hich many of them make
money. That is what they are doing, and the public is getting used to
it."

"Well," said Margaret, with some warmth, "I don't know that they are any
worse than the stingy saints who have made their money by saving, and act
as if they expected to carry it with them."

"Saints or sinners, it does not make much difference to me," now put in
Mrs. Fletcher, who was evidently considering the question from a
practical point of view, "what a man professes, if he founds a hospital
for indigent women out of the dividends that I never received."

Morgan laughed. "Don't you think, Mrs. Fletcher, that it is a good sign
of the times, that so many people who make money rapidly are disposed to
use it philanthropically?"

"It may be for them, but it does not console me much just now."

"But you don't make allowance enough for the rich. Perhaps they are under
a necessity of doing something. I was reading this morning in the diary
of old John Ward of Stratford-on-Avon this sentence: 'It was a saying of
Navisson, a lawyer, that no man could be valiant unless he hazarded his
body, nor rich unless he hazarded his soul.'"

"Was Navisson a modern lawyer?" I asked.

"No; the diary is dated 1648-1679."

"I thought so."

There was a little laugh at this, and the talk drifted off into a
consideration of the kind of conscience that enables a professional man
to espouse a cause he knows to be wrong as zealously as one he knows to
be right; a talk that I should not have remembered at all, except for
Margaret's earnestness in insisting that she did not see how a lawyer
could take up the dishonest side.

Before Margaret went to Lenox, Henderson spent a few days with us. He
brought with him the amounding cheerfulness, and the air of a prosperous,
smiling world, that attended him in all circumstances. And how happy
Margaret was! They went over every foot of the ground on which their
brief courtship had taken place, and Heaven knows what joy there was to
her in reviving all the tenderness and all the fear of it! Busy as
Henderson was, pursued by hourly telegrams and letters, we could not but
be gratified that his attention to her was that of a lover. How could it
be otherwise, when all the promise of the girl was realized in the bloom
and the exquisite susceptibility of the woman? Among other things, she
dragged him down to her mission in the city, to which he went in a
laughing and bantering mood. When he had gone away,