Alvord thought best to settle with his brothers and sisters according to the terms of the lost will, and to pay them out of his fourth the income of which they had been respectively deprived of for the five years and more. Old Boyd, of course, settled his affairs with Floramond to suit himself, and it is presumed that he did not lose money; but it may be that he lost the former's confidence. It must have been a bitter thing for old Boyd to consider how foolishly he played into Frederic Alvord's hands through the Wilcox letters. But old Boyd is dead now, and never, I suppose, learned how Mr. Alvord was led to inquire for old Andrew Wilcox's funny letters.
Margaret was overjoyed with the success of affairs, and declared, as did all the rest of the family, that after this she would consider nothing impossible, and never lose hope, even in the darkest hour. She is living still, a beautiful but older woman, with her children grown up about her, and married, I believe.
My "brother," the clerk, took to the profession of the law, and studied with old Boyd for a year or more, and finished his studies in Judge ——'s office, in Albany,—eventually marrying the young lady to whom I have alluded, and who brought him a fortune quite too large to be "laughed at;" but he did not continue at the profession long, but went into mercantile business, and is now a member, and has been for some years, of one of the most successful firms in New York city. The firm name is favorably known in all parts of the land. I should say that he was, through me, paid by Margaret a quite handsome sum of money for his "good behavior" in the premises; enough to enable him with economy to "pursue" his studies—and his lady. I have had many substantial reasons in my life for not forgetting the Alvord family, who believe that but for me they would still be lacking comfortable, indeed, large fortunes.
Floramond had enough with his one fourth; besides he had a fortune of his own. He ceased to persecute Margaret instantly on the development of his villany, and two years afterwards married a woman, who, I am told, came to learn of his conduct (which it was for sundry reasons attempted to keep secret in the family), and being a woman of spirit, and much extravagance, leads him a funny life—probably using her knowledge of his conduct as a means of controlling him.
Floramond, should this sketch ever meet his eye, is welcome to reflect that he was once out-generalled by a man, of whom, happening to see him (me) one day at the hotel in his village, he asked of the landlord, "Who is that simpleton?" The landlord was only able, of course, to give him my assumed name, and say that I was from "Sandy Hill, Washington County" (as I had registered myself), he believed.
"Yes; well I should think he was dug out of the sand, somewhere," was Floramond's response. I hope he still thinks so, for it must be a comfort to him.