Cecilia now, extremely alarmed, most earnestly entreated her to be quiet; but the discovery of her fright only excited her ladyship's laughter, and, with a look the most mischievously wicked, she called out “Pray Mr Mortimer, come hither!”
Mortimer instantly obeyed; and Cecilia at the same moment would with pleasure have endured almost any punishment to have been twenty miles off.
“I have something,” continued her ladyship, “of the utmost consequence to communicate to you. We have been settling an admirable plan for you; will you promise to be guided by us if I tell it you?”
“O certainly!” cried he; “to doubt that would disgrace us all round.”
“Well, then,—Miss Beverley, have you any objection to my proceeding?” “None at all!” answered Cecilia, who had the understanding to know that the greatest excitement to ridicule is opposition.
“Well, then, I must tell you,” she continued, “it is the advice of us all, that as soon as you come to the possession of your estate, you make some capital alterations in this antient castle.”
Cecilia, greatly relieved, could with gratitude have embraced her; and Mortimer, very certain that such rattle was all her own, promised the utmost submission to her orders, and begged her further directions, declaring that he could not, at least, desire a fairer architect.
“What we mean,” said she, “may be effected with the utmost ease; it is only to take out these old windows, and fix some thick iron grates in their place, and so turn the castle into a gaol for the county.”
Mortimer laughed heartily at this proposition; but his father, unfortunately hearing it, sternly advanced, and with great austerity said, “If I thought my son capable of putting such an insult upon his ancestors, whatever may be the value I feel for him, I would banish him my presence for ever.”
“Dear Sir,” cried Lady Honoria, “how would his ancestors ever know it?”