"_Is it possible_!" repeated Delvile, with a look of rapture; "ah Miss
Beverley!--once my own Cecilia!--do you, can you _wish_ it possible?"

"No, No!" cried she, while pleasure and expectation sparkled in her
eyes, "I wish nothing about it.--Yet tell me how it has happened,--I am
_curious_," added she, smiling, "though not interested in it."

"What hope would this sweetness give me," cried he, "were my scheme
almost any other than it is!--but you cannot,--no, it would be
unreasonable, it would be madness to expect your compliance!--it is
next to madness even in me to wish it,--but how shall a man who is
desperate be prudent and circumspect?"

"Spare, spare yourself," cried the ingenuous Cecilia, "this,
unnecessary pain!--you will find from me no unnecessary scruples."

"You know not what you say!--all noble as you are, the sacrifice I have
to propose--"

"Speak it," cried she, "with confidence! speak it even with certainty
of success! I will be wholly undisguised, and openly, honestly own to
you, that no proposal, no sacrifice can be mentioned, to which I will
not instantly agree, if first it has had the approbation of Mrs
Delvile."

Delvile's gratitude and thanks for a concession never before so
voluntarily made to him, interrupted for a while, even his power of
explaining himself. And now, for the first time, Cecilia's sincerity
was chearful, since now, for the first time, it seemed opposed by no