“Frivolous, unmeaning, ever-ready excuses! what business is so important as the relief of a fellow-creature?”
“I shall not, I hope, there,” answered she, with alacrity, “be backward; but at least for this morning I must beg to make you my Almoner.”
She then took out her purse.
Mr Briggs and Mr Hobson, whose quarrel had been suspended by the appearance of a third person, and who had stood during this short dialogue in silent amazement, having first lost their anger in their mutual consternation, now lost their consternation in their mutual displeasure Mr. Hobson felt offended to hear business spoken of slightly, and Mr Briggs felt enraged at the sight of Cecilia's ready purse. Neither of them, however, knew which way to interfere, the stem gravity of Albany, joined to a language too lofty for their comprehension, intimidating them both. They took, however, the relief of communing with one another, and Mr Hobson said in a whisper “This, you must know, is, I am told, a very particular old gentleman; quite what I call a genius. He comes often to my house, to see my lodger Miss Henny Belfield, though I never happen to light upon him myself, except once in the passage: but what I hear of him is this; he makes a practice, as one may say, of going about into people's houses, to do nothing but find fault.”
“Shan't get into mine!” returned Briggs, “promise him that! don't half like him; be bound he's an old sharper.”
Cecilia, mean time, enquired what he desired to have.
“Half a guinea,” he answered.
“Will that do?”
“For those who have nothing,” said he, “it is much. Hereafter, you may assist them again. Go but and see their distresses, and you will wish to give them every thing.”
Mr Briggs now, when actually between her fingers he saw the half guinea, could contain no longer; he twitched the sleeve of her gown, and pinching her arm, with a look of painful eagerness, said in a whisper “Don't give it! don't let him have it! chouse him, chouse him! nothing but an old bite!”