her, was either her defence or accusation? She had solemnly renounced
all further intercourse with her, she had declared against writing
again, and prohibited her letters: and, therefore, after much
fluctuation of opinion, her delicacy concurred with her judgment, to
conclude it would be most proper, in a situation so intricate, to leave
the matter to chance, and commit her character to time.

In the evening, while she was at tea with Lady Margaret and Miss
Bennet, she was suddenly called out to speak to a young woman; and
found, to her great surprise, she was no other than Henrietta.

"Ah madam!" she cried, "how angrily did you go away this morning! it
has made me miserable ever since, and if you go out of town without
forgiving me, I shall fret myself quite ill! my mother is gone out to
tea, and I have run here all alone, and in the dark, and in the wet, to
beg and pray you will forgive me, for else I don't know what I shall
do!"

"Sweet, gentle girl!" cried Cecilia, affectionately embracing her, "if
you had excited all the anger I am capable of feeling, such softness as
this would banish it, and make me love you more than ever!"

Henrietta then said, in her excuse, that she had thought herself quite
sure of her brother's absence, who almost always spent the whole day at
the bookseller's, as in writing himself he perpetually wanted to
consult other authors, and had very few books at their lodgings: but
she would not mention that the room was his, lest Cecilia should object
to making use of it, and she knew she had no other chance of having the
conversation with her she had so very long wished for. She then again
begged her pardon, and hoped the behaviour of her mother would not