than ever troubled with that old pain in my breast. I sometimes think, Susan, a sight of your sunny face would cure me; that and all good things I trust will come; in the meantime, patience. In prosperity and adversity, my heart ever turns towards my dear Essex friends, who must believe me their friend and brother, "Harry Aikin."
"I never did fully believe it!" exclaimed Susan, as she closed the letter.
"Believe what?"
Susan blushed. "You know what, Lottie." Charlotte smiled. "Are you not sorry for Harry's failure?" she asked.
"Oh, yes—sorry? No—no, I am not sorry for any thing just at this moment," and Susan covered her face, and wept for joy. Then, dashing off her tears, she read the letter over again. "After all," she said, "for any thing he writes here, he may be going to marry Paulina; but I know he is not." Susan's happy faith was well founded. Harry's letter gave no details, for he never wrote his own praises, even indirectly. "Not he that commendeth himself is approved."
When, at the close of their second year's partnership, he ascertained the unfavourable condition of their affairs, he insisted on making them known at once to their creditors, that they might suffer the least possible inconvenience from the failure of punctual payment. Morris Finley remonstrated. He saw, or affected to see, flattering prospects ahead; and at last, when Harry absolutely refused to go on, Morris insisted on making a compromise
