As soon as the rehearsal was over, the gentlemen of Mrs Harrel's party crowded before her box; and Cecilia then perceived that the person whose musical enthusiasm had excited her curiosity, was the same old gentleman whose extraordinary behaviour had so much surprized her at the house of Mr Monckton. Her desire to obtain some information concerning him again reviving, she was beginning to make fresh enquiries, when she was interrupted by the approach of Captain Aresby.
That gentleman, advancing to her with a smile of the extremest self- complacency, after hoping, in a low voice, he had the honour of seeing her well, exclaimed, "How wretchedly empty is the town! petrifying to a degree! I believe you do not find yourself at present obsede by too much company?"
"At present, I believe the contrary!" cried Mr Gosport.
"Really!" said the Captain, unsuspicious of his sneer, "I protest I have hardly seen a soul. Have you tried the Pantheon yet, ma'am?"
"No, sir."
"Nor I; I don't know whether people go there this year. It is not a favourite spectacle with me; that sitting to hear the music is a horrid bore. Have you done the Festino the honour to look in there yet?"
"No, sir."
"Permit me, then, to have the honour to beg you will try it."
"O, ay, true," cried Mrs Harrel; "I have really used you very ill about that; I should have got you in for a subscriber: but Lord, I have done nothing for you yet, and you never put me in mind. There's the ancient music, and Abel's concert;--as to the opera, we may have a box between us;--but there's the ladies' concert we must try for; and there's--O Lord, fifty other places we must think of!"
"Oh times of folly and dissipation!" exclaimed a voice at some distance; "Oh mignons of idleness and luxury! What next will ye invent for the perdition of your time! How yet further will ye proceed in the annihilation of virtue!"
Everybody stared; but Mrs Harrel coolly said, "Dear, it's only the man-hater!"
"The man-hater?" repeated Cecilia, who found that the speech was made by the object of her former curiosity; "is that the name by which he is known?"
"He is known by fifty names," said Mr Monckton; "his friends call him the moralist; the young ladies, the crazy-man; the macaronies, the bore; in short, he is called by any and every name but his own."
"He is a most petrifying wretch, I assure you," said the Captain; "I am obsede by him partout; if I had known he had been so near, I should certainly have said nothing."