"When?"
"At four o'clock this afternoon."
"Well, success to you. There are some rich widows in the Southern country, you know."
"I understand; but I'm rather sick of these operations. They are a little uncertain. But good-bye, and may you have better luck than your friend Smith."
"Good-bye." And the two young men shook hands cordially and parted.
At four o'clock Mr. Smith left for Baltimore—not the happiest man in the cars by a great deal.
Since that day the confiding young creature who had thrown all into the scale for him has neither seen him nor heard from him. To her the light of life seems fled for ever. Her face is very pale, and wears an expression of heart-touching misery. She is rarely seen abroad. Poor creature! In her one sad error, what a lifetime of sorrow has been involved!
Of all conditions in life, that of the young heiress, with her money in her own right, is peculiarly dangerous. The truly worthy shrink often from a tender of their affection, for fear their motives may be thought interested; while the mercenary push forward, and by well-directed flattery, that does not seem like flattery, win the prize they cannot appreciate.
There are such base wretches in society. Let those who most need to fear them be on their guard.
It is now but a few weeks since Thomas Fielding, who was despised and rejected by Margaretta, married a sweet girl in every way worthy of him. She is not rich in worldly goods, but she is rich in virtuous principles. The former Fielding does not need; but the latter he can cherish "as a holy prize."