Delvile then, struggling for an appearance of more ease, said, "I seem
to have made a general confusion here:--pray, I beg"--

"None at all, Sir," said Belfield, and offered a chair to Cecilia.

"No, Sir," she answered, in a voice scarce audible, "I was just going."
And again rang the bell.

"I fear I hurry you, madam?" cried Delvile, whose whole frame was now
shaking with uncontrollable emotion; "you are upon business--I ought to
beg your pardon--my entrance, I believe, was unseasonable."--

"Sir!" cried she, looking aghast at this speech.

"I should have been rather surprised," he added, "to have met you here,
so late,--so unexpectedly,--so deeply engaged--had I not happened to
see your servant in the street, who told me the honour I should be
likely to have by coming."

"Good God!--" exclaimed she, involuntarily; but, checking herself as
well as she could, she courtsied to Mrs Belfield, unable to speak to
her, and avoiding even to look at Belfield, who respectfully hung back,
she hastened out of the room: accompanied by Mrs Belfield, who again
began the most voluble and vulgar apologies for the intrusion she had
met with.

Delvile also, after a moment's pause, followed, saying, "Give me leave,
madam, to see you to your carriage."