rce of habit, the interest afforded by my studies, and increasing
self-control, rendered my life less obnoxious to me than it had once
been.

"I had one great compensation for my trials--the love I cherished for
Emily, who responded to it with equal warmth on her part. It was not
because she stood between me and her father, a mediator and a friend;
nor because she submitted to my dictation and aided me in all my plans;
it was because our natures were made for each other, and, as they grew
and expanded, were bound together by ties which a rude hand only could
rend asunder. This tenderness and depth of affection became the life of
my life.

"At length my mother died. I was at that time, sorely against my will,
employed in Mr. Graham's counting-house, and an inmate of his family.
And now, without excuse, my step-father began a course of policy as
unwise as it was cruel; and so irritating to my pride, and so torturing
to my feelings, that it angered me almost to frenzy. He tried to rob me
of the only thing that sweetened and blest my existence--the love of
Emily. I will not here recount the motives I imputed to him, nor the
means he employed. But they were such as to change my former dislike
into bitter hatred and opposition.

"Instead of submitting to his tyrannical interference, I sought Emily's
society on all occasions, and persuaded the gentle girl to lend herself
to my schemes for thwarting her father's purposes. I did not speak to
her of love; I did not seek to bind her to me by promises; I hinted not
at marriage; a sense of honour forbade it. But, with a boyish
independence, which I fear was the height of imprudence, I sought every
occasion, even in her father's presence, to maintain that constant
familiarity of intercourse which had been the growth of circumstances,
and could not, without force, be restrained.

"At length Emily was taken ill, and for six weeks I was debarred her
presence. When sufficiently recovered to leave her room, I sought and at
last obtained an opportunity to see her. We had been together in the
library more than an hour when Mr. Graham suddenly entered, and came
towards us with a face whose severity I shall not soon forget. I did not
heed an interruption, for the probable consequences of which I believed
myself prepared. But I was little prepared for the attack actually made
upon me.

"That he would accuse me of disobedience to wishes which he had hinted
in every possible way, and even