ry day, and has been content with
our society. That shows she could endure us to be always near her."

It was true, indeed. And I should explain here that, as things were in
America then, and with Mr. Faringfield and Margaret, neither of us was
entirely ineligible to the hand of so rich and important a man's
daughter; although the town would not have likened our chances to
those of a De Lancey, a Livingstone, or a Philipse. I ought to have
said before, that Philip was now of promising fortune. He had risen in
the employ of Mr. Faringfield, but, more than that, he had invested
some years' savings in one of that merchant's shipping ventures, and
had reinvested the profits, always upon his benefactor's advice, until
now his independence was a certain thing. If he indeed tried
architecture and it failed him as a means of livelihood, he might at
any time fall back upon his means and his experience as a merchant
adventurer. As for me, I also was a beneficiary of Mr. Faringfield's
mercantile transactions by sea, my mother, at his hint, having drawn
out some money from the English funds, and risked it with him.
Furthermore, I had obtained a subordinate post in the customs office,
with a promise of sometime succeeding to my father's old place, and
the certainty of remaining in his Majesty's service during good
behaviour. This meant for life, for I had now learned how to govern my
conduct, having schooled myself, for the sake of my mother's peace of
mind, to keep out of trouble, often against my natural impulses. Thus
both Phil and I might aspire to Margaret; and, moreover, 'twas like
that her father would provide well for her if she found a husband to
his approval. It did not then occur to me that my employment in the
English service might be against me in Mr. Faringfield's eyes.

"Then," said I, reaching the main point at last, "as you think we are
endurable to her--which of us shall it be?"

"Why, that question is for her to settle," said Phil, with a smile
half-amused, half-surprised.

"But she will have to be asked. So which of us--?"

"I don't think it matters," he replied. "If she prefers one of us, she
will take him and refuse the other, whether he ask first or last."

"But suppose she likes us equally. In that case, might not the first
asker win, merely for his being first?"

"I think it scarce possible but that in her heart she must favour one
above all others, though she may not know it yet."

"But it seems to