Living Too Fast E-Book

Oliver Optic

• Herausgeber: Oliver Optic
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

The story contained in this volume records the experience of a bank officer, “living too fast,” in the downward career of crime. The writer is entirely willing now to believe that this career ought to have ended in the state prison; but his work is a story, and he has chosen—perhaps unhappily—to punish the defaulter in another way. Yet running through the narrative for the sake of the contrast, is the experience of a less showy, but more honest young man than the principal character, who represents the true life the young business man ought to lead. The author is not afraid that any of his young friends who may read this book will be tempted into an “irregularity” by the example of the delinquent bank officer, for it will be found that his career of crime is full of remorse and positive suffering.

Leseprobe

Living Too Fast

Or The Confessions of a Bank Officer

By

Oliver Optic

A Lonely House.

PREFACE.

The story contained in this volume records the experience of a bank officer, “living too fast,” in the downward career of crime. The writer is entirely willing now to believe that this career ought to have ended in the state prison; but his work is a story, and he has chosen—perhaps unhappily—to punish the defaulter in another way. Yet running through the narrative for the sake of the contrast, is the experience of a less showy, but more honest young man than the principal character, who represents the true life the young business man ought to lead. The author is not afraid that any of his young friends who may read this book will be tempted into an “irregularity” by the example of the delinquent bank officer, for it will be found that his career of crime is full of remorse and positive suffering.

Dorchester, July 1, 1876.

CHAPTER I.GETTING A SITUATION.

“I DON’T wish to stand in your way, Tom Flynn.”

“And I don’t wish to stand in your way, Paley Glasswood,” replied Tom, with a refreshing promptness, which was intended to assure me, and did assure me, that he was my friend, and that he was unwilling to take any unfair advantage of me.

Tom and myself were applicants for the situation of discount clerk in the Forty-ninth National Bank of Boston. We had submitted our applications separately, and each without the knowledge of the other. If we had taken counsel together before doing so, possibly some sentimental outbreak would have prevented one or the other from placing himself even in a seeming attitude of competition with the other. We had been schoolmates in Springhaven, had been cronies, and agreed as well as boys usually do. It is true he had given me a tremendous thrashing on one occasion, when I ventured to regard myself as physically his equal. Though I could not quite forgive him for the drubbing he gave me, I did not respect him any the less. While we were good friends, as the world goes, I was sometimes rather annoyed by the consciousness of being slightly his inferior.

Tom was always a little ahead of me in scholarship, and always contrived to come out just in advance of me in every thing in which we were brought into real or fancied rivalry with each other. Still he was never so far before me as to shut me out of the sphere in which he moved. But in spite of my repeated partial defeats, I regarded myself as fully his equal. Perhaps my vanity assured me that I was slightly his superior, for, like the rest of the world, I was human then, as I have unfortunately proved myself to be since. I was tolerably sure that in the great battle of life which all of us are compelled to fight, I should come out all right. When it came to the matter of business, I was confident that I should outstrip him.

Both of us had been graduated at the Springhaven High School, with the highest honors, though as usual Tom was a little higher than myself, for while he received the first diploma, the second was awarded to me. Tom was my friend, and always treated me with the utmost kindness and consideration, but I could not help feeling just a little stung by his superiority; by his continually coming out about half a length ahead of me. Springhaven is not so far from the metropolis of New England as to be regarded as a provincial town; and though engaging in business anywhere except in the great city was not the height of his or my ambition, Tom had gone into a store in his native place, and obtained his earliest knowledge of the ways of the world. But when he was twenty-one he obtained a situation in an office in the city in which he received a salary of six hundred dollars a year.

Again, at this interesting period of life which seems to be the beginning of all things to a young man, Tom was ahead of me, for I had gone to the city as a boy of sixteen, and when I was of age, my employers refused to give me over five hundred a year. Tom had been lucky—this was my view of the case. Tom had blundered into a good situation, and it was no merit of his own. I deserved something better than I had, and it was only the stupid and stingy policy of the firm which had “brought me up” that rendered my position inferior to that of my friend.

I had one advantage over my friendly rival, however, in my own estimation. My character was above suspicion, which could not be said of Tom, though in the city not a word affecting his reputation had ever been breathed, so far as I was aware. At the store in Springhaven where Tom had served two years as a clerk, several sums of money had been missed. There was no proof that Tom took them, but a few people in town knew that he was suspected of the theft, especially as he appeared to be living beyond his income. I do not believe my friend even knew that he was suspected of the theft, but inasmuch as he was the only person besides the two partners who had access to the safe where the money was kept, it seemed probable to Mr. Gorham, the senior member, that he was guilty.

It was a serious matter, and the two partners used every effort to discover the thief. They put decoys in the safe, such as marked bank bills, and resorted to various expedients, but it always happened that none of these traps were ever disturbed. Though various sums mysteriously disappeared, the decoys were never touched. Mr. Gorham declared that Tom was too smart for him, and Mr. Welch, the junior, never said much about the matter. At a convenient time, without stating any reason for the step, Tom was informed that his services were no longer required; that a change in the business rendered them unnecessary. The junior partner retired from the firm, and the senior carried on the store alone.

Mr. Gorham was a relative of my mother, and knowing of my intimacy with Tom, he regarded it as his duty to inform her of the suspicions which he entertained. My mother was shocked and appalled. Tom was the son of one of the best men in the town, and as there was no direct proof of the crime, it was not deemed expedient to say anything about it. Mr. Gorham did not say anything, except to my mother, and she, appreciating the kindness of her kinsman, faithfully promised to keep the momentous secret. Probably there were not a half dozen persons in Springhaven who knew that Tom left his place under suspicion, and those were the family and intimate friends of the storekeeper.

I will not say that the knowledge of this circumstance afforded me any satisfaction, but it helped me to feel that I was the superior of Tom; that in being honest I had a decided advantage over him. I could not disbelieve the story as it came from the lips of my mother, though it was possible there was some mistake. Within three years after the change in the firm of Gorham & Welch, the junior partner “went to destruction,” and in the light of this after revelation, it was possible that he had appropriated the money. Mr. Gorham hinted as much to my mother, and she, knowing that Tom and myself were still intimate, gave me the suggestion as a confirmation of what I had always said in his defence. I had found it quite impossible to dissolve my relations with Tom, strongly as my mother desired it. Without exactly believing that he was guilty of the whispered iniquity, I felt that he would be a sufferer on account of it.

The position in the bank for which we were both applicants, was considered a remarkably good one for a young man like Tom or me. I had considerable influence which I could bring to bear upon the directors, and so had my friend, but it seemed to be an even thing between him and me. In the light of past experience, I felt that Tom would get ahead of me again, and I was intensely anxious to succeed, in order that I might regain the ground I had continually lost.

I have called my book “Confessions.” I mean that they shall be such; and of course I do not set myself up as a model man. I did wrong, and that was the source of all my misery. I shall not, therefore, deem it necessary to apologize for each individual fault of which I was guilty. My readers can blame me as they will—and I deserve the severest censure. I have sent grief and dismay into the bosoms of my friends, and my story is a warning voice to all who are disposed to yield to the temptations which beset every man in his business relations.

I met Tom Flynn on the street, and I think he was sincerely desirous not to step into my path. I am confident he had a genuine regard for me, and that, if he could have been sure of securing the situation in the bank to me by withdrawing from the competition himself, he would have done so on the moment. But there were other applicants, and if he retired from the field at all, he was as likely to do it in favor of some stranger as of me.

“I should like the place, Tom, though I don’t wish to stand in your way,” I added; but in saying so, I am afraid I only indulged in a conventional form of speech, desiring only to appear to be as generous and self-sacrificing as he was.

“Of course it is my duty to do as well as I can for myself, but if I can get out of your way without losing the chance for one of us, I will do so.”

“Thank you, Tom. That’s handsome, and I would do as much for you; but as neither of us can foresee the issue, we will each do the best he can to get the place. That’s fair.”

“Certainly it is; and whichever is successful, there shall be no hard feelings on the part of the other.”

At that moment Tom raised his hat to a lady, and turning from me spoke to her. She was a beautiful creature, and though it would have been quite proper for me to terminate the interview, I was not inclined to do so, for the lady filled my eye, and I could not help looking at her.

“Be sure and come, Mr. Flynn,” said she.

“I shall certainly go if nothing unforeseen occurs,” replied he. “Miss Oliphant, allow me to make you acquainted with my particular friend, Mr. Paley Glasswood,” he added, turning to me.

I was very glad indeed to know her, for I could not remember that any lady had ever before made so captivating an impression upon me, even after a much longer acquaintance. She was not only very pretty, but she was elegantly dressed, and I concluded that she belonged to some “nobby” family. I was pleased with her, and said some of the prettiest things I could invent for the occasion. I hoped we should meet again.

“Mr. Flynn, you must bring your friend with you to-morrow evening,” she continued.

“Thank you, Miss Oliphant; I should be delighted to take him with me, and as he is here, he can speak for himself,” replied Tom.

“Just a quiet little party of half-a-dozen at our house, to-morrow evening. I hope you will come, Mr. Glasswood,” she added.

“I should be very happy to join you, and I will do so,” I answered.

She was very pretty, and she seemed to grow prettier every moment that I looked at her. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled so sweetly, that I am forced to acknowledge I experienced a new sensation in her presence. I repeated my promise to join the little party, and no entreaty was necessary to render me a willing follower. She bowed and passed on, mingling with the bright throng that gaily flitted up and down Washington Street. My eyes followed her till she was lost in the crowd, and I almost forgot that I was an applicant for the situation of discount clerk in the Forty-ninth National Bank.

“Well, Paley, they say the place will be filled at the meeting of the directors to-morrow forenoon,” said Tom, calling me away from the sea of moonshine in which I was at that moment floating, as my eyes followed the graceful form of Miss Oliphant.

“So I have been told, and we shall have but little time left to work. By the way, who is Miss Oliphant?”

“She is a very pretty girl,” laughed Tom.

“Tell me what I don’t know. What is she?”

“She is the daughter of a small merchant, who is in rather shaky circumstances, they say. He lives on Tremont Street, and has three marriageable daughters.

“If they are all as passable as the one I have just seen, their chances are good.”

“I don’t know about that,” added Tom, laughing. “Miss Lilian dresses magnificently, you perceive; and whoever marries one of those girls will find money a cash article. You shall see them all to-morrow.”

“I should say that a wife like this Miss Oliphant was cheap at any price.”

“I think so myself, if a fellow can afford such an expensive luxury. But, Paley, we must not waste our time,” added Tom, glancing at the Old South clock. “I must find a man who can do a good thing for me at the bank.”

“So must I.”

We parted, and as I walked down the street, I could not help recalling the vision of loveliness I had beheld in the person of Miss Lilian Oliphant. I was on my way to one of the insurance offices frequented by my uncle, Captain Halliard, a retired shipmaster, who dabbled in stocks, and was a director in the Japan Marine Insurance Company. He had influence, and I relied principally upon him to engineer my application at the bank. He was a man of the world in the broadest sense of the term. He believed in making money, and in getting ahead in business, and though he paid a reasonable respect to conventional forms, I am not quite certain that he believed in anything higher. In character and purposes, he was the very antipode of my mother, whose brother he was.

I found him reading a newspaper in the office. He dropped it when he saw me, and I thought he looked very anxious. He had undertaken to procure me the situation I was ambitious to obtain, and though I don’t think he cared much for me individually, he was persistent in carrying out any scheme upon which he had fixed his mind.

“Paley, your chance is small,” said he, candidly, after we had passed the time of day.

My heart sank within me.

“I am sorry to hear it,” I replied, gloomily.

“Tom Flynn has the inside track.”

As usual! It seemed to be laid down as the immutable law of circumstances that Tom should always come out just a little ahead of me. I was vexed. Tom had six hundred dollars a year, while I had but five hundred. It was cruel and unjust to me. His income was to be doubled, and mine to remain as it was.

“I was afraid Tom would get ahead of me,” I added. “But I would rather he should have the place than any other person, if I can’t get it.”

“Nonsense, Paley. Don’t talk bosh! I haven’t given up all hope yet, by any means. Tom is well enough, I dare say, but you must have this place, if possible.”

“I should like to have it,” I added, hopelessly.

“Paley, what was that story about Tom which was kept so still in Springhaven?” continued Captain Halliard in a low tone. “I heard your mother say something about it, when she was speaking about your being intimate with him. I have forgotten about it.”

“His employers in Springhaven thought that he took money from the safe.”

“Exactly so; that was the idea,” added my uncle, rubbing his hands involuntarily.

“But I don’t think there was any foundation for the suspicion,” I protested, rather faintly, too faintly to produce any decided effect.

“We are not called upon to try the case,” he replied, chuckling at his own cunning.

“But I don’t wish to have anything to say about that old affair.”

“Then you needn’t have anything to say about it, except to me. I have begun to manage this business, and I shall finish it.”

“I don’t want to injure Tom in the estimation of any one,” I added.

“Don’t be a spooney, Paley. You must look out for your own chances. You can have this place, if we can get Tom off the track.”

Although I was not the author of the brilliant idea foreshadowed in my uncle’s remarks, I permitted him to develop it. I told him all I knew about Tom’s affair with Gorham & Welch. If I stated that those who knew anything about the matter now generally believed that the junior partner was the thief, I stated it so mildly that my uncle took no notice of it. I confess that I virtually assented to his scheme; at least, I offered no decided opposition to it. I knew that Captain Halliard had only to whisper the fact that Tom had been suspected, and had lost his situation in consequence of this suspicion, to throw my chief competitor out of the field.

Practically, I assented to the scheme; if I did anything to prevent its being carried into execution, I only “fastened the door with a boiled carrot.” I wanted the place, not alone for its emoluments, but in order, in the race of life, to surpass my friend. I regard this weak yielding as my first crime—the crime against my friend, one of the basest and most loathsome in the calendar of offences. This was my real fall; and it was this, it has since seemed to me, which made me capable of all that followed.

I left my uncle in the office, and went back to the store in which I was employed. Between the bright vision of Miss Oliphant’s loveliness and the dark one of my own perfidy, I was nervous and uneasy all the rest of the day. What was the use of being over nice? If I did not look out for myself, no one would look out for me! I think I did not sleep an hour that night, and the next day I performed my duties mechanically. About one o’clock I was rather startled to see Tom Flynn enter the counting-room.

“Paley, my dear fellow, I congratulate you,” said he, grasping my hand.

“What’s the matter, Tom?” I asked.

“Why, haven’t you heard of it?”

“Heard of what?”

“You have been appointed discount clerk in the Forty-ninth National Bank. ’Pon my soul, I am glad to be the first to tell you of it,” added Tom, with enthusiasm, as he rung my hand.

Iniquity had prospered, but only for a time.

CHAPTER II.MISS LILIAN OLIPHANT.

HOW could I look Tom Flynn in the face, after what I had done, or permitted to be done? He had been my competitor in the race for the situation in the bank, and probably would have obtained it if my uncle had not whispered the old slander in the ears of Mr. Bristlebach, the president. It is true this plan had originated with Captain Halliard, but I consented to it, to say the very least. I could have prevented him from carrying it into operation. I could have protested in the strongest of terms that there was no truth in the story, and that I would not take the place if it were procured for me by such a base sacrifice of honor and integrity.

I did not do so. If I protested at all, it was so faintly that my worldly-minded uncle only regarded it as a piece of “buncombe.” It is not for me to blame him, for I regard myself as equally guilty of the infamous deed—more guilty, for Tom was my friend. It is a satisfaction for me now to know that I blushed when my old schoolfellow entered the counting-room; and to remember that my conscience stung me like a hot iron when he informed me that the situation had been given to me. It was not the glorious triumph which I had anticipated, and I could hardly felicitate myself that I was to step immediately into the enjoyment of a salary of twelve hundred a year. I could not even enjoy the triumph of being, for once, actually ahead of my fortunate friend.

“I congratulate you, Paley, with all my soul,” said Tom, with enthusiasm. “I should have liked the place myself, but I am really better satisfied with the result, than I should have been if I had been successful.”

“You don’t mean that, Tom,” I suggested; and I felt that I was almost incapable of giving birth to a lofty emotion.

“‘Pon my word, I do, Paley. I was thinking this forenoon that, if the place fell to me, I should reproach myself for having stood in your way. I never should have felt just right about it. Now I am satisfied—more than satisfied; I am delighted with the result.”

“I thank you, Tom. I didn’t expect any such magnanimity from any person in this world;” but I comforted myself with the thought that, if the place had been assigned to him, he would have contrived to endure the disappointment which fell to my lot.

“If I had known that you were an applicant, with any chance of success, I would not have entered the field. But it is all right as it is; and I am as much pleased as you are,” added Tom.

“I don’t exactly see how I happened to get the place,” I replied, in order to tempt him to tell what he knew about the canvass, rather than because I was astonished at the result.

“I do,” answered Tom, laughing. Your uncle, Captain Halliard, has a great deal of influence with Mr. Bristlebach, the president. Rhodes—you know Rhodes?”

“I know of him; he’s book-keeper in the Forty-ninth National.”

“Yes; well, he says Captain Halliard had a long talk with Mr. Bristlebach this forenoon. I have no doubt he made a strong personal appeal for you, and that settled the case.”

I should very gladly have believed that I owed my good luck to the personal influence of my uncle, but I was confident that he had used that old slander to procure my appointment. Tom left me after I had promised to meet him at Mr. Oliphant’s in the evening. I was sad, and I felt mean. I was tempted to go to Mr. Bristlebach and undo what my uncle had done. I could even procure a letter from Mr. Gorham testifying to the integrity of Tom. Alas! I had not the courage to do justice to my friend. A salary of twelve hundred dollars was too glittering a prize to be thrown away; and after all it was possible that Tom had been guilty—possible, but not at all probable.

Before the store closed I received official notice of my appointment, and informed my employers of my intention to leave them. They did not say much, and I am not sure that they were very sorry to have me go. I went to my boarding-house, and dressed myself with the utmost care for the occasion in the evening. Miss Lilian Oliphant was a bright vision before my eyes. I wondered that she had been condescending enough to notice a person so insignificant as I was. I was thinking only of her, and as the happy moment drew near when I was to see her again, I even forgot my own infamy towards Tom.

Twelve hundred a year! It was an immense sum for a young fellow like me, and with such a foundation for an air-castle, I pictured to myself a pleasant home with Lilian as the presiding genius of the place, shedding unutterable bliss upon my existence. Twelve hundred dollars would hire a house, furnish it, and enables me to live like a lord. If Lilian did dress well, if she was rather extravagant, I could stand the pressure with the magnificent income which would be mine.

I was admitted to the parlor in which the family were seated. Tom and two other gentlemen were there, conversing with the young ladies, all of whom were dressed elegantly, and were evidently “got up” for the purpose of making an impression. Miss Lilian gave me a cordial welcome, and introduced me to the rest of the party. Mr. Oliphant had heard of my good fortune. He congratulated me, and did me the honor to say that I should soon be the cashier of the Forty-ninth National Bank. I was treated with distinguished consideration, and, without exactly knowing why, I felt myself to be the lion of the occasion. Discount clerk of the bank, I was a bigger man than any of the gentlemen present.

Miss Lilian was very gracious to me, but I bore my honors with tolerable meekness. I tried to avoid putting on any airs, and I think I produced a favorable impression. We played whist, and Lilian was my partner; I did not do myself justice, for I was so fascinated by her loveliness that I could not keep my thoughts about me, and Tom and Miss Bertha beat us badly. But Miss Lilian attributed our misfortune to ill-luck, and smiled as sweetly as ever. I may as well hasten to the catastrophe, and declare at once that I was deeply and irretrievably smitten, as I had intended to be from the first. She was very kind to me, and seemed to look with a favorable eye upon me; but I could not, of course, know whether she would accept me. I was fearful that she would require even a bigger man than the discount clerk of the Forty-ninth National Bank.

I left the house at eleven o’clock with the most intense regret. I knew not how soon I might see her again, but I ascertained where she went to church, and I went there the very next Sunday. It was cloudy, and she did not appear. I was sad and impatient. It seemed to me that I must see her again soon, or I should do some desperate deed. I tried to invent an excuse for calling at her father’s house on Sunday evening, but my ingenuity failed me. I dropped in upon Tom Flynn, and talked of nothing but Lilian Oliphant. I hoped he would take the hint, and propose to call upon her that evening, but he would not; in fact, he was going to a prayer-meeting, and only invited me to go there with him. It was not Lilian’s church, and I did not wish to go. It would be pleasanter to walk on the Common and think of her, if I could not see her.

I did not sleep half an hour that night. I was madly, desperately in love with Lilian, and I was afraid that some young fellow with only a thousand a year might snap her up while I was waiting to go through all the forms of society in decent and conventional order. I was not to take my desk in the bank till the first day of the new year, a week hence, and I induced my employers to let me off from the last four days’ service, for the reason that I was so infatuated with Miss Lilian I could not do anything. I walked by Mr. Oliphant’s house twenty times a day, but I had not the pluck to call. On Tuesday afternoon I sent her a beautiful bouquet labelled “In memory of a pleasant evening. P. G.” When I had done so, I happened to think that one of my companions during the pleasant evening alluded to was Paul Grahame. It was an awful blunder on my part, for how could she know whether Paul Grahame or Paley Glasswood was the sender of the flowers, which had cost me five dollars! If Paul, who was more intimate in the family than I, should happen to call during the week, Lilian, under the consciousness that such a pretty bouquet could come only from a sincere admirer, might speak a gentle word or bestow a loving smile upon him, which would forever darken my hopes.

The situation looked desperate, and I must call on Wednesday, or drown myself in the icy waters off Long Wharf on Thursday. Water below a reasonable temperature was particularly repugnant to me, and I did not relish the alternative. I wondered if she would be glad to see me. I tried to determine whether her gracious demeanor towards me during that important evening had been dictated by mere politeness, or by a genuine interest in me. I was vain enough to flatter myself that I had made an impression uponher gushing heart. In my native town I had been accounted a good-looking fellow, as revealed to me through sundry “compliments.” I thought I was not bad looking, and I consulted my mirror on this momentous question. The result was satisfactory, and I was quite willing to believe that Miss Lilian ought to be pardoned for feeling an interest in me.

On Wednesday afternoon I walked by her father’s house seven times, and probably I should have passed it seven times more, if on the eighth I had not seen Lilian at the window. The stars favored me. The dear divinity saw me; she smiled, she bowed to me, and I thought she blushed. Whether she did or not, I blushed, and the die was cast. The thrilling glance the fair being bestowed upon me inspired me with a resolution equal to the occasion. I rushed to the door, and before I had time to change my purpose, I rang the bell.

I was admitted. I asked for Miss Lilian Oliphant, and was shown into the parlor in which she was seated. My heart throbbed like the beatings of the ocean in a tempest, and my face felt as if a blast of fire had swept over it; but I survived. I was more than fascinated; I was infatuated with the fair being before me. I am free to say that no such vision of loveliness was ever realized before or since in my experience.

“This is a very unexpected pleasure, Mr. Glasswood,” said she, more self-possessed than I was.

“I beg your pardon for calling,” I stammered.

“I’m sure you needn’t do that, for I’m very glad to see you, sir,” she replied, kindly helping me out.

“I didn’t—really—I thought—it’s a beautiful day, Miss Oliphant.”

“Splendid day!” laughed she; but I saw that she was beginning to be embarrassed.

I ventured to hint that I had spent a very pleasant evening at her house on the preceding Friday; and she was kind enough to say she had enjoyed it very much, and hoped I would call again soon with my friend, Tom Flynn, and have another game of whist.

“I played so badly then that I shall hardly dare to try again,” I replied. I was—really, I was—”

“What?” she asked, when I broke down completely.

“I was going to say that I usually play better, but something disturbed me that evening so that I was not myself;” and I fixed my loving gaze upon the threadbare carpet at my feet.

“Why, what was the matter with you?” laughed the vision of loveliness before me.

“I don’t know, but I didn’t seem to have the command of my faculties.”

“Then you must come again and redeem your reputation, if you feel that you did not do yourself justice.”

“Thank you! When shall I come?” I asked eagerly.

“As soon as you please.”

“If it were as soon as I pleased, it would be this very evening,” I added with a boldness which absolutely confounded me.

“Do come this evening then. We can make up a set without any other help.”

Why didn’t she say something about that bouquet, and thus enable me to advance a step nearer to the conquest. She did not, and I was afraid the five dollar trifle had been placed to the credit of Paul Grahame. I went away, but I hastened to the florist’s and bought another bouquet—price seven dollars. On the card I wrote, “In memory of a pleasant call. P. G******d.” She could not make Grahame out of that.

Early in the evening I rang the bell, and was ushered into the parlor. On the piano was my bouquet, and near it stood Lilian, who, as I entered the room, was in the act of inhaling its fragrance. I think she blushed a little when she saw me.

“What a beautiful bouquet!” she exclaimed with rapture, after the preliminary formalities had been disposed of. “I am very grateful to you Mr. Glasswood, for this kind remembrancer.”

“O, not at all; it was the best I could find, but it is altogether unworthy.”

“Why, it is positively lovely! It is beautiful, delicious. My friends are very kind. It was only the other day that Mr. Grahame sent me one, but it was not so pretty as this one.”

“Did he, indeed?” I asked.

“How stupid I am! Why it was you Mr. Glasswood. I interpreted the initials as those of his name.”

Miss Lilian looked upon the floor, and her chest heaved with emotion that agitated me more than her. I fancied it was all right—and it was. I played whist, and the old gentleman and one of the other daughters beat us worse than before. I trumped my partner’s tricks, and put my ace upon her king. But I consoled myself with the reflection that she must be thinking of something else, or she would not so often have played the king before the ace was out. We played a double game, of which whist was the less important; but we played into each other’s hands, and won the game in which hearts were trumps, if we lost on all other suits.

I ought to have gone home at ten o’clock, but I staid till half-past eleven. I was cordially invited to come again, and I may say I went again, until my visits included every evening in the week, not excepting Saturday and Sunday, when all but “fiddlers and fools” stay at home. Before the snows melted we were engaged.

On the first day of the new year I took my place in the bank. It looked to me then like a bed of roses; I have since found it to be a bed of thorns; though I ought to add that I made it so myself. I knew the routine of bank business tolerably well, though I had much to learn. I tried to discharge my duties faithfully, and though Mr. Bristlebach, the president, was a hard man, I won even his approval. I need not dwell on this season of happiness, for as I look back upon it, I appreciate it; I could not then.

My services were so satisfactory that when our paying teller was promoted to a higher place in another institution, I was advanced to his situation with a salary of eighteen hundred dollars, and a promise of an additional two hundred if I proved to be competent to discharge the duties of the office. My uncle and others were my bondsmen. Never did a young man look forward to a brighter future than I did.

Every evening in the week I went to Mr. Oliphant’s and was treated as one of the family. During the year I had been paying assiduous court to my beautiful charmer. I spent all my salary, and more than all, for I was in debt at the end of this time. I wore good clothes, for I wished Lilian to be proud of me; I sent her bouquets, I took her to the theatre, the opera, the concerts, and to balls and parties, a single one of which in some instances, spoiled a twenty dollar bill. I took her out to ride, and paid for many costly suppers. But Lilian appeared to love me with all her soul, and I was satisfied.

I had found the end of my twelve hundred dollars so easily that I dared not think of getting married; but my promotion decided me. Lilian offered no unreasonable objections, neither did her parents, and the happy day was fixed. Tom Flynn, who had taken my place as discount clerk in the Forty-ninth National, was to stand up with me. Somewhat oddly, as it seemed to me, my good friend advised me not to marry, and we almost quarrelled over some plain talking which he did. The die was cast; I would not have retreated if I could.

CHAPTER III.GOING TO HOUSEKEEPING.

I was married in the spring, and the bank gave me my vacation on the joyous occasion, so that I was enabled to make a bridal tour of ten days to the South. I went to Philadelphia, Baltimore and Washington, and while I distinctly recollect that I enjoyed myself exceedingly, and traveled like a prince, I can more vividly recall the rapidity with which my funds were expended. It had cost me all my salary to pay my board and to take Miss Lilian to the opera and the balls, but I could not afford to deprive Mrs. Glasswood of any luxury.

Before we started I was “hard up,” and I tried to contrive some clever expedient by which the bridal tour might be dispensed with. I suggested to Lilian that the journey was not absolutely necessary; that some very “nobby” people staid at home after they were married. Her chin dropped down as though a ten pound weight had been attached to it, and she looked so sad and gloomy that I could not think for a moment longer of depriving her of this triumphal march, for so I am afraid she regarded it. Of course I did not hint to her that I could not afford to spend two or three hundred dollars in travelling, for we were still lovingly cheating each other into the belief that she was a princess and I was a representative of Crœsus himself.