“Yes, yes,” said Cophagus, “see father—­shake hands—­come back—­heh!—­ settle here—­and so on.”

“I shall not be altogether my own master, perhaps,” observed I.  “If my father desires that I remain with him, must not I obey?  But I know nothing at present.  You shall hear from me.  Timothy can take my place in the—­” I could not bear the idea of the word shop, and I stopped.  Susannah, for the first time, looked me earnestly in the face, but she said nothing.  Mr and Mrs Cophagus, who probably had been talking over the subject of our conversation, and thought this a good opportunity to allow me to have an eclaircissement with Susannah, left the room, saying they would look after my portmanteau and linen.  “Susannah,” said I, “you do not appear to rejoice with me.”

“Japhet Newland, I will rejoice at everything that may tend to thy happiness, believe me; but I do not feel assured but that this trial may prove too great, and that thou mayst fall away.  Indeed, I perceive even now that thou art excited with new ideas, and visions of pride.”

“If I am wrong, forgive me.  Susannah, you must know that the whole object of my existence has been to find my father; and now that I have every reason to suppose that my wish is obtained, can you be surprised, or can you blame me, that I long to be pressed in his arms?”

“Nay, Japhet, for that filial feeling I do commend thee; but ask thy own heart, is that the only feeling which now exciteth thee?  Dost thou not expect to find thy father one high in rank and power?  Dost thou not anticipate to join once more the world which thou hast quitted, yet still hast sighed for?  Dost thou not already feel contempt for thy honest profession:—­nay, more, dost thou not only long to cast off the plain attire, and not only the attire, but the sect which in thy adversity thou didst embrace the tenets of?  Ask thy own heart, and reply if thou wilt, but I press thee not so to do; for the truth would be painful, and a lie, thou knowest, I do utterly abhor.”

I felt that Susannah spoke the truth, and I would not deny it.  I sat down by her.  “Susannah,” said I, “it is not very easy to change at once.  I have mixed for years in the world, with you I have not yet lived two.  I will not deny but that the feelings you have expressed have risen in my heart, but I will try to repress them; at least, for your sake, Susannah, I would try to repress them, for I value your opinion more than that of the whole world.  You have the power to do with me as you please:—­will you exert that power?”

“Japhet,” replied Susannah, “the faith which is not built upon a more solid foundation than to win the favour of an erring being like myself is but weak; that power over thee which thou expectest will fix thee in the right path, may soon be lost, and what is then to direct thee?  If no purer motives than earthly affection are to be thy stay, most surely thou wilt fall.  But no more of this;