all over the town. Is there any harm in that?

God knows I have no more ill in my heart than one of your children; but

I am a little resenting may be, so say no more of it. I found Mr Warner

was pretty positive, therefore thought it the wisest way to insist no

farther upon the argument; but told him I would submit intirely to his

discretion. It will be best for you, said he; consider me as your

father, and I will _be_ a father to you. He then told me that he had

been trying to get a house for me near my brother's, that I might _nose_

him as he called it; but that as there were none empty in the square, he

had fixed on a very handsome one in an adjoining street. I did not like

the furniture, said he, so I ordered it out, and have bespoke new of an

upholder, who promises me, in a week or ten days at farthest, to have

every thing completely fitted up. In the mean time I can't bear to see

you in this sorry room; poor soul! how long have you been here? I told

him near four months, and that, with his permission, I would continue in

these lodgings till the house was ready, as it was not worth while to

change them for so short a time. Well, said he, you may do as you will

for that; I'll see that every thing is to your satisfaction. He took his

leave with an affectionate shake by the hand.

How miraculous is all this, my dear! this messenger of good tidings, is

he not sent to me by providence? as I found he intended not to make a

secret of his designs in my favour, I was in haste to divulge the joyful

news to my friends. I have accordingly writ to my Lady V----, giving her

an account of the wonderful revolution in my affairs; and I intend, as

soon as I can fix upon some curious present worth her acceptance, to

make her a large return for her favours. I have also acquainted Mrs

Faulkland of the happy turn in my fortune, and I design a magnificent

present for her as soon as I have time to prepare it. To neither of

these ladies have I hinted at my brother's behaviour, either to myself,

or Mr Warner. I have made the good woman, with whom I lodge, stare

wonderfully at the relation. I could get nothing from her but

exclamations of astonishment, her hands and eyes lifted up, 'Good God!

Lord bless us! what strange things come about! what luck _some_ people

are born to! and this was your _own, own_ cousin that you never set eyes

on before? My goodness, what a swarthy gentleman he is! but tumbling in

gold, I warrant him. It would be long before such good fortune would

happen to me, though I have a cousin beyond seas too.' I could plainly

see that this poor woman envied my prosperity, though she tried to

congratulate me; but it is the less to be wondered at, as she knew not

that I was born to any better prospect, than that of working for my

bread in a two pair of stairs room.

_February 15_

I have not seen my honest kinsman these four days; but he sent me a note

to inform me that he was busy in seeing every thing put in order in my

new house; and that he abstained from visiting me out of _discretion_,

this word he marked, the more to impress his full meaning. He says I

shall not see any thing till all is ready, neither has he yet so much as

told me the street where I am to live. I find he _will_, as he himself

says, have his own way.

_February 22_

Now, my Cecilia, I may reasonably hope that my afflictions are at an

end: as far as wealth can promote felicity, that felicity is mine.

I have just settled with my landlady, and having paid her for her

lodgings, made her a present, a little to reconcile her to my

prosperity, when a new chariot most superbly gilt stopped at my door; a

black and a white footman in rich laced liveries behind it. One of these

brought me a note from Mr Warner, who informed, me that he had sent my

_own_ equipage to carry me home, where I should find him waiting to

welcome me to my _own_ house.

Patty seemed to have got wings to her feet; she flew up to me with the

welcome notice, and begged of me to observe from the window, that the

servants were in our own family livery; with this difference, that the

lace was silver instead of what we used to give.

On expressing my surprise at this, Patty told me that Mr Warner had, at

his second visit, enquired of her, as she let him out, what liveries we

used to give, but bid her not mention it to me; which she said she would

not do, as she guessed he meant to surprise me. But this was not all, he

had been so minutely correct, as to have the Arnold arms in a lozenge

elegantly painted on the doors; what these were, he was at the pains of

informing himself elsewhere. My Patty almost frantick with joy hurried

the two children down stairs, and stuck them up in the chariot, telling

them both it was their own as she put them into it; but the poor babes

fell a crying, and were not to be pacified by the novelty or finery of

the thing till I came to them. She staid behind to send our little

baggage after us, and I drove to my new house in Pall-mall; where I

found my generous benefactor waiting, as he had promised, to receive

me.

Oh my dear he is a princely man! such grandeur, such elegance! he led me

thro' every room, where wealth and magnificence were displayed even to

profusion. From top to bottom there is not the smallest article wanting

that luxury itself can imagine. The carpets, skreens, cabinets, and an

abundance of fine china, are beyond comparison more beautiful than any

thing of the kind I have ever seen. 'Tis but eleven days since my

kinsman mentioned his design to me, and you must believe he has been

indefatigable in his diligence, since he has left nothing for me to do,

but at once to take possession of this splendid mansion. All the

necessary domesticks are hired, and ready in their respective stations;

and I am already as much settled in a few hours, as if I had lived here

so many years.

Mr Warner told me that as a trifle would not be sufficient to keep up

every thing in proportionable state about me, he intended to allow me

three thousand pounds a year. This appointment, said he, you are to

consider as your own property, and just call upon me as you would on

your steward. I am sure you will employ it well, you gave me a proof of

that in _your five shillings_. You need not be afraid of being too

profuse in your charities; when I die you will find yourself possessed

of the means of continuing them.

Dear Sir, said I, long may you live to feel and rejoice in the blessings

which _your_ bounty will, through me, I hope, draw down on us both. I

leave you to enjoy yourself, said he; but I am impatient till your

brother knows what he has lost by his hard-heartedness. He cannot long

be ignorant of it, Sir, replied I; but indeed I flatter myself that he

is not quite so much to blame in regard to me, as we have both imagined.

You see he seemed to know nothing of my situation when you enquired

after me, and even threw out something like a reproach for my having

withdrawn myself without acquainting him where I was; I am very sure

lady Sarah never informed him of my having applied to her.--It was his

duty to have enquired you out, said he; did he not know you were poor?

He knew, said I, that my circumstances were very much streighten'd, but

he did not know _how_ much. Well, well, answered Mr Warner, it is good

in you to excuse him, but _I_ know him to be a narrow-hearted poltroon.

He took his leave, and said he would see me soon again, having taken

lodgings for himself in my neighbourhood.

_February 23_

I begin to doubt, my Cecilia, whether I am really awake or not! 'Tis

all enchantment! I am afraid my old kinsman is a wizard.... I have been

talking to, and examining my servants, to see if they are real living

people, or only phantoms; I look at, and handle the rich furniture of my

apartments to try if it be substantial!--'Tis all so--every thing

real--I beg my cousin's pardon for suspecting him of sorcery; I believe

he deals in no charms, but that all-powerful one--money.

Now, my sister, what a spacious field is there opened before me! Three

thousand pounds a year! how many hearts will it be in my power to make

glad! and I will make many glad.

'O Lord God, who hast showered down thy blessings in abundance on

my head, vouchsafe me such a portion of thy grace, that I may

become an humble instrument of thy mercy, to those whom the rod of

adversity has laid in the dust. Teach me so to use this thy

bounteous favour, that _Thy_ honour, not _my_ worldly desires may

be promoted; that _Thy_ praise, not _my_ pride may be exalted. And

if, O Lord, thou hast chosen me to be the dispenser of thy

fatherly kindness to the afflicted that cry unto thee, quicken in

my heart such diligence, humility, and integrity, as may render me

not unworthy of the important trust. But if, O my God! thou has

sent riches only to be a trial of my strength, unsupported by

thee; be merciful, take them from me, and restore to me that

poverty, which first taught me to know myself.'

Upon my knees I have poured out this prayer to the Almighty, and it is

the fervent wish of my soul that he would grant it.

_February 26_

You will smile, my dear, as I did, in pity of the meanness of poor Lady

Sarah; but proud people are always mean. I have been here but four days,

yet I find she has already heard of my metamorphosis. Indeed she could

hardly do otherwise, so near her as I am. Mr Warner has been very urgent

with me to drive out in my new chariot; this I readily complied with, as

both the children and I wanted air and exercise, and yesterday we drove

to Hyde-Park. I did not however go at the hour when there is most

company, but I conclude I was seen either by Lady Sarah herself, or by

some one who told her; for this morning, prodigious! she sent her woman

to me with a message. I had her called up stairs, and enquired very

civilly after my brother and his lady.

She told me that Lady Sarah sent her humble service to me, and was very

much surprised that she had not heard from me in so long a time; that

she supposed I was gone out of town, but as Sir George seemed uneasy

that I never wrote to him, her ladyship had sent her to enquire for me

at my old lodgings in the Hay-Market, from whence she had been directed

to me here; and that she was ordered to tell me that her lady had talked

to my brother about the affair that I knew of, and that Sir George would

act agreeably to her request, if I would call or write a line to him.

I found the woman had been instructed to feign an entire ignorance on

her lady's part of the change in my circumstances, but I was resolved to

let her see I had detected this paltry artifice. I could observe that

the servant, though she endeavoured to avoid it, eyed every thing in my

apartment with surprise and curiosity; and I concluded that Lady Sarah

had sent her for no other purpose, but to satisfy herself from her

maid's account, whether the report she had heard concerning me was true.

Tell your lady, said I, she needed not to have been at the pains of

framing such a message to have gratified her curiosity; my house is open

to any one who has a mind to look at it, even to Lady Sarah herself. You

shall see it all over, and may report to her ladyship what my cousin

Warner's bounty has done for me; and she may then judge whether I stand

in need of the assistance she now pretends to offer me. The woman looked

abashed, and though she seemed inclined to ask questions, was ashamed to

do so. This was that very servant who had so unceremoniously led me up

the back stairs when I went to visit her lady; but I appeared in a quite

different light to her now; I rang the bell, and ordered a footman to

_shew her the house_. She curtsied in silence, and withdrew.

What a poor creature is Lady Sarah! Mr Warner called upon me before her

woman went away. I told him the whole passage. Oh! how he chuckled, and

rejoiced, shrugging his shoulders, and rubbing his hands! He wanted to

see the servant, but I was afraid he would be too strong in his insults,

and turned him from the point.

He told me, he invited himself to dine with me; and accordingly he

favoured me with his company, and staid during the greatest part of the

evening. He is a man of a strong natural sense, though he is careless of

improving it. He has passed his life in business, and in acquiring

riches. He does not let me into the particulars of these, though he is

in other respects very communicative and entertaining. There is a

whimsical vein runs through his conversation. He now, for the first

time, desired me to give him the particulars of my life from my

childhood, which he had but a partial account of, at different times,

from myself. I took up the story at the earliest period of my life,

wherein any thing interesting had occurred, and traced every

circumstance minutely to the hour he first saw me.

I could easily see that he had a tender sympathizing heart, for he was

moved to tears more than once during my relation; nor was he ashamed of

them, for he suffered them to run down his cheek, whilst he listened

with mute attention to my story. He praised Mr Faulkland highly, said he

was a man after his own heart, and deserved the best woman in the world.

I wish you had married him, said he, such a princely fellow deserves a

princely fortune. He owned my brother had some reason to be nettled at

my refusal of such a man. Our sex, said he, have not such _chimæra_

notions as you women have; but still that does not excuse his

sordidness.

I took this opportunity of telling Mr Warner that my brother did not

really know the very great distress I was in, and that I had reason to

believe, from the general tenor of Lady Sarah's character, that she had

either concealed it from him, or made misrepresentations of my case;

doubtless she had not informed him to what streights I was reduced

immediately upon my mother's death; and who knows but Sir George, having

left me for a while to feel the effects of that resentment, with which

he had threatened me in his last letter, still meant to shew himself a

brother; for if he were ignorant, as I am willing to believe, of that

particular which I have mentioned, he could not suppose that I was

driven to absolute want; and from Lady Sarah's insinuations, perhaps he

thought that my mother left a sum of money behind her. He knew not of

the illness that my children and I were visited with; and indeed it

appears to me, from what he hinted to yourself, that he was quite

unacquainted with my situation.

To say the truth, Cecilia, as you know I am of a placable disposition, I

should be glad to be on good terms with my brother, the only relation

(my kinsman excepted) that I have in the world. I was willing therefore,

if possible, a little to reconcile Mr Warner to him; as I durst not,

without his permission, seek a reconciliation with Sir George.

There _may_ be something in what you say, coz, answered my friend;

perhaps he had a mind to let you bite on the bridle for a while, and I

am willing to suppose with you, that hereafter, may be, he would have

given you some dirty trifle; for a generous thing I am sure he is not

capable of, from his sordidness to me. I found this stuck most with the

good man. Oh, Sir, said I, but consider Lady Sarah's influence stepped

in _there_ too. My brother, you acknowlege, _was_ going to give you

something, 'till she interposed.--Half a crown, I suppose, said he: To

say the truth, I believe she is the worst of the two. She has a great

deal of pride. Sir, answered I; she has communicated some of it to my

brother; probably he was mortified and disconcerted at the sight of so

near a relation, in his wife's presence, whose exteriour appearance

could do him no credit; perhaps, had you applied privately to him, he

would have behaved better. You have not much worldly wisdom, replied my

cousin, to excuse him thus; however, I think the better of you for it,

whatever I may do of him. But speak honestly now, don't you want to be

friends with Sir George, that he and his wife may have an opportunity of

seeing you in all your finery? As I knew Mr Warner's temper, I was

resolved to humour him in it, and thought I could not give my desire of

seeing my brother a better turn than this, to one of my kinsman's

disposition. To deal with you openly, Sir, said I, I think our triumph

over Lady Sarah will not be complete, unless she herself is a witness of

that high fortune, of which she might have been a partaker, had it not

been for her own meanness of spirit. And to be sincere with you, my

Cecilia, I did think Lady Sarah deserved this mortification, though it

did not so far influence me as to make me desirous of being on terms

with her: as for my brother, I was governed by no other motive than

affection towards him.

Well, said Mr Warner, suppose you were to invite them both to dine with

you, and to have me at table, handsomely dressed out (for I can dress

fine when I please) and let them see that the man, who was not thought

worthy to sit down in their presence, they had better have used with

more ceremony. Oh, Sir, said I, that would be too severe an insult;

besides, I doubt whether my brother would come; you know he is angry

with me, and thinks he has reason. If you will permit me first to call

on my brother, when we are reconciled, I can afterwards ask both him and

his lady to my house; and though I am sure you have too much good nature

and politeness to shock them all at once, by violating the laws of

hospitality in this house, which your bounty has made mine, yet will you

have sufficient room for retaliation, by treating them, in your turn,

with neglect.

Thou art a milkly thing, answered Mr Warner; but as I am willing to

please you, you may do as you like; but by--, and he swore a tremendous

oath, they shall never have a cross from me.

_February 27_

Having obtained Mr Warner's consent, I went this day to my brother. He

was not at home; but I was introduced to Lady Sarah, for whom I

enquired. Poor woman! how she looked! My resentment was disarmed; and I

felt nothing but pity. Her confusion was so great, she knew not how to

receive me; she curtsied, without knowing what to say, or how to behave.

I would not embarrass her too far, but taking a chair by her, As you

favoured me with a message yesterday, Lady Sarah, said I, in as obliging

a tone as I could speak, I thought it a sisterly duty to wait on you and

Sir George: I hope my brother is well, I long to see him, and flatter

myself he will forget all former coldness, and again be my brother.

I spoke this long sentence on purpose to give her time to recover

herself. She rubbed her hand over her forehead, I believe to hide the

glow that was in her face from my first entrance: 'Lord, Mrs Arnold--I

am so surprized--this visit was so unexpected--I thought you were in the

country'--(her woman you know had been with me the day before, I passed

this by however) I have not been out of town at all, Madam, I was

detained by illness--'I am mighty sorry for it--I hope you are quite

recovered--pray, why did not you let me know you were ill?' As I had

heard nothing from you, Madam, after my first message, I was afraid that

the mediation, you were so kind as to promise me, had failed, and that

my brother's resentment was so great, he would not hear of me.

'Oh dear, that is true indeed--it was a sad affair--I mentioned you to

your brother when he came to town; but he was in _such_ a passion, I

durst not name you to him again.' (She durst not name me, observe that,

my dear; poor George, whom she governs with despotic sway). Then

probably, Madam, my brother knew not _all_ my distress? I protest I

don't know--said she--you know your brother is very warm, and whenever I

attempted to speak of you, he always stopped me short--so--I don't know

how it was; but I never could get to tell him your situation--I should

think I had great reason to resent my brother's cruelty, Madam, said I,

if he had known those particulars of which my maid informed _you_, but

since he did not, I will not reproach him; neither will I accuse your

ladyship of unkindness in concealing them from him. My sufferings are,

thank God! at an end, and I am now come to offer you, and Sir George,

my sisterly love; I hope he will not refuse me his love in return, I

have nothing else now to ask for. She blushed again, and seemed in great

confusion; 'You are very good, Mrs Arnold, we must forget and

forgive.'--Shall I not be permitted to see my brother, Madam? By the

message I received from you, I was in hopes you had prevailed on

him--The _poor_ woman was now struck dumb. She felt for her snuff-box,

and _would_ not find it in her pocket; but got up to look for it to gain

a little time; rumaged her toilet, and at last, took it out of her

pocket; offered me a pinch of snuff, then sat down again. Why, that

message, to tell you the truth, said she (forcing a conscious silly

smile) your brother knew nothing of; but not having heard from you in so

long a time, I was resolved to enquire after you; and was determined

myself, out of my own pin-money, to allow you what I could spare, till I

could get Sir George in better temper; but I made use of his name

because I thought you would more readily accept of any thing from him

than from me. Your brother thought you were actually in the country,

till we were surprized with the account of the _wonderful_ fortune that

has come to you lately. 'Then you _had_ heard of it, Madam, interrupted

I, before you sent to me?' an untoward question, my dear; it plunged her

again in the mud, and she flounced and floundered to get out, which only

sunk her the deeper. We had heard a strange flying report, said she, of

which I did not believe a word, and therefore sent Holmes (that is her

woman's name) to you to offer you my service.

I was not ill-natured enough, my Cecilia, to persist in embarrassing

this mean woman any farther, though the insincerity of her whole

behaviour, and the low falsities she had recourse to, very well deserved

reproof. I was glad to find my brother was not so culpable as he had at

first appeared; for I could easily discover from the whole tenor of her

discourse, she was so far from giving him any intimation of my distress,

that she had prevented him from enquiring after me, by telling him that

I was gone out of town; probably too with some aggravating

circumstances, either of a pretended neglect on my side towards them

both, or, perhaps, some other falshood still more injurious. It was very

apparent that she had sent her maid only as a spy, and, by way of

passport, with a sham offer of kindness, of which she knew I stood not

in need: and she depended on my pride and resentment so justly provoked,

for my never coming to any explanation either with her or my brother. No

wonder then she was so confounded at the sight of me, and the more so as

she apprehended I might reproach my brother, who could so well excuse

himself by pleading ignorance of my situation: and her conduct must then

appear so despicable to her husband, that hardy as she is, she would be

at a loss to justify it.

All this being very obvious to me, I determined to make her easy at

once. I shall think no more of what is past, Lady Sarah, said I, I only

wish to be on terms of friendship with my brother and you; and since he

knows not of the message you sent to me, I will not mention it to him,

nor any thing else that can recall past unkindness. I hope this visit

will be taken as it is meant, out of pure affection, and that you,

Madam, will be so kind as to make my peace with my brother; whom I am

very sorry I was under a necessity of disobliging; but as I never did

offend him, and I am sure never should but in that one instance, wherein

_I_ was so much more nearly interested than himself, I hope he will

think no more of it; but restore me to a share of his love, which is all

that is now wanting to my happiness.

This declaration (as I intended it should) entirely restored Lady

Sarah's tranquillity. Her countenance brightened up; I'll take upon me

to answer for Sir George, said she, that he _shall_ restore you to his

affection; I shall insist upon a general act of oblivion being passed on

his side, and I beg, sister, on your part, that you may not, by

reproaching your brother, revive the memory of your past coldness.

The weakest people are often very cunning; this caution of Lady Sarah's,

artfully enough introduced, conveyed an obvious meaning to me, very

different from her pretended reason; she was afraid of an

eclaircissement. I promised her I should meet my brother, whenever he

would permit me, as if nothing had ever happened to disturb our

friendship.

See, my dear, how this woman, do _durst_ not name me when I was poor,

took upon her now to _make_ her husband, whose anger had so much

intimidated her, subscribe intirely to her opinion: but I was now become

an object of attention; a finer house, and a finer equipage than her

ladyship's, gave me an indisputable title to that regard, to which, as a

_sister_, and in distress, I had not the least claim.

She now ventured to ask me some particulars relating to the very

extraordinary change in my fortune. I satisfied her minutely, not

without mentioning the cause of Mr Warner's having made me the _sole_

object of his bounty. Poor Lady Sarah could not conceal her vexation at

the thoughts of what she had lost by her ill-timed pride and parcimony.

A strange whimsical old mortal, she called him, to come upon them so

abruptly, and in such a scandalous garb, that Sir George was quite

ashamed of him. I am glad, however, Mrs Arnold, that he has made _you_

the better for him; I hope he will continue his fondness; but such odd

humourists are not to be depended on. Don't tell him, however, what I

say; I should be glad to shew him any civility in my power, for his

kindness to you.

I took my leave of her ladyship, with a cordial invitation to come and

see me; which she said she would not fail to do.

Mr Warner called on me for a few minutes in the evening to know the

result of my visit, as I had told him I intended to make it. I related

every thing that had passed between Lady Sarah and me; he enjoyed her

confusion as I described it; with a triumphant satisfaction, which

nothing but a very strong resentment could have excited in so

good-natured a man, as he really seems to be.

He has added to my store of china to-day (of which I have already an

abundance) a pair of most magnificent jars, above four feet high, which

he values at a hundred and fifty pounds; these, with an entire service

of the finest Nankeen china, and a most beautiful Persian carpet, I have

set apart as a present for Lady V----, and shall send them to her the

first opportunity.

I have also got him to bespeak a set of jewels to the amount of fifteen

hundred pounds, with which I intend to present Mrs Faulkland. This sum

will not exceed my debt to Mr Faulkland, if his agreement with Pivet

stands in force for the term prescribed.

Mr Warner, who mightily loves to be employed, has undertaken to get

these jewels made up for me in the most elegant taste.

This man's generosity is as inexhaustible as his riches; I fancy he is

still some way concerned in trade, though he does not tell me so. These

jars he said he had just received by the arrival of an East-India ship,

and I understand that his former dealings were extremely extensive: all

over the world, he said, where there was commerce, he put in for his

share.

_February 29_

Lady Sarah has returned my visit; she was not slow you see in her

ceremony. _So_ obliging, _so_ polite; every thing praised, and admired;

and _sister_ at every second word, and the children caressed, _Arnold's_

children. What a fine thing it is, my dear, to be independent! I shewed

her all my house; but not with ostentation. I thought it would have

looked affected not to have recommended so much wealth and elegance to

her notice. My sideboard she says is absolutely the handsomest she ever

saw; indeed both for workmanship and richness it does surpass any I have

seen.

She told me she had talked to my brother and that though he still

resented my obstinacy, as _he_ called it, yet as I had made such

advances towards a reconciliation, he was very ready to meet me, and

desired every thing might be forgotten on my side, as it should be on

his. He would have come to see you, added Lady Sarah, but as he does not

chuse to meet Mr Warner, he would rather that the first interview

between you were at his own house. I told her ladyship I would breakfast

with her the next morning, and we parted upon wonderful courteous

terms.--

_February 30_

Just returned from my brother's. Sir George received me with open arms,

and I returned the embrace with the utmost cordiality of affection.

Surely, my dear, there is something wonderfully powerful in the natural

affections; Sir George, spite of his resentment, his turbulence, and the

threats denounced against me, could not at sight of me, after an absence

of so many months, resist the first impulse of his heart, in giving me

strong tokens of brotherly love; though probably had he not seen me, the

latent tenderness might have lain for ever dormant in his heart.

I entered immediately on the topic of my extraordinary acquisition, as I

was determined not to lead to a subject which might bring on

explanations so much dreaded by Lady Sarah; and I could observe that my

brother avoided any thing tending that way as much as I did.

He congratulated me heartily on my good fortune, but said, between jest

and earnest, that if he could have divined his cousin Warner had come to

him to make experiments, he should have taken care to have treated him

better. But I don't know how it was, said he, he came in an evil hour;

and I was in an ill humour.

Lady Sarah kept up the conversation with a great deal of vivacity;

always taking care to keep us clear of the rock she was afraid of, till

a lady, with whom she was engaged to go to an auction, called to take

her up. Sir George would fain have detained me, but she insisted on my

going with her, to have _my_ judgment she said on the things she

intended to buy. It appeared to me that she did not chuse to leave my

brother and me together, for fear mutual confidence (in the fullness of

our hearts) might have brought her disingenuous proceedings to light;

but cunning people often over-act their parts; she was so extremely

pressing, that my brother could not but take notice of it. I acquiesced

to avoid giving her uneasiness; having first engaged my brother to dine

with me on Friday. Lady Sarah and he both consented, but premised that

Mr Warner was not to be of the party; this I ventured to promise, as I

was resolved if Mr Warner invited himself, which is his usual way, to

put him off by fairly telling him the truth, and trusting to his

good-nature for the consequence.

_March 2_

After the trivial incidents of these last two days, my Cecilia, now

hasten to more interesting particulars. But first a word or two of my

cousin Warner. I had not seen him since the day that my brother and I

met, till this morning; when he called to ask me how I did, and to know

how the puppy George, as he calls him, had behaved to me. After having

satisfied himself in this enquiry, in a way the most favourable I could

for my brother, I told him that as I had really found both him, and his

lady extremely penitent and mortified, I had asked them to dine with me

that day. I am glad of it, said he (very quick) I'll be here to snoutch

them. Dear Sir, said I, for heaven's sake have a little compassion; you

cannot conceive how humbled they are; they dare not look you in the

face, and it was one of their conditions with me, before they would

consent to come, that they should not see you. Ho, ho, said he,

exultingly, have they changed their Note? Well, I will not distress you

so far in your own house, as to mortify them with my company at dinner,

but if I should take it in my head to drop in, in the afternoon, you

must not take it amiss. I only want to see them look a little like

fools.

I could not venture to oppose him in this, but resolved to make it as

easy as possible by preparing my brother and sister for his visit.

I told him that would do extremely well, and he went away rejoicing at

the thoughts of his intended triumph.

Mr Warner had but just left me when I was surprized with a message that

Sir George was below. I went down to him directly, and seeing him in his

morning-dress, imagined that something had happened which prevented

their dining with me, and that he called to excuse himself; but he

undeceived me presently. As I had not an opportunity, said he, of asking

you any questions the other day, and shall be prevented probably in the

same manner this day, I am come to have an hour's chat with you before

dinner. And first pray inform me, Sidney, where you have lived ever

since my mother's death, and how it comes to pass that in all this time

you never took any notice of either Lady Sarah or me? As to your first

question, brother, it is easily answered, I have never been out of

London: for the rest, lest us avoid all retrospection, which can now

answer no end to either of us.

You surprize me, said he, I understood you had been in the country; Lady

Sarah told me that you were gone to Lady V----.

Memoirs of Miss Sidney Biddulph Extracted from her own Journal, and now first published · 第 25 / 34 题