"I have much to say to you, De Benyon," commenced Harcourt: "first let me tell you, that after I rose from my bed, and discovered that you had disappeared, I resolved, if possible, to find you out and induce you to come back. Timothy, who looked very sly at me, would tell me nothing, but that the last that was heard of you was at Lady de Clare's, at Richmond. Having no other clue, I went down there, introduced myself, and, as they will tell you, candidly acknowledged that I had treated you ill. I then requested that they would give me any clue by which you might be found, for I had an opportunity of offering to you a situation which was at my father's disposal, and which any gentleman might have accepted, although it was not very lucrative."
"It was very kind of you, Harcourt."
"Do not say that, I beg. It was thus that I formed an acquaintance with Lady de Clare and her daughter, whose early history, as Fleta, I had obtained from you, but who I little imagined to be the little girl that you had so generously protected; for it was not until after I had deserted you, that you had discovered her parentage. The extreme interest relative to you evinced by both the mother and the daughter surprised me. They had heard of my name from you, but not of our quarrel. They urged me, and thanked me for proposing, to follow you and find you out: I did make every attempt. I went to Brentford, inquired at all the public-houses, and of all the coachmen who went down the road, but could obtain no information, except that at one public-house, a gentleman stopped with a portmanteau, and soon afterwards went away with it on his shoulders. I returned to Richmond with the tidings of my ill-success about a week after I had first called there. Cecilia was much affected and cried very bitterly. I could not help asking Lady de Clare why she took such a strong interest in your fortunes. 'Who ought,' replied Cecilia, 'if his poor Fleta does not?' 'Good Heavens! Miss de Clare, are you the little Fleta whom he found with the gipsies, and talked to me so much about?' 'Did you not know it?' said Lady de Clare. I then explained to her all that had latterly passed between us, and they in return communicated your events and dangers in Ireland. Thus was an intimacy formed, and ever since I have been constantly welcome at their house. I did not, however, abandon my enquiries for many months, when I thought it was useless, and I had to console poor Cecilia, who constantly mourned for you. And now, Japhet, I must make my story short: I could not help admiring a young person who showed so much attachment and gratitude joined to such personal attractions, but she was an heiress and I was a younger brother. Still Lady de Clare insisted upon my coming to the house, and I was undecided how to act when the unfortunate death of my elder brother put me in a situation to aspire to her hand. After that my visits were more frequent, and I was tacitly received as a suitor by Lady de Clare, and had no reason to complain of the treatment I received from Cecilia. Such was the position of affairs until the day on which you broke in upon us so unexpectedly, and at the very moment that you came in, I had, with the sanction of her mother, made an offer to Cecilia, and was anxiously awaiting an answer from her own dear lips. Can you therefore be surprised, Japhet, at there being a degree of constraint on all sides at the interruption occasioned by the presence of one who had long been considered lost to us? Or that a young person just deciding upon the most important step of her life should feel confused and agitated at the entrance of a third party, however dear he might be to her as a brother and benefactor?"
"I am perfectly satisfied, Harcourt," replied I: "and I will go there, and make my peace as soon as I can."
"Indeed, Japhet, if you knew the distress of Cecilia you would pity and love her more than ever. Her mother is also much annoyed. As soon as you were gone, they desired me to hasten after you and bring you back. Cecilia had not yet given her answer: I requested it before my departure, but, I presume to stimulate me, she declared that she would give me no answer, until I re-appeared with you. This is now three weeks ago, and I have not dared to go there. I have been trying all I can to see you again since you repulsed me at the Piazza, but without success, until I went to Mr Masterton, and begged him to procure me an interview. I thank God it has succeeded."
"Well, Harcourt, you shall see Cecilia to-morrow morning, if you please."
"Japhet, what obligations I am under to you! Had it not been for you I never should have known Cecilia; and more, were it not for your kindness, I might perhaps lose her for ever."
"Not so, Harcourt; it was your own good feeling prompting you to find me out, which introduced you to Cecilia, and I wish you joy with all my heart. This is a strange world—who would have imagined that, in little Fleta, I was picking up a wife for a man whose life I nearly took away? I will ask my governor for his carriage to-morrow, and will call and take you up at your lodgings at two o'clock, if that hour will suit you. I will tell you all that has passed since I absconded, when we are at Lady de Clare's; one story will do for all."
Harcourt then took his leave, and I returned to my father, with whom I found Lord Windermear.
"De Benyon, I am happy to see you again," said his lordship. "I have just been giving a very good character of you to the general; I hope you will continue to deserve it."