for our future correspondence, and, if possible, for our future meetings. I left her early on the following morning; and with a heavy, I had | almost said a broken heart, appeared before my father. He was, no doubt, aware of my attachment and the violence of my passions, and prudently endeavoured to soothe them. He received me affectionately, did not renew the subject of the preceding night, and we became very good friends.
In tearing myself away from Eugenia, I found the truth of the French adage, "Ce n'est que la premiere pas qui coite;" my heart grew lighter as I increased my distance from her. My father, to detach my mind still more from the unfortunate subject, spoke much of family affairs, of my brothers and sisters, and lastly named Mr. Somerville and Emily: here he touched on the right chord. The remembrance of Emily revived the expiring embers of virtue, and the recollection of the pure and perfect mistress of Hall, for a time, dismissed the
