"Every thing looks neat and comfortable," I replied.
"It may do for them, but it wouldn't suit us."
"Whatever is accordant with our means should be made to suit us," said I, seriously. "You are no better off than Tyler."
"Do you think I could content myself in such a place?" he replied.
"Contentment is only found in the external circumstances that correspond to a man's pecuniary ability," was my answer to this. "Which, think you, is best contented? Tyler, in a small house, neatly furnished, and with a hundred dollars in his pocket; or you, in your large house, with a debt of six hundred dollars hanging over you?"
There was an instant change in my friend's countenance. The question seemed to startle him. He sighed, involuntarily.
"But all this won't lift my notes," said he, after the silence of a few minutes. "Good morning!"
Poor fellow! I felt sorry for him. He had been buying comfort at rather too large a price.
The more Brainard cast about in his mind for the means of lifting his notes, the more troubled did he become.
"I might borrow," said he to himself; "but how am I to pay back the sum?"