Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress — Volume 1

by Fanny Burney

  CHAPTER vi

  A MAN OF GENIUS.

  The next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, Cecilia went in a chairto Swallow-street; she enquired for Miss Belfield, and was told to go upstairs: but what was her amazement to meet, just coming out of the roominto which she was entering, young Delvile!

  They both started, and Cecilia, from the seeming strangeness ofher situation, felt a confusion with which she had hitherto beenunacquainted. But Delvile, presently recovering from his surprise, saidto her, with an expressive smile, "How good is Miss Beverley thus tovisit the sick! and how much better might I have had the pleasure ofseeing Mr Belfield, had I but, by prescience, known her design, anddeferred my own enquiries till he had been revived by hers!"

  And then, bowing and wishing her good morning, he glided past her.

  Cecilia, notwithstanding the openness and purity of her intentions, wasso much disconcerted by this unexpected meeting, and pointed speech,that she had not the presence of mind to call him back and clearherself: and the various interrogatories and railleries which hadalready passed between them upon the subject of Mr Belfield, madeher suppose that what he had formerly suspected he would now thinkconfirmed, and conclude that all her assertions of indifference,proceeded merely from that readiness at hypocrisy upon particularsubjects, of which he had openly accused her whole Sex.

  This circumstance and this apprehension took from her for a while allinterest in the errand upon which she came; but the benevolence of herheart soon brought it back, when, upon going into the room, she saw hernew favourite in tears.

  "What is the matter?" cried she, tenderly; "no new affliction I hope hashappened? Your brother is not worse?"

  "No, madam, he is much the same; I was not then crying for him."

  "For what then? tell me, acquaint me with your sorrows, and assureyourself you tell them to a friend."

  "I was crying, madam, to find so much goodness in the world, when Ithought there was so little! to find I have some chance of being againhappy, when I thought I was miserable for ever! Two whole years have Ispent in nothing but unhappiness, and I thought there was nothing elseto be had; but yesterday, madam, brought me you, with every promiseof nobleness and protection; and to-day, a friend of my brother's hasbehaved so generously, that even my brother has listened to him, andalmost consented to be obliged to him!"

  "And have you already known so much sorrow," said Cecilia, "that thislittle dawn of prosperity should wholly overpower your spirits? Gentle,amiable girl! may the future recompense you for the past, and may MrAlbany's kind wishes be fulfilled in the reciprocation of our comfortand affection!"

  They then entered into a conversation which the sweetness of Cecilia,and the gratitude of Miss Belfield, soon rendered interesting, friendlyand unreserved: and in a very short time, whatever was essential inthe story or situation of the latter was fully communicated. She gave,however, a charge the most earnest, that her brother should never beacquainted with the confidence she had made.

  Her father, who had been dead only two years, was a linen-draper in thecity; he had six daughters, of whom herself was the youngest, and onlyone son. This son, Mr Belfield, was alike the darling of his father,mother, and sisters: he was brought up at Eton, no expence was sparedin his education, nothing was denied that could make him happy. Withan excellent understanding he had uncommon quickness of parts, and hisprogress in his studies was rapid and honourable: his father, thoughhe always meant him for his successor in his business, heard of hisimprovement with rapture, often saying, "My boy will be the ornament ofthe city, he will be the best scholar in any shop in London."

  He was soon, however, taught another lesson; when, at the age ofsixteen, he returned home, and was placed in the shop, instead ofapplying his talents, as his father had expected, to trade, he bothdespised and abhorred the name of it; when serious, treating it withcontempt, when gay, with derision.

  He was seized, also, with a most ardent desire to finish his education,like those of his school-fellows who left Eton at the same time, at oneof the Universities; and, after many difficulties, this petition, at theintercession of his mother, was granted, old Mr Belfield telling himhe hoped a little more learning would give him a little more sense, andthat when he became a _finished student_, he would not only know thetrue value of business, but understand how to get money, and make abargain, better than any man whatsoever within Temple Bar.

  These expectations, equally shortsighted, were also equally fallaciouswith the former: the son again returned, and returned, as his fatherhad hoped, a _finished student_; but, far from being more tractable,or better disposed for application to trade, his aversion to it now wasmore stubborn, and his opposition more hardy than ever. The young menof fashion with whom he had formed friendships at school, or at theUniversity, and with whom, from the indulgence of his father, he wasalways able to vie in expence, and from the indulgence of Nature toexcel in capacity, earnestly sought the continuance of his acquaintance,and courted and coveted the pleasure of his conversation: but though hewas now totally disqualified for any other society, he lost all delightin their favour from the fear they should discover his abode, andsedulously endeavoured to avoid even occasionally meeting them, lest anyof his family should at the same time approach him: for of his family,though wealthy, worthy, and independent, he was now so utterly ashamed,that the mortification the most cruel he could receive, was to be askedhis address, or told he should be visited.

  Tired, at length, of evading the enquiries made by some, and forcingfaint laughs at the detection made by others, he privately took alodging at the west end of the town, to which he thence forward directedall his friends, and where, under various pretences, he contrived tospend the greatest part of his time.

  In all his expensive deceits and frolics, his mother was hisnever-failing confidant and assistant; for when she heard that thecompanions of her son were men of fashion, some born to titles, othersdestined to high stations, she concluded he was in the certain roadto honour and profit, and frequently distressed herself, withoutever repining, in order to enable him to preserve upon equal terms,connections which she believed so conducive to his future grandeur.

  In this wild and unsettled manner he passed some time, strugglingincessantly against the authority of his father, privately abetted byhis mother, and constantly aided and admired by his sisters: till, sickof so desultory a way of life, he entered himself a volunteer in thearmy.

  How soon he grew tired of this change has already been related,[Footnote: Book 1, Chap. II.] as well as his reconciliation with hisfather, and his becoming a student at the Temple: for the father nowgrew as weary of opposing, as the young man of being opposed.

  Here, for two or three years, he lived in happiness uninterrupted; heextended his acquaintance among the great, by whom he was no soonerknown than caressed and admired, and he frequently visited his family,which, though he blushed to own in public, he affectionately lovedin private. His profession, indeed, was but little in his thoughts,successive engagements occupying almost all his hours. Delighted withthe favour of the world, and charmed to find his presence seemed thesignal for entertainment, he soon forgot the uncertainty of his fortune,and the inferiority of his rank: the law grew more and more fatiguing,pleasure became more and more alluring, and, by degrees, he had not aday unappropriated to some party or amusement; voluntarily consigningthe few leisure moments his gay circle afforded him, to the indulgenceof his fancy in some hasty compositions in verse, which were handedabout in manuscript, and which contributed to keep him in fashion.

  Such was his situation at the death of his father; a new scene was thenopened to him, and for some time he hesitated what course to pursue.

  Old Mr Belfield, though he lived in great affluence, left not behind himany considerable fortune, after the portions of his daughters, to eachof whom he bequeathed L2000, had been deducted from it. But his stock intrade was great, and his business was prosperous and lucrative.

  His son, however, did not merely w
ant application and fortitude tobecome his successor, but skill and knowledge; his deliberation,therefore, was hasty, and his resolution improvident; he determined tocontinue at the Temple himself, while the shop, which he could by nomeans afford to relinquish, should be kept up by another name, and thebusiness of it be transacted by an agent; hoping thus to secure andenjoy its emoluments, without either the trouble or the humiliation ofattendance.

  But this scheme, like most others that have their basis in vanity, endedin nothing but mortification and disappointment: the shop which underold Mr. Belfield had been flourishing and successful, and enrichedhimself and all his family, could now scarce support the expences ofan individual. Without a master, without that diligent attention toits prosperity which the interest of possession alone can give, and theauthority of a principal alone can enforce, it quickly lost its famefor the excellence of its goods, and soon after its customers fromthe report of its declension. The produce, therefore, diminished everymonth; he was surprised, he was provoked; he was convinced he wascheated, and that his affairs were neglected; but though he threatenedfrom time to time to enquire into the real state of the business, andinvestigate the cause of its decay, he felt himself inadequate to thetask; and now first lamented that early contempt of trade, which bypreventing him acquiring some knowledge of it while he had youth andopportunity, made him now ignorant what redress to seek, though certainof imposition and injury.

  But yet, however disturbed by alarming suggestions in his hours ofretirement, no alteration was made in the general course of his life; hewas still the darling of his friends, and the leader in all parties, andstill, though his income was lessened, his expences encreased.

  Such were his circumstances at the time Cecilia first saw him at thehouse of Mr. Monckton: from which, two days after her arrival in town,he was himself summoned, by an information that his agent had suddenlyleft the kingdom.

  The fatal consequence of this fraudulent elopement was immediatebankruptcy.

  His spirits, however, did not yet fail him; as he had never been thenominal master of the shop, he escaped all dishonour from its ruin, andwas satisfied to consign what remained to the mercy of the creditors, sothat his own name should not appear in the _Gazette_.

  Three of his sisters were already extremely well married to reputabletradesmen; the two elder of those who were yet single were settled withtwo of those who were married, and Henrietta, the youngest, residedwith her mother, who had a comfortable annuity, and a small house atPadington.

  Bereft thus through vanity and imprudence of all the long labours of hisfather, he was now compelled to think seriously of some actual method ofmaintenance; since his mother, though willing to sacrifice to him eventhe nourishment which sustained her, could do for him but little, andthat little he had too much justice to accept. The law, even to the mostdiligent and successful, is extremely slow of profit, and whatever,from his connections and abilities might be hoped hereafter, at presentrequired an expence which he was no longer able to support.

  It remained then to try his influence with his friends among the greatand the powerful.

  His canvas proved extremely honourable; every one promised something,and all seemed delighted to have an opportunity of serving him.

  Pleased with finding the world so much better than report had made it,he now saw the conclusion of his difficulties in the prospect of a placeat court.

  Belfield, with half the penetration with which he was gifted, would haveseen in any other man the delusive idleness of expectations no betterfounded; but though discernment teaches us the folly of others,experience singly can teach us our own! he flattered himself that hisfriends had been more wisely selected than the friends of those who insimilar circumstances had been beguiled, and he suspected not the fraudof his vanity, till he found his invitations daily slacken, and that histime was at his own command.

  All his hopes now rested upon one friend and patron,

  Mr Floyer, an uncle of Sir Robert Floyer, a man of power in the royalhousehold, with whom he had lived in great intimacy, and who at thisperiod had the disposal of a place which he solicited. The only obstaclethat seemed in his way was from Sir Robert himself, who warmly exertedhis interest in favour of a friend of his own. Mr Floyer, however,assured Belfield of the preference, and only begged his patience till hecould find some opportunity of appeasing his nephew.

  And this was the state of his affairs at the time of his quarrel at theOpera-house. Already declared opponents of each other, Sir Robert feltdouble wrath that for _him_ Cecilia should reject his civilities; whileBelfield, suspecting he presumed upon his known dependence on his uncleto affront him, felt also double indignation at the haughtiness of hisbehaviour. And thus, slight as seemed to the world the cause of theircontest, each had private motives of animosity that served to stimulaterevenge.

  The very day after this duel, Mr Floyer wrote him word that he was nowobliged in common decency to take the part of his nephew, and thereforehad already given the place to the friend he had recommended.

  This was the termination of his hopes, and the signal of his ruin! Tothe pain of his wound he became insensible, from the superior pain ofthis unexpected miscarriage; yet his pride still enabled him to disguisehis distress, and to see all the friends whom this accident induced toseek him, while from the sprightliness he forced in order to concealhis anguish, he appeared to them more lively and more entertaining thanever.

  But these efforts, when left to himself and to nature, only sunk him thedeeper in sadness; he found an immediate change in his way of life wasnecessary, yet could not brook to make it in sight of those with whom hehad so long lived in all the brilliancy of equality. A high principleof honour which still, in the midst of his gay career, had remaineduncorrupted, had scrupulously guarded him from running in debt, andtherefore, though of little possessed, that little was strictly his own.He now published that he was going out of town for the benefit ofpurer air, discharged his surgeon, took a gay leave of his friends, andtrusting no one with his secret but his servant, was privately conveyedto mean and cheap lodgings in Swallow-street.

  Here, shut up from every human being he had formerly known, he purposedto remain till he grew better, and then again to seek his fortune in thearmy.

  His present situation, however, was little calculated to contribute tohis recovery; the dismission of the surgeon, the precipitation of hisremoval, the inconveniencies of his lodgings, and the unseasonabledeprivation of long customary indulgencies, were unavoidable delays ofhis amendment; while the mortification of his present disgrace, and thebitterness of his late disappointment, preyed incessantly upon his mind,robbed him of rest, heightened his fever, and reduced him by degrees toa state so low and dangerous, that his servant, alarmed for his life,secretly acquainted his mother with his illness and retreat.

  The mother, almost distracted by this intelligence, instantly, with herdaughter, flew to his lodgings. She wished to have taken him immediatelyto her house at Padington, but he had suffered so much from his firstremoval, that he would not consent to another. She would then havecalled in a physician, but he refused even to see one; and she had toolong given way to all his desires and opinions, to have now the force ofmind for exerting the requisite authority of issuing her orders withoutconsulting him.

  She begged, she pleaded, indeed, and Henrietta joined in her entreaties;but sickness and vexation had not rendered him tame, though they hadmade him sullen: he resisted their prayers, and commonly silenced themby assurances that their opposition to the plan he had determined topursue, only inflamed his fever, and retarded his recovery.

  The motive of an obduracy so cruel to his friends was the fear of adetection which he thought not merely prejudicial to his affairs, butdishonourable to his character: for, without betraying any symptom ofhis distress, he had taken a general leave of his acquaintance uponpretence of going out of town, and he could ill endure to make adiscovery which would at once proclaim his degradation and his deceit.

  Mr. Al
bany had accidentally broken in upon him, by mistaking his roomfor that of another sick person in the same house, to whom his visit hadbeen intended; but as he knew and reverenced that old gentleman, he didnot much repine at his intrusion.

  He was not so easy when the same discovery was made by young Delvile,who, chancing to meet his servant in the street, enquired concerning hismaster's health, and surprising from him its real state, followed himhome; where, soon certain of the change in his affairs by the change ofhis habitation, he wrote him a letter, in which, after apologizing forhis freedom, he warmly declared that nothing could make him so happyas being favoured with his commands, if, either through himself or hisfriends, he could be so fortunate as to do him any service.

  Belfield, deeply mortified at this detection of his situation, returnedonly a verbal answer of cold thanks, and desired he would not speak ofhis being in town, as he was not well enough to be seen.

  This reply gave almost equal mortification to young Delvile, whocontinued, however, to call at the door with enquiries how he went on,though he made no further attempt to see him.

  Belfield, softened at length by the kindness of this conduct, determinedto admit him; and he was just come from paying his first visit, when hewas met by Cecilia upon the stairs.

  His stay with him had been short, and he had taken no notice either ofhis change of abode, or his pretence of going into the country; he hadtalked to him only in general terms, and upon general subjects, till hearose to depart, and then he re-urged his offers of service with somuch openness and warmth, that Belfield, affected by his earnestness,promised he would soon see him again, and intimated to his delightedmother and sister, that he would frankly consult with him upon hisaffairs.

  Such was the tale which, with various minuter circumstances, MissBelfield communicated to Cecilia. "My mother," she added, "who neverquits him, knows that you are here, madam, for she heard me talking withsomebody yesterday, and she made me tell her all that had passed, andthat you said you would come again this morning."

  Cecilia returned many acknowledgments for this artless and unreservedcommunication, but could not, when it was over, forbear enquiring bywhat early misery she had already, though so very young, spent _twoyears in nothing but unhappiness_?

  "Because," she answered, "when my poor father died all our familyseparated, and I left every body to go and live with my mother atPadington; and I was never a favourite with my mother--no more, indeed,was any body but my brother, for she thinks all the rest of the worldonly made for his sake. So she used to deny both herself and me almostcommon necessaries, in order to save up money to make him presents:though, if he had known how it was done, he would only have been angryinstead of taking them. However, I should have regarded nothing that hadbut been for his benefit, for I loved him a great deal more than myown convenience; but sums that would distress us for months to save up,would by him be spent in a day, and then thought of no more! Nor wasthat all--O no! I had much greater uneasiness to suffer; for I wasinformed by one of my brothers-in-law how ill every thing went, and thatcertain ruin would come to my poor brother from the treachery of hisagent; and the thought of this was always preying upon my mind, forI did not dare tell it my mother, for fear it should put her out ofhumour, for, sometimes, she is not very patient; and it mattered littlewhat any of us said to my brother, for he was too gay and too confidentto believe his danger."

  "Well but," said Cecilia, "I hope, now, all will go better; if yourbrother will consent to see a physician--"

  "Ah, madam! that is the thing I fear he never will do, because of beingseen in these bad lodgings. I would kneel whole days to prevail withhim, but he is unused to controul, and knows not how to submit to it;and he has lived so long among the great, that he forgets he was notborn as high as themselves. Oh that he had never quitted his ownfamily! If he had not been spoilt by ambition, he had the best heart andsweetest disposition in the world. But living always with his superiors,taught him to disdain his own relations, and be ashamed of us all; andyet now, in the hour of his distress--who else comes to help him?"

  Cecilia then enquired if she wanted not assistance for herself and hermother, observing that they did not seem to have all the convenienciesto which they were entitled.

  "Why indeed, madam," she replied, with an ingenuous smile, "when youfirst came here I was a little like my brother, for I was sadly ashamedto let you see how ill we lived! but now you know the worst, so I shallfret about it no more."

  "But this cannot be your usual way of life; I fear the misfortunes of MrBelfield have spread a ruin wider than his own."

  "No indeed; he took care from the first not to involve us in hishazards, for he is very generous, madam, and very noble in all hisnotions, and could behave to us all no better about money matters thanhe has ever done. But from the moment we came to this dismal place,and saw his distress, and that he was sunk so low who used always to behigher than any of us, we had a sad scene indeed! My poor mother, whosewhole delight was to think that he lived like a nobleman, and who alwaysflattered herself that he would rise to be as great as the company hekept, was so distracted with her disappointment, that she would notlisten to reason, but immediately discharged both our servants, said sheand I should do all the work ourselves, hired this poor room for us tolive in, and sent to order a bill to be put upon her house at Padington,for she said she would never return to it any more."

  "But are you, then," cried Cecilia, "without any servant?"

  "We have my brother's man, madam, and so he lights our fires, and takesaway some of our litters; and there is not much else to be done, exceptsweeping the rooms, for we eat nothing but cold meat from the cookshops."

  "And how long is this to last?"

  "Indeed I cannot tell; for the real truth is, my poor mother hasalmost lost her senses; and ever since our coming here, she has been somiserable and so complaining, that indeed, between her and my brother,I have almost lost mine too! For when she found all her hopes at anend, and that her darling son, instead of being rich and powerful, andsurrounded by friends and admirers, all trying who should do the mostfor him, was shut up by himself in this poor little lodging, andinstead of gaining more, had spent all he was worth at first, with nota creature to come near him, though ill, though confined, though keepinghis bed!--Oh madam, had you seen my poor mother when she first cast hereyes upon him in that condition!--indeed you could never have forgottenit!"

  "I wonder not at her disappointment," cried Cecilia; "with expectationsso sanguine, and a son of so much merit, it might well indeed bebitter."

  "Yes, and besides the disappointment, she is now continually reproachingherself for always complying with his humours, and assisting him toappear better than the rest of his family, though my father neverapproved her doing so. But she thought herself so sure of his rising,that she believed we should all thank her for it in the end. And shealways used to say that he was born to be a gentleman, and what agrievous thing it would be to have him made a tradesman."

  "I hope, at least, she has not the additional misery of seeing himungrateful for her fondness, however injudicious it may have been?"

  "O no! he does nothing but comfort and cheer her! and indeed it isvery good of him, for he has owned to me in private, that but for herencouragement, he could not have run the course he has run, for heshould have been obliged to enter into business, whether he had liked itor not. But my poor mother knows this, though he will not tell it her,and therefore she says that unless he gets well, she will punish herselfall the rest of her life, and never go back to her house, and never hireanother servant, and never eat any thing but bread, nor drink any thingbut water!"

  "Poor unhappy woman!" cried Cecilia, "how dearly does she pay for herimprudent and short-sighted indulgence! but surely you are not also tosuffer in the same manner?"

  "No, madam, not by her fault, for she wants me to go and live with oneof my sisters: but I would not quit her for the world; I should thinkmyself wicked indeed to leave her now. Besides, I don't
at all repine atthe little hardships I go through at present, because my poor brother isin so much distress, that all we save may be really turned to account;but when we lived so hardly only to procure him luxuries he had no rightto, I must own I used often to think it unfair, and if I had not lovedhim dearly, I should not have borne it so well, perhaps, as I ought."

  Cecilia now began to think it high time to release her new acquaintanceby quitting her, though she felt herself so much interested in heraffairs, that every word she spoke gave her a desire to lengthen theconversation. She ardently wished to make her some present, but wasrestrained by the fear of offending, or of being again refused; she had,however, devised a private scheme for serving her more effectually thanby the donation of a few guineas, and therefore, after earnestly beggingto hear from her if she could possibly be of any use, she told her thatshe should not find her confidence misplaced, and promising again to seeher soon, reluctantly departed.