gay, fashionable and splendid, had been appointed by her uncle to be
one of her trustees; a choice which had for object the peculiar
gratification of his niece, whose most favourite young friend Mr
Harrel had married, and in whose house he therefore knew she would
most wish to live.

Whatever good-nature could dictate or politeness suggest to dispel
her melancholy, Mr Harrel failed not to urge; and Cecilia, in whose
disposition sweetness was tempered with dignity, and gentleness with
fortitude, suffered not his kind offices to seem ineffectual; she
kissed her hand at the last glimpse a friendly hill afforded of her
native town, and made an effort to forget the regret with which she
lost sight of it. She revived her spirits by plans of future
happiness, dwelt upon the delight with which she should meet her
young friend, and, by accepting his consolation, amply rewarded his
trouble.

Her serenity, however, had yet another, though milder trial to
undergo, since another friend was yet to be met, and another
farewell was yet to be taken.

At the distance of seven miles from Bury resided Mr Monckton, the
richest and most powerful man in that neighbourhood, at whose house
Cecilia and her guardian were invited to breakfast in their journey.

Mr Monckton, who was the younger son of a noble family, was a man of
parts, information and sagacity; to great native strength of mind he
added a penetrating knowledge of the world, and to faculties the
most skilful of investigating the character of every other, a
dissimulation the most profound in concealing his own. In the bloom