to fit out your fine frigate for North America."

"That frigate was not got ready even then by any hurry of mine," said I;
"and if ever I come to be First Lord of the Admiralty, I shall have a
bright eye on the young lieutenants and their sweethearts at Blackheath,
particularly when a ship is fitting in a hurry at Woolwich."

Much of this kind of sparring went on, to the great amusement of all
parties; meanwhile the ladies employed themselves in running up
milliners' bills, and their papas employed themselves in discharging
them. My father was particularly liberal to Emily in the articles of
plate and jewellery, and Mr Somerville equally kind to Clara. Emily
received a trinket-box, so beautifully fitted and so well filled, that
it required a cheque of no trifling magnitude to cry quits with the
jeweller; indeed, my father's kindness was so great that I was forced to
beg he would set some bounds to his liberality.

I was so busy and so happy that I had let three weeks pass over my head
without seeing Eugenia. I dreamed of her at last, and thought she
upbraided me; and the next day, full of my dream, as soon as breakfast
was over, I recommended the young ladies to the care of Talbot, and,
mounting my horse, rode over to see Eugenia. She received me kindly,
but she had suffered in her health, and was much out of spirits. I
inquired the reason, and she burst into tears. "I shall be better,
Frank," said she, "when all is over, but I must suffer now; and I suffer
the more acutely from a conviction that I am only paying the penalty of
my own crime. Perhaps," continued she, "had I never departed from
virtue, I might at this moment have held in your heart the envied place
of Miss Somerville; but as the righteous decrees of Providence have
provided punishment to tread fast in the footsteps of guilt, I am now
expiating my faults, and I have a presentiment that although the
struggle is bitter, it will soon be over. God's will be done; and may
you, my dear Frank, have many, many happy years in the society of one
you are bound to love before the unhappy Eugenia."

Here she sank on a sofa, and again wept bitterly.

"I feel," said she, "now, but it is too late--I feel that I have acted
wrongly in quitting Bordeaux. There I was loved and respected; and if
not happy, at least I was composed. Too much dependence on my
resolution, and the vanity of supposing myself superior in magnanimity
to the rest of my sex, induced me to