fashioned man, whom the gayer part of the world laughs at, and then
I am too occupied with the Book of Books to think of any less important
study."

Not deeming that a peculiar reply was required to this pious speech,
Glendower did not take that advantage of Crauford's pause which it was
evidently intended that he should. With a glance towards the student's
wife, our mercantile friend continued: "I did once--once in my young
dreams--intend that whenever I married I would relinquish a profession
for which, after all, I am but little calculated. I pictured to myself a
country retreat, well stored with books; and having concentrated in one
home all the attractions which would have tempted my thoughts abroad, I
had designed to surrender myself solely to those studies which, I lament
to say, were but ill attended to in my earlier education. But--but"
(here Mr. Crauford sighed deeply, and averted his face) "fate willed it
otherwise!"

Whatever reply of sympathetic admiration or condolence Glendower might
have made was interrupted by one of those sudden and overpowering
attacks of faintness which had of late seized the delicate and declining
health of his wife. He rose, and leaned over her with a fondness and
alarm which curled the lip of his visitor.

"Thus it is," said Crauford to himself, "with weak minds, under the
influence of habit. The love of lust becomes the love of custom, and the
last is as strong as the first."

When--she had recovered, she rose, and (with her child) retired to
rest, the only restorative she ever found effectual for her complaint.
Glendower went with her, and, after having seen her eyes, which swam
with tears of gratitude at his love, close in the seeming slumber
she affected in order to release him from his watch, he returned to
Crauford. He found that gentleman leaning against the chimney-piece with
folded arms, and apparently immersed in thought. A very good opportunity
had Glendower's absence afforded to a man whose boast it was never
to lose one. Looking over the papers on the table, he had seen and
possessed himself of the address of the bookseller the student dealt
with. "So much for business, now for philanthropy," said Mr. Crauford,
in his favorite antithetical phrase, throwing himself in his attitude
against the chimney-piece.

As Glendower entered, Crauford started from his revery, and with a
melancholy air and pensive voice said,--

"Alas, my friend, when I look upon this humble