union between his
daughters and myself. How true it is, that the falling out of lovers is
the renewal of love! The fair, white hand extended to me was kissed
with the more rapture, as I had feared the losing of it for ever. None
enjoy the pleasures of a secure port as he who has been tempest tossed
and in danger of shipwreck.

The dinner and the evening were among the happiest I can remember. We
sat but a short time over our wine, as I preferred following my mistress
to the little drawing-room, where tea and coffee were prepared, and
where the musical instruments were kept. Emily sang and played to me,
and I sang and accompanied her; and I thought all the clocks and watches
in the house were at least three hours too fast, when, as it struck
twelve, the signal was made to retire.

I had no sooner laid my head on my pillow, than I began to call myself
to a severe account for my duplicity; for somehow or other, I don't know
how it is, conscience is a very difficult sort of gentleman to deal
with. A tailor's bill you may avoid by crossing the Channel; but the
duns of conscience follow you to the antipodes, and will be satisfied.
I ran over the events of the day; I reflected that I had been on the
brink of losing my Emily by an act of needless and unjustifiable deceit
and double-dealing. Sooner or later I was convinced that this part of
my character would be made manifest, and that shame and punishment would
overwhelm me in utter ruin. The success which had hitherto attended me
was no set-off against the risk I ran of losing for ever this lovely
girl, and the respect and esteem of her father. For her sake,
therefore, I made a vow for ever to abandon this infernal system. I
mention this more particularly as it was the first healthy symptom of
amendment I had discovered, and one to which I long and tenaciously
adhered--as far, at least, as my habits and pursuits in life would allow
me. I forgot, at that time, that to be ingenuous it was necessary to be
virtuous. There is no cause for concealment when we do not act wrongly.

A letter from Mr Somerville to my father explained my conduct; and my
father, in reply, said I certainly must have been mad. To this I
assented, quoting Shakespeare--"The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,"
etcetera! So long as I was out of the scrape, I cared little about the
impeachment of my rationality.

The days at the Hall flew, just like all the days of happy lovers,
confoundedly fas