University of Virginia Library

September 10.—

A packet sent me from London—A letter from Sir George —one from my Cecilia—and so soon too! Welcome, welcome, thou faithful messenger from the faithfulest of hearts!

Thou dear anticipating little prophetess! What put it into thy head to call Mr. Arnold a new conquest, upon my but barely mentioning him to you? I was just going to tell you all; and behold your own whimsical imagination has suggested the most material part to you already.

You desire me to be sincere: was that necessary, my sister, from you to me? You say, you are sure Mr. Arnold is, or will be my lover; and insist on my being more particular in my description of him. What a strange girl you are! Again I ask you, What put this into your head? What busy little spirit of intelligence flew to you with this news before I knew it myself? For as to the fact, it is but too certain.

This has been the subject of my mother's and lady Grimston's private conferences; and Mrs. Vere (sly thing as she is) guessed it. It seems Mr. Arnold disclosed his passion to lady Grimston, in order to ask her advice about it. She loves mightily to be consulted; and, ill-starred as I am, did me the honour to recommend me strongly to him; and she has prepossessed my mother too in favour of this new man. I wish the meddling old dame had been dumb. Now shall I go through another fiery trial! Heaven help me, if lady Grimston were to be my judge! But my mother is all goodness.

Well, but you want a description of this man. I will give it to you, though I have scarce patience to write about him. Indeed, Cecilia, I am vexed; I foresee a great deal of trouble from that quarter.— But come, I will try what I can say.

The man is about thirty, genteel, and handsome enough; at least he is reckoned so, and I believe I should think him so, if I were not angry with him. He is very like your brother Henry; and you know he is an allowed handsome man. He seems to have plain good sense, and is good-humoured I believe: I do not know of what colour his eyes are, for I never looked much at him. Lady Grimston says he is a scholar (a thing she pretends to value highly) and a mighty sober, pious, worthy gentleman. He is of a very good family; and has an estate of about fifteen hundred pounds a year, upon which there is a jointure of three hundred pounds a year, paid to his brother's widow. Part of the estate is in Kent, and part in this county of Essex, where he has a mansion-house, a well-enough

looking old-fashioned place, something in the Grimston-hall stile, at about a mile distance from this; where he passes most of his time.

I have told you already, he plays divinely on several instruments; this is the only circumstance about him that pleases me.

He has not yet made his addresses to me in form; yet we all know that he intends it, from his uncommon assiduity towards me; but he has a sort of reserve about him, and loves to do every thing in his own way.

Bless me!—here he is—his chariot has just driven into the court; and Mrs. Vere peeps in upon me, and with a most vexatious archness, bids me come down to the parlour; but I will not, unless my mother desires me. I will go into the garden, to be for a while out of the way.