requent occasion to ask his advice, though everything
is directly managed by him; and the junior is accounted one of the
ablest, but at the same time one of the most honest, business men in
the city. His integrity has never been sacrificed, even to the
emergencies of trade. The man is what the boy was; and we can best sum
up the results of his life by saying that he has been true to himself,
true to his friends, and true to his God.

Mrs. Bright is still living at the little white cottage, happy in
herself and happy in her children. Bobby--we mean Mr. Bright--has
hardly missed going to Riverdale on a Saturday night since he left
home, eight years before. He has the same partiality for those famous
apple pies, and his mother would as soon think of being without bread
as being without apple pies when he comes home.

Of course Squire Lee and Annie were always glad to see him when he
came to Riverdale; and for two years it had been common talk in
Riverdale that our hero did not go home on Sunday evening when the
clock struck nine. But as this is a forbidden topic, we will ask the
reader to go with us to Mr. Bayard's house in Chestnut Street.

What! Annie Lee here?

No; but as you are here, allow me to introduce Mrs. Robert Bright.

They were married a few months before, and Mr. Bayard insisted that
the happy couple should make their home at his house.

But where is Ellen Bayard?

O, she is Mrs. Bigelow now, and her husband is at the head of a large
book establishment in New York.

Bobby's dream had been realized, and he was the happiest man in the
world--at least he thought so, which is just the same thing. He had
been successful in business; his wife--the friend and companion of his
youth, the brightest filament of the bright vision his fancy had
woven--had been won, and the future glowed with brilliant promises.

He had been successful; but neither nor all of the things we have
mentioned constituted his highest and truest success--not his business
prosperity, not the bright promise of wealth in store for him, not his
good name among men, not even the beautiful and loving wife who had
cast her lot with his to the end of time. These were successes, great
and worthy, but not the highest success.

He had made himself a man,--this was his real success,--a true, a
Christian man. He had lived a noble life. He had reared the lofty
structure of his manhood upon a solid foundation--principle. It is
the rock which the wi