merit, because there was no wise or right
intent, but simply a politic end in view.

Look at him, as he pushes along in the crowd! Notwithstanding his
millions, he is there a mere atom out of this world's creation. He has
not a sympathy beyond himself--not a hope which does not centre in
self--no connecting link with anything outside or beyond--no thought, no
emotion, no sense, no feeling, which are not produced by a desire to
advance the interests of "_H. Meeker_," here and hereafter.

* * * * *

We will go on in advance of Hiram, and enter his house before him.

It is one of the best in the city. Not showy, but large, ample, and well
constructed; indicating the abode of a solid man. It is situated in one
of the finest streets far 'up town.'

Before the door are two equipages. One is Mrs. Meeker's carriage, very
handsome and in exquisite taste. The other is a stylish single-seat
phaeton, with two horses tandem, and a rather flashy-looking servant in
gay livery.

Let us go into the house.

Mrs. Meeker is just preparing for a short shopping excursion before
dinner. At the distance from which we regard her, Time seems to have
dealt very kindly with her. The figure is quite the same, the style the
same, the face the same, and you see no gray hairs. In short, you behold
our old friend Arabella, slightly exaggerated, perhaps--but it is she.

She leaves her room, and prepares to descend.

As she passes to the top of the staircase, a faint voice exclaims:

'Mamma!'

Mrs. Meeker stops with an expression of impatience, turns, and enters
the adjoining apartment.

On a sort of couch or ottoman reclines a young lady, who, you can
perceive at a glance, is a victim of consumption.

It is their oldest child, who for five years has been an invalid, and
whose strength of late has been fast declining. One can hardly say how
she would have looked in health, for disease is a fearful ravager.
Still, Harriet (she is named for Mr. Meeker's mother) probably resembled
her own mother more than any one else in personal appearance, but beyond
that there was no resemblance whatever. Neither was she like her father,
but more like her grandfather Meeker, of whom her uncle says she always
reminds him. She possesses a kind and happy nature; and since she was
stricken by the terrible malady, she has grown day by day more gentle
and more heavenly, as her frame has been gradually weakened under its
insidious