Unable to relieve herself from this perplexity, Cecilia, to divert her
chagrin, again visited Miss Belfield. She had then the pleasure to
hear that her brother was much recovered, and had been able, the
preceding day, to take an airing, which he had borne so well that Mr
Rupil had charged him to use the same exercise every morning.
"And will he?" said Cecilia.
"No, madam, I am sadly afraid not," she answered, "for coach hire is
very expensive, and we are willing, now, to save all we can in order
to help fitting him out for going abroad."
Cecilia then earnestly entreated her to accept some assistance; but
she assured her she did not dare without the consent of her mother, which, however, she undertook to obtain.
The next day, when Cecilia called to hear her success, Mrs Belfield, who hitherto had kept out of sight, made her appearance. She found her, alike in person, manners and conversation, a coarse and ordinary woman, not more unlike her son in talents and acquired accomplishments, than dissimilar to her daughter in softness and natural delicacy.
The moment Cecilia was seated, she began, without waiting for any
ceremony, or requiring any solicitation, abruptly to talk of her
affairs, and repiningly to relate her misfortunes.
"I find, madam," she said, "you have been so kind as to visit my
daughter Henny a great many times, but as I have no time for company, I have always kept out of the way, having other things to do than sit still to talk. I have had a sad time of it here, ma'am, with my poor son's illness, having no conveniencies about me, and much ado to make him mind me; for he's all for having his own way, poor dear soul, and I'm sure I don't know who could contradict him, for it's what I never had the heart to do. But then, ma'am, what is to come of it? You see how bad things go! for though I have got a very good income, it won't do for every thing. And if it was as much again, I should want to save it all now. For here my poor son, you see, is reduced all in a minute, as one may say, from being one of the first gentlemen in the town, to a mere poor object, without a farthing in the world!"
"He is, however, I hope now much better in his health?" said Cecilia.
"Yes, madam, thank heaven, for if he was worse, those might tell of it
that would, for I'm sure I should never live to hear of it. He has
been the best son in the world, madam, and used [to] nothing but the
best company, for I spared neither pains nor cost to bring him up
genteely, and I believe there's not a nobleman in the land that looks
more the gentleman. However, there's come no good of it, for though
his acquaintances was all among the first quality, he never received
the value of a penny from the best of them. So I have no great need to
be proud. But I meant for the best, though I have often enough wished
I had not meddled in the matter, but left him to be brought up in the
shop, as his father was before him."
"His present plan, however," said Cecilia, "will I hope make you ample
amends both for your sufferings and your tenderness."
"What, madam, when he's going to leave me, and settle in foreign
parts? If you was a mother yourself, madam, you would not think that
such good amends."
"Settle?" said Cecilia. "No, he only goes for a year or two."
"That's more than I can say, madam, or any body else; and nobody knows
what may happen in that time. And how I shall keep myself up when he's
beyond seas, I am sure I don't know, for he has always been the pride
of my life, and every penny I saved for him, I thought to have been
paid in pounds."
"You will still have your daughter, and she seems so amiable, that I
am sure you can want no consolation she will not endeavour to give
you."
"But what is a daughter, madam, to such a son as mine? a son that I
thought to have seen living like a prince, and sending his own coach
for me to dine with him! And now he's going to be taken away from me, and nobody knows if I shall live till he comes back. But I may thank myself, for if I had but been content to see him brought up in the shop—yet all the world would have cried shame upon it, for when he was quite a child in arms, the people used all to say he was born to be a gentleman, and would live to make many a fine lady's heart ache."
"If he can but make your heart easy," said Cecilia, smiling, "we will not grieve that the fine ladies should escape the prophecy."