can never be justified. It may be
unpleasant to you; but I will prepare the way by writing to your father:
and do you stay here till you hear from me. I should wish for the
pleasure of your company at --- Hall; but your father has prior claims:
and I hardly need tell you, that once restored and reconciled to him, I
expect as long a visit as you can afford to pay me. Think on what I
have said and, in the meantime, as I daresay your finances are not very
flourishing"--(thinks I, you are a witch!)--"allow me to leave this
ten-pound note in your hands." This part of his request was much more
readily complied with than the other.

He left the room, as he said, to pay the bill; but, I believe, it was to
give his fair daughter an opportunity of trying the effect of her
eloquence on my proud spirit, which gave no great promise of concession.
A few minutes with _her_, did more than both the fathers could have
effected, the most powerful motive to submission being the certainty
that I could not visit at her father's house until a reconciliation had
taken place between me and mine. I therefore told her that, at her
solicitation, I would submit to any liberal terms.

This being agreed to, her father observed that the carriage was at the
door, shook hands with me, and led his lovely daughter away, whose last
nod and parting look confirmed all my good resolutions.

Reader, whatever you may think of the trifling incidents of the last
twenty-four hours, you will find that they involved consequences of vast
importance to the writer of this memoir. Pride induced me to quit my
father's house; revenge stimulated me to an act which brought the
heroine of this story on the stage, for such will Emily Somerville prove
to be. But, alas! by what fatal infatuation was Mr Somerville induced
to leave me my own master at an inn, with ten pounds in my pocket,
instead of taking me with him to his own residence, and keeping me till
he had heard from my father? The wisest men often err in points which
at first appear of trivial importance, but which prove in the sequel to
have been fraught with evil.

Left to myself, I ruminated for some time on what had occurred; and the
beautiful Emily Somerville having vanished from my sight, I recollected
the little fascinating actress from whom I had so suddenly parted on the
previous night; still I must say, that I was so much occupied with the
charms of her successor, that I sought the society of the y