"Alas!" cried she, "how little is your reason to rejoice! a dejected
and melancholy gift is all you can receive!" 

"Ere I take it, then," cried he, in a voice that spoke joy; pain, and
fear all at once in commotion, "tell me if your reluctance has its
origin in _me_, that I may rather even yet relinquish you, than merely
owe your hand to the selfishness of persecution?" 

"Your pride," said she, half smiling, "has some right to be alarmed,
though I meant not to alarm it.  No! it is with myself only I am at
variance, with my own weakness and want of judgment that I quarrel,--
in _you_ I have all the reliance that the highest opinion of your
honour and integrity can give me." 

This was enough for the warm heart of Delvile, not only to restore
peace, but to awaken rapture.  He was almost as wild with delight, as he
had before been with apprehension, and poured forth his acknowledgments
with so much fervour of gratitude, that Cecilia imperceptibly grew
reconciled to herself, and before she missed her dejection,
participated in his contentment.