character, but she'd not be a fit wife for Frank.
These Southern women are educated with wrong ideas--they make poor wives
for poor men. He must marry a rich girl, or one brought up with
New-England habits. This one would bring him nothing, and spend all he
made.'

'But she is an only child, and her father is rich.'

'Pshaw! that is bosh! Preston always lived high, and I'll guarantee his
estate is bankrupt. I'm sorry for it, for he owes us.'

'Is that so! Largely?' 'No, not largely; how much is he overdrawn,
David?'

'Eighty-two hundred and odd.'

'I'm surprised at that,' I said. 'The old house did not allow such
things.'

'Neither do we; 'twas Cragin's work. He thought 'twould annoy Frank if
the drafts went back, and'--he hesitated a moment--'he insisted upon
it.'

'I am opposed to interfering in such matters. I always taught Frank to
think for himself,' I remarked.

'You taught him to think too much for himself. He is self-willed and
headstrong to a fault.'

'Perhaps his father might have trained him better, if--he had tried,' I
replied, with a slight sneer.

'Pardon me, Mr. Kirke, I meant no reflection on your management of him.
I only feel that this is a most important step, and he ought to be
advised. He should marry rich, for he has nothing, and can not rely upon
me.'

'He does not rely upon you; but he is a partner now, and his income
ought to enable him to support a wife.'

'His income is uncertain; he may not remain long in the concern,'
replied Mr. Hallet coolly.

David started; his face reddened to the roots of his hair, and he asked
in a sententious way, showing even in his expenditure of breath the
close economy that was the rule of his life: 'Who told you that, Mr.
Hallet?'

'No one,' replied that gentleman, seemingly surprised at the abrupt
question; 'I am deliberating on it myself. He is sowing dissension
between Cragin and me. The lowest boy in the office; even you, David,
pay more heed to him than to _me_.'

'That may be your own fault,' I said, a little sarcastically; 'if you
should treat him as Cragin and David do, you might have nothing to
complain of.'

'I treat him well, sir; but I make him _know his place_.' The last words
were emphasized in a hard, wicked tone.

Certain old recollections had been rushing across my memory during the
latter part of this conversation, and this last remark brought me to my
feet, as I said: 'You treat him like a dog, sir! I have seen it. If h