"If Japhet Newland, who was left at the Foundling Asylum, and was afterwards for some time in London, will call at No. 16, Throgmorton Court, Minories, he will hear of something very much to his advantage, and will discover that of which he has been so long in search. Should this reach his eye, he is requested to write immediately to the above address, with full particulars of his situation. Should anyone who reads this be able to give any information relative to the said J.N., he will be liberally rewarded." I sank down on the chair. "Merciful Heaven! this can be no mistake--'he will discover the object of his search.' Timothy, my dear Timothy, I have at last found out my father." "So I should imagine, my dear Japhet," replied Timothy, "and I trust it will not prove a disappointment." "They never would be so cruel, Timothy," replied I. "But still it is evident that Mr Masterton is concerned in it," observed Timothy. "Why so?" inquired I. "How otherwise should it appear in the Reading newspaper? He must have examined the postmark of my letter." To explain this, I must remind the reader that Timothy had promised to write to Mr Masterton when he found me; and he requested my permission shortly after we had met again. I consented to his keeping his word, but restricted him to saying any more than "that he had found me, and that I was well and happy." There was no address in the letter as a clue to Mr Masterton as to where I might be, and it could only have been from the postmark that he could have formed any idea. Timothy's surmise was therefore very probable; but I would not believe that Mr Masterton would consent to the insertion of that portion of the advertisement, if there was no foundation for it. "What will you do, Japhet?" "Do," replied I, recovering from my reverie, for the information had again roused up all my dormant feelings--"Do," replied I, "why, I shall set off for town this very morning." "In that dress, Japhet?" "I suppose I must," replied I, "for I have no time to procure another;" and all my former ideas of fashion and appearance were roused, and in full activity--my pride recovered its ascendency. "Well," replied Timothy, "I hope you will find your father all that you could wish." "I'm sure of it, Tim--I'm sure of it," replied I; "you must run and take a place in the first coach." "But you are not going without seeing Mr and Mrs Cophagus, and--Miss Temple," continued Tim, laying an emphasis upon the latter name. "Of course not," replied I, colouring deeply. "I will go at once. Give me the newspaper, Tim."