to direct me?"

"No, certainly, not for the world!"

"Speak to me, then, my love, and tell me;--why are you thus silent?--
is it painful to you to counsel me?"

"No, indeed!" said she, putting her hand to her head, "I will speak to
you in a few minutes."

"Oh my Cecilia!" cried he, looking at her with much alarm, "call back
your recollection! you know not what you say, you take no interest in
what you answer."

"Indeed I do!" said she, sighing deeply, and oppressed beyond the power
of thinking, beyond any power but an internal consciousness of
wretchedness.

"Sigh not so bitterly," cried he, "if you have any compassion! sigh not
so bitterly,--I cannot bear to hear you!"

"I am very sorry indeed!" said she, sighing again, and not seeming
sensible she spoke.

"Good Heaven!" cried he, rising, "distract me not with this horror!--
speak not to me in such broken sentences!--Do you hear me, Cecilia?--
why will you not answer me?"

She started and trembled, looked pale and affrighted, and putting both
her hands upon her heart, said, "Oh yes!--but I have an oppression