In return for her confidence I imparted as much of my history as I thought it necessary for her to know. I became deeply fascinated,--I forgot Miss Somerville, and answered my father's letter respectfully and kindly. He informed me that, he had procured my name to be entered on the books of the guard-ship at Spithead; but that I might gain time to loiter by the side of Eugenia, I begged his permission to join my ship without returning home, alleging, as a reason, that delay would soften down any asperity of feeling occasioned by the late fracas. This, in his answer, he agreed to, enclosing a handsome remittance; and the same post brought a pressing invitation from Mr Somerville to come to --- Hall. My little actress informed me that the company would set out in two days for the neighbourhood of Portsmouth; and, as I found that they would be more than a fortnight in travelling, I determined to accept the invitation, and quit her for the present. I had been more than a week in her society. At parting, I professed my admiration and love. Silence, and a starting tear, were her only acknowledgement. I saw that she was not displeased; and I left her with joyful anticipations. But what did I anticipate, as I rolled heedlessly along in the chaise to --- Hall? Sensual gratification at the expense of a poor defenceless orphan, whose future life would be clouded with misery. I could see my wickedness, and moralise upon it; but the devil was triumphant within me, and I consoled myself with the vulgar adage, "Needs must when the devil drives." Then I dismissed the subject to think of Emily, whose residence was now in sight. I arrived at --- Hall, was kindly received and welcomed by both father and mother: but on this visit I must not dwell. When I reflect on it, I hate myself and human nature! Could I be trusted? yet I inspired unbounded confidence. Was I not as vicious as one of my age could be? Yet I made them believe I was almost perfection. Did I deserve to be happy? Yet I was so, and more so than I had ever been before, or have been since. I was like the serpent in Eden, though without his vile intentions. Beauty and virtue united to keep my passions in subjection. When they had nothing to feed on, they concealed themselves in the inmost recesses of my bosom. Had I remained always with Emily, I should have been reclaimed; but when I quitted her I lost all my good feelings and good resolutions; not, however, before the bright image of virtue had lighted up in my bosom a holy flame, which has never been entirely extinguished. Occasionally dimmed, it has afterwards burnt up with renewed brightness; and, as a beacon-light, has often guided me through perils, that might have overwhelmed me.