In the morning nothing was to be seen but these shells; nothing talked of but the long expected event of the evening. Cecilia, following Leonora’s example, had made it a point of honour not to inquire of any individual her vote, previously to their final determination.
They were both sitting together in Louisa’s room. Louisa was recovering from the measles. Everyone during her illness had been desirous of attending her; but Leonora and Cecilia were the only two that were permitted to see her, as they alone had had the distemper. They were both assiduous in their care of Louisa, but Leonora’s want of exertion to overcome any disagreeable feelings of sensibility often deprived her of presence of mind, and prevented her from being so constantly useful as Cecilia. Cecilia, on the contrary, often made too much noise and bustle with her officious assistance, and was too anxious to invent amusements and procure comforts for Louisa, without perceiving that illness takes away the power of enjoying them.
As she was sitting at the window in the morning, exerting herself to entertain Louisa, she heard the voice of an old peddler who often used to come to the house. Downstairs they ran immediately, to ask Mrs. Villars’ permission to bring him into the hall. Mrs. Villars consented, and away Cecilia ran to proclaim the news to her companions. Then, first returning into the hall, she found the peddler just unbuckling his box, and taking it off his shoulders.
“What would you be pleased to want, miss?” said the peddler; “I’ve all kinds of tweezer-cases, rings, and lockets of all sorts,” continued he, opening all the glittering drawers successively.
“Oh!” said Cecilia, shutting the drawer of lockets which tempted her most, “these are not the things which I want. Have you any china figures? any mandarins?”
“Alack-a-day, miss, I had a great stock of that same chinaware; but now I’m quite out of them kind of things; but I believe,” said he, rummaging one of the deepest drawers, “I believe I have one left, and here it is.”
“Oh, that is the very thing! what’s its price?”
“Only three shillings, ma’am.” Cecilia paid the money, and was just going to carry off the mandarin, when the peddler took out of his great-coat pocket a neat mahogany case. It was about a foot long, and fastened at each end by two little clasps. It had besides, a small lock in the middle.
“What is that?” said Cecilia, eagerly.
“It’s only a china figure, miss, which I am going to carry to an elderly lady, who lives nigh hand, and who is mighty fond of such things.”