she never would swerve from what she
thought was right."

"She must be a fine character, Japhet, but you will be in a dilemma:
indeed, it appears to me, that your troubles are now commencing instead
of ending, and that you would have been much happier where you were,
than you will be by being again brought out into the world. Your
prospect is not over-cheerful. You have an awkward father to deal with:
you will be under a strong check, I've a notion, and I am afraid you
will find that, notwithstanding you will be once more received into
society, all is vanity and vexation of spirit."

"I am afraid you are right, sir," replied I, "but at all events, it will
be something gained, to be acknowledged to the world by a father of good
family, whatever else I may have to submit to. I have been the sport of
Fortune all my life, and probably she has not yet done playing with me;
but it is late, and I will now wish you good night."

"Good night, Japhet; if I have any intelligence I will let you know.
Lady de Clare's address is Number 13, Park Street. You will, of course,
go there as soon as you can."

"I will, sir, after I have written my letters to my friends at Reading."

PART THREE, CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

I AM A LITTLE JEALOUS, AND, LIKE THE IMMORTAL WILLIAM BOTTOM, INCLINED
TO ENACT MORE PARTS THAN ONE--WITH A BIG EFFORT MY HANKERING AFTER
BIGAMY IS MASTERED BY MR MASTERTON--AND BY MY OWN GOOD SENSE.

I returned home to reflect upon what Mr Masterton had told me, and I
must say that I was not very well pleased with his various information.
His account of my mother, although she was no more, distressed me, and,
from the character which he gave of my father, I felt convinced that my
happiness would not be at all increased by my having finally attained
the long-desired object of my wishes. Strange to say, I had no sooner
discovered my father, but I wished that he had never turned up; and when
I compared the peaceful and happy state of existence which I had lately
enjoyed, with the prospects of what I had in future to submit to, I
bitterly repented that the advertisement had been seen by Timothy;
still, on one point, I was peculiarly anxious, without hardly daring to
anatomise my feelings; it was relative to Cecilia de Clare, and what Mr
Masterton had mentioned in the course of our conversation. The next
morning I wrote to Timothy and to Mr Cophagus, giving them a short
detail of what I had been informed by Mr Masterto