all patience; to mention honour, I cried, was a farce, where such
infamous calumnies were listened to;--but let me not shock you
unnecessarily, you may readily conjecture what passed."

"Ah me!" cried Cecilia, "you have then quarrelled with your father!"

"I have!" said he; "nor does he yet know I am married: in so much wrath
there was no room for narration; I only pledged myself by all I held
sacred, never to rest till I had cleared your fame, by the detection of
this villainy, and then left him without further explanation."

"Oh return, then, to him directly!" cried Cecilia, "he is your father,
you are bound to bear with his displeasure;--alas! had you never known
me, you had never incurred it!"

"Believe me," he answered, "I am ill at ease under it: if you wish it,
when you have heard me, I will go to him immediately; if not, I will
write, and you shall yourself dictate what."

Cecilia thanked him, and begged he would continue his account.

"My first step, when I left the Castle, was to send a letter to my
mother, in which I entreated her to set out as soon as possible for
Margate, as I was detained from her unavoidably, and was unwilling my
delay should either retard our journey, or oblige her to travel faster.
At Margate I hoped to be as soon as herself, if not before her."

"And why," cried Cecilia, "did you not go to town as you had promised,
and accompany her?"