But Delvile, penetrated and tortured, yet delighted at this sensibility, broke from his mother, and seizing her hand, exclaimed, "Oh Miss Beverley, if you are not happy---"
"I am! I am!" cried she, with quickness; "let me pass,--and think no more of me."
"That voice,--those looks,--" cried he, still holding her, "they speak not serenity!--Oh if I have injured your peace,--if that heart, which, pure as angels, deserves to be as sacred from sorrow, through my means, or for my sake, suffers any diminution of tranquility--"
"None, none!" interrupted she, with precipitation.
"I know well," cried he, "your greatness of soul; and if this dreadful sacrifice gives lasting torture only to myself,--if of your returning happiness I could be assured,--I would struggle to bear it."
"You may, be assured of it," cried she, with reviving dignity, "I have no right to expect escaping all calamity, but while I share the common lot, I will submit to it without repining."
"Heaven then bless, and hovering angels watch you!" cried he, and letting go her hand, he ran hastily out of the room.
"Oh Virtue, how bright is thy triumph!" exclaimed Mrs Delvile, flying up to Cecilia, and folding her in her arms; "Noble, incomparable young creature! I knew not that so much worth was compatible with human frailty!"
But the heroism of Cecilia, in losing its object, lost its force; she sighed, she could not speak, tears gushed into her eyes, and kissing Mrs Delvile's hand with a look that shewed her inability to converse with her, she hastened, though scarce able to support herself, away, with intention to shut herself up in her own apartment: and Mrs Delvile, who perceived that her utmost fortitude was exhausted, opposed not her going, and wisely forbore to encrease her emotion, by following her even with her blessings.
But when she came into the hall, she started, and could proceed no further; for there she beheld Delvile, who in too great agony to be seen, had stopt to recover some composure before he quitted the house.
At the first sound of an opening door, he was hastily escaping; but perceiving Cecilia, and discerning her situation, he more hastily turned back, saying, "Is it possible?--To me were you coming?"
She shook her head, and made a motion with her hand to say no, and would then have gone on.
"You are weeping!" cried he, "you are pale!--Oh Miss Beverley! is this your happiness!"
"I am very well,--" cried she, not knowing what she answered, "I am quite well,--pray go,--I am very--" her words died away inarticulated.