lt your father;
quit his house; get up, like a vagabond, behind a gentleman's carriage;
are flogged off, break the ribs of an honest man, who has a wife and
family to support out of his hard earnings--are the occasion of a
carriage being overturned, and very nearly cause the death of an amiable
girl! And all this mischief in the short space of six hours, not to say
a word of your intentions towards the little actress, which I presume
are none of the most honourable. Where is all this to end?"

"At the gallows," said I, in reply to myself,--"the more probably, too,
as my finances have no means of improvement, except by a miracle or
highway robbery. I am in love with two girls, and have only two clean
shirts; consequently there is no proportion between the demand and the
supply." With this medley of reflections I fell asleep. I was awoke
early by the swallows twittering at the windows; and the first question
which was agitated in my brain was, what account I should give of myself
to the father of the young lady, when interrogated by him, as I most
certainly should be. I had my choice between truth and falsehood: the
latter (such is the force of habit), I think, carried it hollow; but I
determined to leave that point to the spur of the moment, and act
according to circumstances. My meditations were interrupted by the
chambermaid, who, tapping at my door, said she came to tell me "that the
gentleman that _belonged_ to the young lady that I was so kind to was
waiting breakfast for me."

The thought of sitting at table with the dear creature whose brains I
had so nearly spilled upon the road the night before, quite overcame me;
and leaving the fabric of my history to chance or to inspiration, I
darted from my bedroom to the parlour, where the stranger awaited me.
He received me with great cordiality, again expressed his obligations,
and informed me that his name was Somerville, of ---.

I had some faint recollection of having heard the name mentioned by my
father, and was endeavouring to recall to mind on what occasion, when
Mr Somerville interrupted me by saying, that he hoped he should have
the pleasure of knowing the name of the young gentleman who had
conferred such an obligation upon him. I answered that my name was
Mildmay; for I had no time to tell a lie.

"I should be happy to think," said he, "that you were the son of my old
friend and schoolfellow, Mr Mildmay, of ---; but that cannot well be,"
said he, "