The meanness with which Mr Harrel had assumed the credit, as well as accepted the assistance of Mr Arnott, increased the disgust he had already excited in Cecilia, and hastened her resolution of quitting his house; and therefore, without waiting any longer for the advice of Mr Monckton, she resolved to go instantly to her other guardians, and see what better prospects their habitations might offer.
For this purpose she borrowed one of the carriages, and gave orders to be driven into the city to the house of Mr Briggs.
She told her name, and was shewn, by a little shabby footboy, into a parlour.
Here she waited, with tolerable patience, for half an hour, but then, imagining the boy had forgotten to tell his master she was in the house, she thought it expedient to make some enquiry.
No bell, however, could she find, and therefore she went into the passage in search of the footboy; but, as she was proceeding to the head of the kitchen stairs, she was startled by hearing a man's voice from the upper part of the house exclaiming, in a furious passion, "Dare say you've filched it for a dish-clout!"
She called out, however, "Are any of Mr Briggs's servants below?"
"Anan!" answered the boy, who came to the foot of the stairs, with a knife in one hand and an old shoe, upon the sole of which he was sharpening it, in the other, "Does any one call?"
"Yes," said Cecilia, "I do; for I could not find the bell."
"O, we have no bell in the parlour," returned the boy, "master always knocks with his stick."
"I am afraid Mr Briggs is too busy to see me, and if so, I will come another time."
"No, ma'am," said the boy, "master's only looking over his things from the wash."
"Will you tell him, then, that I am waiting?"
"I has, ma'am; but master misses his shaving-rag, and he says he won't come to the Mogul till he's found it." And then he went on with sharpening his knife.
This little circumstance was at least sufficient to satisfy Cecilia that if she fixed her abode with Mr Briggs, she should not have much uneasiness to fear from the sight of extravagance and profusion.
She returned to the parlour, and after waiting another half-hour, Mr Briggs made his appearance.
Mr Briggs was a short, thick, sturdy man, with very small keen black eyes, a square face, a dark complexion, and a snub nose. His constant dress, both in winter and summer, was a snuff-colour suit of clothes, blue and white speckled worsted stockings, a plain shirt, and a bob wig. He was seldom without a stick in his hand, which he usually held to his forehead when not speaking.