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"Ah Delvile!" she cried, co for surprize? and nothing for the hard conflict of endeavouring to suppress it? do you think me still as unfit to advise with, and as worthless, as feeble a counsellor, as during the first confusion of my mind?"

"Hurry not your tender spirits, I beseech you," cried he, "we have tih; ill talk about business by and by"

"What time?" cried she, "what is it now o'clock?"

"Good Heaven!" cried he, looking at his watch, "already past ten! you must turn h poor Monckton is quiet"

"I will turn you out," cried she, "I aone But tell o?"

"That;" he answered, "you shall decide for me yourself: whether to Delvile Castle, to finish one tale, and wholly coate, to hasten my mother abroad, before the news of this calaerly, "set off this very moment! you can write to your father from Ostend But continue, I conjure you, on the continent, till we see if this unhappy e, what must follow if he should not!"

"A trial," said he, "o, I fear, but hardly with e was mine; his servants can all witness I went to him, not he to uilty, is so opposite to enerous as is your silence, I know it so opposite to yours, that never, should his blood be on my hands, wretch as he was, never will my heart be quiet more"

"He will live, he will live!" cried Cecilia, repressing her horror, "fear nothing, for he will live;--and as to his wound and his sufferings, his perfidy has deserved theate; think only of Mrs Delvile, and save her, if possible, froo,--stay,--do which and whatever you bid me: but, should what I fear come to pass, should my mother continue ill, my father inflexible, should this wretched er be a country I shall love to dwell in,--could you, then, bear to own, --would you, then, consent to follow me?"

"Could I?--am I not yours? may you not command me? tell me, then, you have only to say,--shall I accompany you at once?"