“All this, and much more, did he say; and I pitied him while he spoke.  Our conference then ended in nothing fixed;—­but—­he asked me to dine with him the next day.  In a word, while he forbade me at present to recur to the subject, he allowed me to see his daughter as often as I pleased:  this lasted for about ten days.  At the end of that time, when I made my usual morning visit, I saw D——­ alone; he appeared much agitated.  He was about, he said, to be arrested.  He was undone for ever—­and his poor daughter!—­he could say no more—­his manly heart was overcome—­and he hid his face with his hands.  I attempted to console him, and inquired the sum necessary to relieve him.  It was considerable; and on hearing it named, my power of consolation I deemed over at once.  I was mistaken.  But why dwell on so hacknied a topic as that of a sharper on the one hand, and a dupe on the other?  I saw a gentleman of the tribe of Israel—­I raised a sum of money, to be repaid when I came of age, and that sum was placed in D——­’s hands.  My intercourse with Lucy continued; but not long.  This matter came to the ears of one who had succeeded my poor aunt, now no more, as my guardian.  He saw D——­, and threatened him with penalties, which the sharper did not dare to brave.  My guardian was a man of the world; he said nothing to me on the subject, but he begged me to accompany him on a short tour through a neighbouring county.  I took leave of Lucy only for a few days as I imagined.  I accompanied my guardian—­was a week absent—­returned—­and hastened to the cottage; it was shut up—­an old woman opened the door—­they were gone, father and daughter, none knew whither!

“It was now that my guardian disclosed his share in this event, so terribly unexpected by me.  He unfolded the arts of D——­; he held up his character in its true light.  I listened to him patiently, while he proceeded thus far; but when, encouraged by my silence, he attempted to insinuate that Lucy was implicated in her father’s artifices—­that she had lent herself to decoy, to the mutual advantage of sire and daughter, the inexperienced heir of considerable fortunes,—­my rage and indignation exploded at once.  High words ensued.  I defied his authority—­I laughed at his menaces—­I openly declared my resolution of tracing Lucy to the end of the world, and marrying her the instant she was found.  Whether or not that my guardian had penetrated sufficiently into my character to see that force was not the means by which I was to be guided, I cannot say; but he softened from his tone at last—­apologized for his warmth—­condescended to soothe and remonstrate—­and our dispute ended in a compromise.  I consented to leave Mr. S——­, and to spend the next year, preparatory to my going to the university, with my guardian:  he promised, on the other hand, that if, at the end of that year, I still wished to discover Lucy, he would throw no obstacles in the way of my search.  I was ill-contented with this compact; but I was induced to it by my firm