from mercenary motives alone, but not certainly with the impetuous
ardour of youthful love. He thought her exactly fitted to be the wife
of an eminent public man, in person, acquirement, dignified yet
popular manners. He esteemed her, he liked her, and then her fortune
would add solidity to his position. In fact, he had that sort of
rational attachment to Cecilia which wise men, like Lord Bacon and
Montaigne, would commend to another wise man seeking a wife. What
opportunities of awaking in herself a similar, perhaps a warmer,
attachment the visit to Exmundham would afford! He had learned when
he had called on the Traverses that they were going thither, and hence
that burst of family sentiment which had procured the invitation to
himself.

But he must be cautious, he must not prematurely awaken Travers's
suspicions. He was not as yet a match that the squire could approve
of for his heiress. And, though he was ignorant of Sir Peter's
designs on that, young lady, he was much too prudent to confide his
own to a kinsman of whose discretion he had strong misgivings. It was
enough for him at present that way was opened for his own resolute
energies. And cheerfully, though musingly, he weighed its obstacles,
and divined its goal, as he paced his floor with bended head and
restless strides, now quick, now slow.

Sir Peter, in the meanwhile, found a very good luncheon prepared for
him at Mivers's rooms, which he had all to himself, for his host never
"spoilt his dinner and insulted his breakfast" by that intermediate
meal. He remained at his desk writing brief notes of business, or of
pleasure, while Sir Peter did justice to lamb cutlets and grilled
chicken. But he looked up from his task, with raised eyebrows, when
Sir Peter, after a somewhat discursive account of his visit to the