point."

She would then have left the room.

"I beg, madam," cried the stranger, "you will have patience; it is
necessary, before I can open my business, that I should hear your name
from yourself."

"Well, sir," cried she with some hesitation, "you can scarce have come
to this house, without knowing that its owner is Cecilia Beverley."

"That, madam, is your maiden name."

"My maiden name?" cried she, starting.

"Are you not married, madam?"

"Married, sir?" she repeated, while her cheeks were the colour of
scarlet.

"It is, properly, therefore, madam, the name of your husband that I
mean to ask."

"And by what authority, sir," cried she, equally astonished and
offended, "do you make these extraordinary enquiries?"

"I am deputed, madam, to wait upon you by Mr Eggleston, the next heir
to this estate, by your uncle's will, if you die without children, or
change your name when you marry. His authority of enquiry, madam, I
presume you will allow, and he has vested it in me by a letter of