ld have been safe."

"If they have the goods, won't they be satisfied?" asked Clara.

"You don't understand, my daughter, that all I have is at their command.
If the property does not liquidate the debts, then the house, the
carriage and horses, the furniture, the"----

The possible surrender of all that had made life pleasant to his family
was not to be considered without emotion, and Mr. Lindsay found himself
unable to finish the sentence.

"Dear father!" exclaimed Clara, seizing and kissing his hand, as she sat
down at his feet,--"you are just and noble. We could not be selfish or
complaining when we think of you. Let everything go. I love the dear old
house, the garden that has been your pride, the books and pictures; but
we shall be nearer together--shan't we, papa?--in a cottage. If they do
sell my piano, I can still sing to you; nobody can take that pleasure
from us."

"Bless you, my daughter! I feel relieved,--almost happy. Your cheerful
heart has given me new courage. Perhaps we shall not have to make the
sacrifices I dread. Whatever happens, my darling, your piano shall be
kept. I will sell my watch first. Your music will be twice as dear in
our days of adversity."

"Yes, papa,--if we keep the piano, I can give lessons."

"You give lessons? Nonsense! But get up, pussy; here, sit on my knee."

He fondled her like a child, and they all smiled through their
tears,--heavenly smiles! blissful tears! full of a feeling of which the
heart in prosperous days has no conception!

"One thing has happened to-day," said Mr. Lindsay, "that I shall never
forget,--an action so generous and self-forgetful that it makes one
think better of mankind. I remember hearing a preacher say that no
family knew all their capabilities of love until death had taken one of
their number,--not their love for the dead, but their deeper affection
for each other after the loss. I suppose every calamity brings its
compensations in developing noble traits of character; and it is almost
an offset to failure itself to have such an overflowing feeling as
this,--to know that there are so many sympathizing hearts. But what I
was going to speak of was the conduct of my clerk, Monroe. He is a fine
fellow,--rather more given to pictures and books and music than is good
for a business man; but with a clear head, a man's energy, and a woman's
heart. He has a widowed mother, whom he supports. I never knew he had
any property till to-day. It seems hi