undred thousand, they say; but to-morrow he may not have a
farthing. You know our New Yorkers. Nothing but bets, elections,
shares, railways, banks. His expenses are enormous; and, if he once
got his daughters off his hands, he would perhaps fail next week."

"And be so much the richer next year," replied I.

"Do you think so?" said the Yankee, musingly.

"Of course it would be so. Mean time you can marry the languishing
Margaret, and do like many others of your fellow citizens; go out
with a basket on your arm to the Greenwich market, and whilst your
delicate wife is enjoying her morning slumber, buy the potatoes and
salted mackerel for breakfast. In return for that, she will perhaps
condescend to pour you out a cup of bohea. Famous thing that bohea!
capital antidote to the dyspepsia!"

"You are spiteful," said poor Staunton.

"And you foolish," I retorted. "To a young barrister like you, there
are hundreds of houses open."

"And to you also."

"Certainly."

"And then I have this advantage--the girl likes me."

"I am liked by the papa and the mamma, and the girl too."

"Have you got five hundred thousand dollars?"

"No."

"Poor Howard!" cried Staunton, laughing.

"Go to the devil!" replied I, laughing also.

We had been chatting in this manner for nearly a quarter of an hour,
when a coach drove out of Greenwich Street, in which I saw a face
that I thought I knew. One of the Philadelphia steamers had just
arrived. I stepped forward.

"Stop!" cried a well-known voice.

"Stop!" cried I, hastening to the coach door.

It was Richards, my school and college friend, and my neighbour,
after the fashion of the southern states; for he lived only about a
hundred and seventy miles from me. I said good-by to poor simple
Staunton, got into the coach, and we rattled off through Broadway to
the American hotel.

"For heaven's sake, George!" exclaimed my friend, as soon as we were
installed in a room, "tell me what you are doing here. Have you quite
forgotten house, land, and friends? You have been eleven months
away."

"True," replied I; "making love--and not a step further advanced than
the first."

"The report is true, then, that you have been harpooned by the
Bowsends? Poor fellow! I am sorry for you. Just tell me what you mean
to do with the dressed-up doll when you get her? A young lady who has
not enough patience even to read her novels from beginning to end,
and who, before she was twelve years old, h