“Yes, Sir,” answered Mrs Belfield; “but I suppose, Sir, you are some gentleman to my son.”
“No, madam,” he returned, “my business is with yourself.”
Cecilia now recovering from her surprise, determined to hasten unnoticed out of the house, well knowing that to be seen in it would be regarded as a confirmation of all that he had asserted. She whispered, therefore, to Henrietta, that she must instantly run away, but, upon softly opening the door leading to the passage, she found Mr Delvile's chairmen, and a footman there in waiting.
She closed it again, irresolute what to do: but after a little deliberation, she concluded to out-stay him, as she was known to all his servants, who would not fail to mention seeing her; and a retreat so private was worse than any other risk. A chair was also in waiting for herself, but it was a hackney one, and she could not be known by it; and her footman she had fortunately dismissed, as he had business to transact for her journey next day.
Mean-while the thinness of the partition between the two parlours made her hearing every word that was said unavoidable.
“I am sure, Sir, I shall be very willing to oblige you,” Mrs Belfield answered; “but pray, Sir, what's your name?”
“My name, ma'am,” he replied, in a rather elevated voice, “I am seldom obliged to announce myself; nor is there any present necessity I should make it known. It is sufficient I assure you, you are speaking to no very common person, and probably to one you will have little chance to meet with again.”
“But how can I tell your business, Sir, if I don't so much as know your name?”
“My business, madam, I mean to tell myself; your affair is only to hear it. I have some questions, indeed, to ask, which I must trouble you to answer, but they will sufficiently explain themselves to prevent any difficulty upon your part. There is no need, therefore, of any introductory ceremonial.”
“Well, Sir,” said Mrs Belfield, wholly insensible of this ambiguous greatness, “if you mean to make your name a secret.”