"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." I took the newspaper, and hastened to the house of Mr Cophagus. I found them all three sitting in the breakfast parlour, Mr Cophagus, as usual, reading, with his spectacles on his nose, and the ladies at work. "What is the matter, friend Japhet?" exclaimed Mr Cophagus, as I burst into the room, my countenance lighted up with excitement. "Read that, sir," said I to Mr Cophagus. Mr Cophagus read it. "Hum--bad news--lose Japhet--man of fashion--and so on," said Cophagus, pointing out the paragraph to his wife, as he handed over the paper. In the mean time I watched the countenance of Susannah--a slight emotion, but instantly checked, was visible at Mr Cophagus's remark. She then remained quiet until her sister, who had read the paragraph, handed the paper to her. "I give thee joy, Japhet, at the prospect of finding out thy parent," said Mrs Cophagus. "I trust thou wilt find in him one who is to be esteemed as a man. When departest thou?" "Immediately," replied I. "I cannot blame thee--the ties of nature are ever powerful. I trust that thou wilt write to us, and that we soon shall see thee return." "Yes, yes," said Cophagus, "see father--shake hands--come back--heh!-- settle here--and so on." "I shall not be altogether my own master, perhaps," observed I. "If my father desires that I remain with him, must not I obey? But I know nothing at present. You shall hear from me. Timothy can take my place in the--" I could not bear the idea of the word shop, and I stopped. Susannah, for the first time, looked me earnestly in the face, but she said nothing. Mr and Mrs Cophagus, who probably had been talking over the subject of our conversation, and thought this a good opportunity to allow me to have an _eclaircissement_ with Susannah, left the room, saying they would look after my portmanteau and linen. "Susannah," said I, "you do not appear to rejoice with me." "Japhet Newland, I will rejoice at everything that may tend to thy happiness, believe me; but I do not feel assured but that this trial may prove too great, and that thou mayst fall away. Indeed, I perceive even now that thou art excited with new ideas, and visions of pride." "If I am wrong, forgive me. Susannah, you must know that the whole object of my existence has been to find my father; and now that I have every reason to suppose that my wish is obtained, can you be surprised, or can you blame me, that I long to be pressed in his arms?"