The next morning, during breakfast, a servant acquainted Cecilia
that a young gentleman was in the hall, who begged to speak with
her. She desired he might be admitted; and Mrs Harrel, laughing, asked if she ought not to quit the room; while Mr Arnott, with even more than his usual gravity, directed his eye towards the door to watch who should enter.
Neither of them, however, received any satisfaction when it was
opened, for the gentleman who made his appearance was unknown to
both: but great was the amazement of Cecilia, though little her
emotion, when she saw Mr Morrice!
He came forward with an air of the most profound respect for the
company in general, and obsequiously advancing to Cecilia, made an
earnest enquiry into her health after her journey, and hoped she had
heard good news from her friends in the country.
Mrs Harrel, naturally concluding both from his visit and behaviour, that he was an acquaintance of some intimacy, very civilly offered him a seat and some breakfast, which, very frankly, he accepted. But Mr Arnott, who already felt the anxiety of a rising passion which was too full of veneration to be sanguine, looked at him with uneasiness, and waited his departure with impatience.
Cecilia began to imagine he had been commissioned to call upon her
with some message from Mr Monckton: for she knew not how to suppose
that merely and accidentally having spent an hour or two in the same
room with her, would authorize a visiting acquaintance. Mr Morrice, however, had a faculty the most happy of reconciling his pretensions to his inclination; and therefore she soon found that the pretence she had suggested appeared to him unnecessary. To lead, however, to the subject from which she expected his excuse, she enquired how long he had left Suffolk?
"But yesterday noon, ma'am," he answered, "or I should certainly
have taken the liberty to wait upon you before."
Cecilia, who had only been perplexing herself to devise some reason
why he came at all, now looked at him with a grave surprize, which
would totally have abashed a man whose courage had been less, or
whose expectations had been greater; but Mr Morrice, though he had
hazarded every danger upon the slightest chance of hope, knew too
well the weakness of his claims to be confident of success, and had
been too familiar with rebuffs to be much hurt by receiving them. He
might possibly have something to gain, but he knew he had nothing to
lose.
"I had the pleasure," he continued, "to leave all our friends well, except poor Lady Margaret, and she has had an attack of the asthma; yet she would not have a physician, though Mr Monckton would fain have persuaded her: however, I believe the old lady knows better things." And he looked archly at Cecilia: but perceiving that the insinuation gave her nothing but disgust, he changed his tone, and added, "It is amazing how well they live together; nobody would imagine the disparity in their years. Poor old lady! Mr Monckton will really have a great loss of her when she dies."
"A loss of her!" repeated Mrs Harrel, "I am sure she is an exceeding
ill-natured old woman. When I lived at Bury, I was always frightened
out of my wits at the sight of her."
"Why indeed, ma'am," said Morrice, "I must own her appearance is
rather against her: I had myself a great aversion to her at first
sight. But the house is chearful,—very chearful; I like to spend a
few days there now and then of all things. Miss Bennet, too, is
agreeable enough, and——"
"Miss Bennet agreeable!" cried Mrs Harrel, "I think she's the most
odious creature I ever knew in my life; a nasty, spiteful old maid!"
"Why indeed, ma'am, as you say," answered Morrice, "she is not very
young; and as to her temper, I confess I know very little about it; and Mr Monckton is likely enough to try it, for he is pretty severe."
"Mr Monckton," cried Cecilia, extremely provoked at hearing him
censured by a man she thought highly honoured in being permitted to
approach him, "whenever I have been his guest, has merited
from me nothing but praise and gratitude."