ental and physical powers. Mr. Moncton laughed at what he termed my
affectation of moral integrity, and tried by every art to seduce me to
join in amusements, and visit scenes, from which my mind revolted; and
his own example served to strengthen my disgust. My resistance to such
temptations I do not ascribe to any inherent virtue in me; but I have
often observed in my subsequent journey through life, that young men,
whose knowledge of the world has chiefly been confined to books, and
who have never mingled much with persons of their own age, are guarded
from low vices by the romantic and beautiful ideal of life, which they
formed in solitude. The coarse reality is so shocking and degrading, so
repugnant to taste and good feeling, and all their preconceived notions
upon the subject, that they cannot indulge in it without remorse and a
painful sense of degradation. This was so completely my case, that I
often fled to solitude as a refuge from pleasures, so-called, which I
could not enjoy, and scenes in which I felt shame to be an actor.
Perhaps I was mainly indebted to the passion I had conceived for the
beautiful Catherine, which acted as a secret talisman in securing me
from the contaminating influences to which, in my new position, I was
often exposed. In the hope of meeting again the fair creature whose
image filled my soul, I had frequented theatres, operas, and mixed much
in society, but to no purpose; on this head I was still doomed to
suffer the most provoking disappointment.

One evening, I returned late from the office in Hatton Garden; my uncle
was from home, and a great press of business had detained me beyond the
usual dinner-hour, which was at six. The porter had scarcely admitted
me into the hall, when one of the footmen, with whom I was a great
favourite, addressed me with an air of mystery which I thought highly
amusing, he seemed so anxious to impress me with the importance of the
news he had to communicate.

"Mr. Geoffrey, Sir Alexander Moncton, my master's cousin, sir, is in
the dining-room, waiting to see you; and the dinner, sir, is waiting,
too. I told him, sir, that we expected Mr. Moncton home this evening,
and he bade his valet bring up his portmanteau from the hotel, and said
that he would wait here till master returned."

"Thank you, Saunders, for your information," cried I, hurrying off to
my chamber to dress for dinner.

I felt greatly excited at the prospect of the approaching interview