Never had the heart of Cecilia felt so light, so gay, so glowing as
after the transaction of this affair: her life had never appeared to
her so important, nor her wealth so valuable. To see five helpless
children provided for by herself, rescued from the extremes of
penury and wretchedness, and put in a way to become useful to
society, and comfortable to themselves; to behold their feeble
mother, snatched from the hardship of that labour which, over-powering her strength, had almost destroyed her existence, now placed in a situation where a competent maintenance might be earned without fatigue, and the remnant of her days pass in easy employment—to view such sights, and have power to say "These deeds are mine!" what, to a disposition fraught with tenderness and benevolence, could give purer self-applause, or more exquisite satisfaction?
Such were the pleasures which regaled the reflections of Cecilia
when, in her way home, having got out of her chair to walk through
the upper part of Oxford Street, she was suddenly met by the old
gentleman whose emphatical addresses to her had so much excited her
astonishment.
He was passing quick on, but stopping the moment he perceived her, he sternly called out "Are you proud? are you callous? are you hard of heart so soon?"
"Put me, if you please, to some trial!" cried Cecilia, with the
virtuous courage of a self-acquitting conscience.
"I already have!" returned he, indignantly, "and already I have
found you faulty!"
"I am sorry to hear it," said the amazed Cecilia, "but at least I
hope you will tell me in what?"
"You refused me admittance," he answered, "yet I was your friend, yet I was willing to prolong the term of your genuine [tranquillity]! I pointed out to you a method of preserving peace with your own soul; I came to you in behalf of the poor, and instructed you how to merit their prayers; you heard me, you were susceptible, you complied! I meant to have repeated the lesson, to have tuned your whole heart to compassion, and to have taught you the sad duties of sympathising humanity. For this purpose I called again, but again I was not admitted! Short was the period of my absence, yet long enough for the completion of your downfall!"
"Good heaven," cried Cecilia, "how dreadful is this language! when
have you called, Sir? I never heard you had been at the house. Far
from refusing you admittance, I wished to see you."
"Indeed?" cried he, with some softness, "and are you, in truth, not
proud? not callous? not hard of heart? Follow me, then, and visit
the humble and the poor, follow me, and give comfort to the fallen
and dejected!"
At this invitation, however desirous to do good, Cecilia started; the strangeness of the inviter, his flightiness, his authoritative manner, and the uncertainty whither or to whom he might carry her, made her fearful of proceeding: yet a benevolent curiosity to see as well as serve the objects of his recommendation, joined to the eagerness of youthful integrity to clear her own character from the aspersion of hard-heartedness, soon conquered her irresolution, and making a sign to her servant to keep near her, she followed as her conductor led.
He went on silently and solemnly till he came to Swallow-street, then turning into it, he stopt at a small and mean-looking house, knocked at the door, and without asking any question of the man who opened it, beckoned her to come after him, and hastened up some narrow winding stairs.
Cecilia again hesitated; but when she recollected that this old man, though little known, was frequently seen, and though with few people acquainted, was by many personally recognized, she thought it impossible he could mean her any injury. She ordered her servant, however, to come in, and bid him keep walking up and down the stairs till she returned to him. And then she obeyed the directions of her guide.
He proceeded till he came to the second floor, then, again beckoning
her to follow him, he opened a door, and entered a small and very
meanly furnished apartment.
And here, to her infinite astonishment, she perceived, employed in
washing some china, a very lovely young woman, [genteelly] dressed, and appearing hardly seventeen years of age.
The moment they came in, with evident marks of confusion, she
instantly gave over her work, hastily putting the basin she was
washing upon the table, and endeavouring to hide the towel with
which she was wiping it behind her chair.
