from my indiscretion, and my infelicities daily augmented. Whenever I was censured, I was rendered more abundantly unhappy; and I formed a serious resolution to quit both the family of Mr. Little, and the country, and to seek an asylum in my native place—England. For many days I continued obdurate, no remonstrances could influence me; I must absolutely commence a traveller—I must go to England. I had no object, yet I must depart for England—I could not tell why, indeed. It was believed, I was distracted. What, relinquish fortune, and such connexions, and such a prospect? for it was generally believed, that I was to be united in marriage with Miss Little. Nay, her father was informed, by his kindred, that I was absolutely clandestinely seeking to gain the affection of the young lady; and that they believed I was already in possession of her heart. But Mr. Little gave no credit to this report; he knew, that my evenings were passed abroad, and that this was the only source of dissatisfaction. It happened, however, one evening, when I had been out late, and he, according to custom, retired to rest, I found, on my return home, Miss Little waiting in the parlour, for the purpose of making a communication, which she conceived would be of consequence to me. We sat some time in a conversation, by which we were mutually interested; she made known to me the invidious remarks of her uncles, and aunts, and their displeasure at her, for not uniting with them in their sentiments; she dwelt upon the grief, which my inattention to the wishes of her parents occasioned them; and, upon this part of her subject, she became affected even to tears. I also was greatly affected, and for the first time in my life, taking her hand, I impressed upon it a kiss of fraternal affection; when to our great astonishment, her father entered the apartment. Had we seen a spectre, we could not have been more appalled. He stood for some moments speechless, until fixing his eyes indignantly on my face, which was certainly covered with confusion, in a very pointed and significant manner, he said, "So, sir;" and, taking his daughter by the hand, he conducted her from the parlour, leaving me to my own reflections. Words are inadequate to a description of my agonies, during the residue of that night. An idea of Miss Little, in any other character than that of a very dear sister, had never crossed my mind; yet suspicion was now furnished with a weapon against me, which would abundantly enforce the reports retailed to Mr. Little, by his kindred. I have often wondered, that, at an age so susceptible of impression, I did not become more warmly attached to Miss Little; she was a most lovely,
