t the
remembrance of a past emotion that had been mixed with foresight, she
confessed to Rosamund she thought it now too late to prevent a rupture
between Nevil and his uncle. Had some one whom Nevil trusted and cared
for taken counsel with him and advised him before uncle and nephew met to
discuss this most unhappy matter, then there might have been hope. As it
was, the fate of Dr. Shrapnel had gained entire possession of Nevil.
Every retort of his uncle's in reference to it rose up in him: he used
language of contempt neighbouring abhorrence: he stipulated for one sole
thing to win back his esteem for his uncle; and that was, the apology to
Dr. Shrapnel.

'And to-night,' Cecilia concluded, 'he will request Mr. Romfrey to
accompany him to Bevisham to-morrow morning, to make the apology in
person. He will not accept the slightest evasion. He thinks Dr. Shrapnel
may die, and the honour of the family--what is it he says of it?' Cecilia
raised her eyes to the ceiling, while Rosamund blinked in impatience and
grief, just apprehending the alien state of the young lady's mind in her
absence of recollection, as well as her bondage in the effort to
recollect accurately.

'Have you not eaten any food to-day, Miss Halkett?' she said; for it
might be the want of food which had broken her and changed her manner.

Cecilia replied that she had ridden for an hour to Mount Laurels.

'Alone? Mr. Romfrey must not hear of that,' said Rosamund.

Cecilia consented to lie down on her bed. She declined the dainties
Rosamund pressed on her. She was feverish with a deep and unconcealed
affliction, and behaved as if her pride had gone. But if her pride had
gone she would have eased her heart by sobbing outright. A similar
division harassed her as when her friend Nevil was the candidate for
Bevisham. She condemned his extreme wrath with his uncle, yet was
attracted and enchained by the fire of passionate attachment which
aroused it: and she was conscious that she had but shown obedience to his
wishes throughout the day, not sympathy with his feelings. Under cover of
a patient desire to please she had nursed irritation and jealousy; the
degradation of the sense of jealousy increasing the irritation. Having
consented to the ride to Dr. Shrapnel, should she not, to be consistent,
have dismounted there? O half heart! A whole one, though it be an erring,
like that of the French lady, does at least live, and has a history, and
makes music: but the