such times as his frequently unfortunate
investments left him in a state of necessity. These appeals were usually
made to Ona, and in a quiet way; but one day he met me on the street--it
was during the second winter you spent in my home--and dragging me into
a restaurant down town, began a long tale, to the effect that he wanted
a few thousands from me to put into a certain investment, which if
somewhat shady in its character, was very promising as to its results;
and gave as a reason why he applied to me for the money, that he knew I
had not been above doing a wrongful act once, in order to compass my
ends, and therefore would not be liable to hesitate now.

"It was the thunderbolt of my life. My sin was not then buried. It had
been known to this man from the start. With an insight for which I had
never given him credit, he had read my countenance in the days of my
early temptation, and guessed, if he did not know, where the five
thousand dollars came from with which I began my career as speculator.
Worse than that, he had led me on to the act by which he now sought to
hold me. Having been the secret agent in losing my aunt's money, he knew
at the time that I was cherishing empty hopes as regarded a legacy from
her, yet he let me dally with my expectations, and ensnare myself with
his daughter's fascinations, till driven mad by disappointment and
longing, I was ready to resort to any means to gain my purpose. It was a
frightful revelation to come to me in days when, if I were not a
thoroughly honest man, I had at least acquired a deep and ineradicable
dread of dishonor. Answering him I know not how, but in a way that while
it repudiated his proposition, unfortunately acknowledged the truth of
the suppositions upon which it was founded, I left him and went home, a
crushed and disheartened man. Life which had been so long in acquiring
cheerful hues, was sunk again in darkness; and for days I could not bear
the sight of your innocent face, or the sound of your pure voice, or the
tokens of your tender and unsuspecting presence in my home. But soon the
very natural thought came to comfort me, that the sin I so deplored was
as much dead now, as it was before I learned the fact of this man's
knowledge of it. That having repented and put it away, I was as free to
accept your gentle offices and the regard of all true men, as ever I had
been; and beguiled by this plausible consideration, I turned again to my
one visible source o