ifficulty."

"What is that?"

"Why, I owe at least that sum; and I cannot stay here unless it is
paid."

"That is bad."

"Out of the fifty thousand I could have squared up, and it would not
have been felt. But I cannot use the whole eight thousand, and look
Margaretta and her aunt in the face again. And if I don't pay my
debts, you see, to prison I must go."

"You are in a narrow place, truly. Well, what are you going to do?"

"A question more easily asked than answered. Among my debts are
about, four thousand dollars that must be paid whether or no."

"Why?"

"They are _debts of honour!_"

"Ah, indeed! that is bad. You will have to settle them."

"Of course!" Then, in a loud and emphatic whisper, he said--

"And I _have_ settled them!"

"Indeed! Well, what next? How will you account to your wife for the
deficiency?"

"Account to my wife!" and as he said this, he ground his teeth
together, while his lip curled. "Don't talk to me in that way,
Perkins, and cause me to hate the woman I have deceived and
injured!"

"But what _are_ you going to do, Smith?"

"I am going to clear out with the balance of the money in my pocket.
I can't stay here, that's settled; and I'm not going away penniless,
that's certain. Margaretta's old aunt has money enough, and can take
care of her--so she's provided for. And I've no doubt but that
she'll be happier without me than with me."

"Where are you going?"

"Somewhere down South."

"When?"

"At four o'clock this afternoon."

"Well, success to you. There are some rich widows in the Southern
country, you know."

"I understand; but I'm rather sick of these operations. They are a
little uncertain. But good-bye, and may you have better luck than
your friend Smith."

"Good-bye." And the two young men shook hands cordially and parted.

At four o'clock Mr. Smith left for Baltimore--not the happiest man
in the cars by a great deal.

Since that day the confiding young creature who had thrown all into
the scale for him has neither seen him nor heard from him. To her
the light of life seems fled for ever. Her face is very pale, and
wears an expression of heart-touching misery. She is rarely seen
abroad. Poor creature! In her one sad error, what a lifetime of
sorrow has been involved!

Of all conditions in life, that of the young heiress, with her money
in her own right, is peculiarly dangerous. The truly worthy shrink
often from a tender of their affection, for fear t