I went up stairs, and found that all was ready, and I took leave of Mr and Mrs Cophagus, both of whom expressed their hopes that I would not leave them for ever. "Oh, no," replied I, "I should indeed be base, if I did." I left them, and with Ephraim following with my portmanteau, I quitted the house. I had gone about twenty yards, when I recollected that I had left on the table the newspaper with the advertisement containing the direction whom to apply to, and, desiring Ephraim to proceed, I returned. When I entered the parlour, Susannah Temple was resting her face in her hands and weeping. The opening of the door made her start up; she perceived that it was I, and she turned away. "I beg your pardon, I left the newspaper," said I, stammering. I was about to throw myself at her feet, declare my sincere affection, and give up all idea of finding my father until we were married, when she, without saying a word, passed quickly by me, and hastened out of the room. "She loves me, then," thought I; "thank God:--I will not go yet, I will speak to her first." I sat down, quite overpowered with contending feelings. The paper was in my hand, the paragraph was again read; I thought but of my father, and I left the house. In half an hour I had shaken hands with Timothy and quitted the town of Reading. How I arrived in London, that is to say, what passed, or what we passed, I know not: my mind was in such a state of excitement. I hardly know how to express the state that I was in. It was a sort of mental whirling which blinded me--round and round--from my father and the expected meeting, then to Susannah, my departure, and her tears-- castle building of every description. After the coach stopped, there I remained fixed on the top of it, not aware that we were in London, until the coachman asked me whether the spirit did not move me to get down. I recollected myself, and calling a hackney-coach, gave orders to be driven to the Piazza, Covent Garden. "Piazza, Common Garden," said the waterman; "why that ban't an 'otel for the like o' you, master. They'll torment you to death, them young chaps."