winter it had been, "my brother, De Woolfe," whom all the young
ladies in Mrs. Minor's set were wild over.

Fred gave a sigh.

"I suppose I _can_ do something to earn my bread," he replied bitterly.

"Fred," began Agatha suddenly, "there is that Miss Tillon. You know how
absolutely wild she was over you last winter! Her fortune is all in her
own right, and it is a solid one too. Hamilton has had occasion to know
about it. You cannot do a better thing than marry her."

Fred glanced up. His sister was in sober earnest. To be bargained off
like a woman, for a bare existence! Miss Tillon was at least thirty, of
a suspicious, jealous turn of mind, well-enough looking perhaps, but
narrow, with no intellectual culture, no approval of any thing beside
her money. He had been amused at her preference. Possibly she might
marry him, and rescue him from the pains of poverty. And he?

He might be vain and trifling, but he was not sunk so low in cowardice.
His face flushed a vivid scarlet.

"I am not quite prepared to become chargeable to a woman yet," he said
in a cold, calm voice.

"What nonsense! Some man will marry her, and get the money," Agatha
retorted decisively.

"Not much of hers;" in a dry, contemptuous tone.

"You know what I mean. She will live in style, and travel; and her
husband"--

"Will be the laughing-stock of his friends," interrupted Fred angrily.
"No, Agatha, I will be dependent upon no one for my bread: if I cannot
earn it I will starve."

"Oh, very well!" with a scornful smile. "I only hope Rene will be wiser.
They are in Paris--I heard from Gertrude last week. She was very much
shocked, of course. I hope George has not been foolish enough to let
every thing slip through his fingers. Who could have believed that
Horace Eastman would turn out such a swindler! Papa trusted him
altogether too far. It does not answer to be too noble and disinterested
in this world."

Fred made no reply to this charming bit of worldly wisdom. His delicate
and high opinion of self had received a crushing blow. Married off, out
of hand, to save him from poverty!

Why should his thoughts turn to Sylvie at that moment? Something stirred
within him, an insane desire to win her--oh, mad enough, surely! He
could, he _would_, do something! There was all his education and talent;
yes, he really had talent. He would make himself famous. She should see
that he had the right kind of stuff in him. He would climb up the hard
hil