from the connection, one-half of the profits of a business, the
receipts of which had for several years averaged over ten thousand
dollars. Mr. Cavendish soon found that he had done well to trust to the
gratitude of his young partner for inducing the most active exercise of
his powers. Stimulated by the desire to prove himself not unworthy of
such kindness, and to secure his generous friend from any loss, Herbert
never overlooked aught that could advance the interests, nor grew weary
of any task that could lighten the toil of Mr. Cavendish.

"Herbert, you really make me ashamed of myself, you are so constantly
busy that I seem idle in comparison," said Mr. Cavendish, as he prepared
one day to lay by his papers and leave the office at three o'clock.
"Pray put away those musty books, and bring Mrs. Latimer to dine with
us--this is a fete day with us. My daughter, who has been for two months
with her uncle and aunt in Washington, has returned, and I want to
introduce her to Mrs. Latimer."

"My mother will come to you with pleasure, I am sure."

"And you?"

"Will come too, if I possibly can. You dine at five?"

"Yes--and remember punctuality is the soul of dinner as well as of
business. So do not let the charms of Coke upon Lyttleton make you
forget that fair ladies and hungry gentlemen are expecting you." Mr.
Cavendish closed the door with a smiling face, and Herbert Latimer
turned for another hour to his books and papers. At a quarter before
five he stood with his mother in the drawing-room of Mr. Cavendish, and
received his first introduction to one who soon became the star of his
life.

Mary Cavendish was not beautiful--far less could the word pretty have
been applied to her--but she was lovely. All that we most love in woman,
all pure and peaceful thoughts, all sweet and gentle affections, seemed
to beam from her eyes, or to sit throned upon her fair and open brow.
She had enjoyed all the advantages, as it is termed, of a fashionable
education, but the influences of her home had been more powerful than
those of her school, and she remained what nature had made her--a
warm-hearted, truthful, generous, and gentle girl--too ingenuous for the
pretty affectations, too generous for the heartless coquetries which too
often teach us that the _accomplished_ young lady has sacrificed, for
her external refinement, qualities of a nobler stamp and more delicate
beauty. The only daughter among several children, she was an idol