., Mr. Bolton told the broker, in whom
he had great confidence, that he might buy the property for him, if he
could obtain it for any thing below two thousand dollars. This the
broker said he could easily do, as the business of foreclosure was in
his own hands.

In due time, Mr. Bolton was informed by his agent in the matter, that a
sale under the mortgage had taken place, and that, by means of the
little management proposed, he had succeeded in keeping away all
competition in bidding. The land, stock, farming implements, and all,
had been knocked down at a price that just covered the encumbrance on
the estate, and were the property of Mr. Bolton, at half their real
value.

"That was a good speculation," said the gray-headed money-lover, when
his agent informed him of what he had been doing.

"First-rate," replied the broker. "The farm is worth every cent of
three thousand dollars. Poor Gray! I can't help feeling sorry for him.
But it's his luck. He valued his farm at three thousand five hundred
dollars. A week ago he counted himself worth two thousand dollars,
clean. Now he isn't worth a copper. Fifteen hundred dollars and three
or four years' labour thrown away into the bargain. But it's his luck!
So the world goes. He must try again. It will all go in his lifetime."

"Gray? Is that the man's name?" inquired Mr. Bolton. His voice was
changed.

"Yes. I thought I had mentioned his name."

"I didn't remark it, if you did. It's the farm adjoining Harvey's, on
the north?"

"Yes."

"I have had it in my mind, all along, that it was the one on the south."

"No."

"When did you see Mr. Gray?"

"He was here about half an hour ago."

"How does he feel about the matter?"

"He takes it hard, of course. Any man would. But it's his luck, and he
must submit. It's no use crying over disappointments and losses, in
this world."

Mr. Bolton mused for a long time.

"I'll see you again to-morrow," he said, at length. "Let every thing
remain as it is until then."

The man who had been for so many years sold, as it were, to
selfishness, found himself checked at last by the thought of another.
While just in the act of grasping a money advantage, the interest of
another arose up, and made him pause.

"If it had been any one else," said he to himself, as he walked slowly
homeward, "all would have been plain sailing. But--but"--

The sentence was not finished.

"It won't do to turn HIM away," was at length uttered. "He