Is he come alone, she asked? Alone, I replied. You but repeat my words, Cecilia, without adding any thing from yourself. Shall I interpret the meaning of that mournful echo? Mr Faulkland no longer lives!
I was silent—Oh I knew him too well, said she, raising her voice with energy, to think he would survive this last blow.
His death was natural, said I, for any thing that appears to the contrary. God be praised for that, cried Mrs Arnold! If so, I am satisfied that he is at peace.
She then enquired after Mr Warner, and her brother, without making any farther mention of Mr Faulkland.
Whilst we were in discourse, Master Faulkland ran into the room. He had been at play with the two little Miss Arnolds, who were in pursuit of him, And he flew to Mrs Arnold to hide him. She folded him tenderly in her arms; then turning to me, Look at this boy, said she, he is the perfect image of his father.
When am I to go to my papa, cried the child, as he hung round her neck? This innocent unexpected demand quite vanquished Mrs Arnold’s fortitude. She set him down without being able to answer his question, then said, Excuse me, my Cecilia, I would wish to be alone for to-day. It was not yet a season to administer consolation, and I withdrew.
She staid in London but two days after this; when, as she had before resolved, she retired to an estate in Buckinghamshire, which her kinsman had purchased and settled on her for ever.
With her brother’s consent, she took Master Faulkland with her, and prevailed on Mr Price to accompany her into the country, to whom she committed the care of the child’s education.
Mr Warner, whom she had acquainted by letter with her intention, approved of the step she had taken. He returned to England in about three weeks after her departure from her house in town, which she had left for his reception just as he had fitted it up for her.
Before I accompany Mrs Arnold into her solitude, I shall just briefly mention some other persons who were connected with her story.