minutes, opened the dressing-room door, and said, "Ma'am, a gentleman;"
and Delvile, abruptly entering, shut it himself, in his eagerness to
get rid of him.

At his sight, her prognostication of ill became stronger! she went
forward to meet him, and he advanced to her smiling and in haste; but
that smile did not well do its office; it concealed not a pallid
countenance, in which every feature spoke horror; it disguised not an
aching heart, which almost visibly throbbed with intolerable emotion!
Yet he addressed her in terms of tenderness and peace; but his
tremulous voice counteracted his words, and spoke that all within was
tumult and war!

Cecilia, amazed, affrighted, had no power to hasten an explanation,
which, on his own part, he seemed unable, or fearful to begin. He
talked to her of his happiness in again seeing her before he left the
kingdom, entreated her to write to him continually, said the same thing
two and three times in a breath, began with one subject, and seemed
unconscious he wandered presently into another, and asked her questions
innumerable about her health, journey, affairs, and ease of mind,
without hearing from her any answer, or seeming to miss that she had
none.

Cecilia grew dreadfully terrified; something strange and most alarming
she was sure must have happened, but _what_, she had no means to know,
nor courage, nor even words to enquire.

Delvile, at length, the first hurry of his spirits abating, became more
coherent and considerate: and looking anxiously at her, said, "Why this
silence, my Cecilia?"