I was in the act of singing "Pray Goody," when my eyes suddenly met those of my papa, who was staring like the head of Gorgon; and though his gaze did not turn me to stone, it turned me sick. I was stupified, forgot my part, ran off, and left the manager and the music to make the best of it. My father, who could hardly believe his eyes, was convinced when he saw my confusion. I ran into the dressing-room, where, before I had time to divest myself of Apollo's crown and petticoat, I was accosted by my enraged parent, and it is quite impossible for me to describe (taking my costume into consideration) how very much like a fool I looked. My father sternly demanded how long I had been thus honourably employed. This was a question which I had anticipated, and, therefore, very readily replied "Only two or three days;" that I had left Portsmouth for what we called "a lark," and I thought it very amusing. "Very amusing, indeed, sir," said my father; "and pray, may I venture to inquire, without the fear of having a lie told me, how long this 'lark,' as you call it, is to continue?" "Oh, to-morrow," said I, "my leave expires, and then I must return to my ship." "Allow me the honour of keeping your company," said my father; "and I shall beg your captain to impose some little restraint as to time and distance on your future excursions." Then rising in his tone, he added, "I am ashamed of you, sir; the son of a gentleman is not likely to reap any advantage from the society of strolling vagabonds and prostitutes. I had reason to think, by your last letters from Portsmouth, that you were very differently employed." To this very sensible and parental reproof I answered, with a demure and innocent countenance (for I soon regained my presence of mind) that I did not think there had been any harm in doing that which most of the officers of the navy did at one time or another (an assertion, by-the-by, much too general); that we often got up plays on board of ship, and that I wanted to practise. "Practise, then with your equals," said my father, "not in company with rogues and street-walkers." I felt that the latter name was meant for Eugenia, and was very indignant; but fortunately kept all my anger within board, and, knowing I was "all in the wrong," allowed my father to fire away without returning a shot. He concluded his lecture by commanding me to call upon him the next morning, at ten o'clock, and left me to change my dress, and to regain my good humour. I need not add that I did not return to the stage that night, but left the manager to make his peace with the audience in any way he thought proper.