bold rider and a crack shot; accomplishments
which, in all Anglo-Saxon communities,
ensure easy popularity to their
possessor. Then, too, he had been left, early
in life, a widower; and if, since then, he
had lived too hard, or lived too loose, this
was an extenuating circumstance. Moreover,
he had but one child, a pretty little
girl; and to her he had ever been a careful,
tender, and devoted father. That was
another extenuating circumstance. He was
doubtless no man's enemy but his own;
and the worst ever said of him was, that
"Philip S., sir, is a smart man, smart and
spry; but wants ballast."

Mr. Cartwright lost no time in answering
Mr. Ackland's letter. He answered it
with the warmest expressions of gratitude
for the consideration and forbearance which
he had hitherto received from the writer
in the matter of this large, and all too
long outstanding debt. He confessed that
only a month ago he had been greatly
embarrassed how to meet the obligations now
falling due; but he was all the more
rejoiced, for that reason, to be now enabled
to assure his correspondent, that in
consequence partly of the unusual excellence of
the present rice harvest, and partly owing
to other recent and unexpected receipts to
a considerable amount, the capital and
interest of the debt would be duly paid off
at the proper time. As, however, Mr.
Ackland, in his letter, had expressed the
intention of going to Charleston about that
time, he (Mr. Cartwright) begged to
remind him that he could not reach Charleston
without passing through Richmond on
his way thither. He trusted, therefore,
that Mr. A. would afford him that opportunity
of offering to his New England friend
a sample of the hospitality for which old
Virginia was justly celebrated. He was
naturally anxious to be the first southern
gentleman to entertain his distinguished
correspondent on Virginian soil. He,
therefore, trusted that his esteemed friend
would honour him by being his guest at
Glenoak for a few days; the more so, as
he was desirous not only of introducing
Mr. A. to some of the most distinguished
men of Virginia, but also of furnishing
him with letters to many influential friends
of his in South Carolina, whose acquaintance
Mr. A. would probably find useful in
the course of his business at Charleston.
If, therefore, Mr. A. could manage to be at
Richmond on the——proximo, he (Mr. C.)
would have the honour of meeting him
there, and conducting him to Glenoak,
where all would be in readiness for the
immediate and satisfactory settlement of
their accounts.

When Mr. Ackland received this letter,
he was sitting in his office at Boston, and
conversing with his cousin, Tom Ackland.
Tom Ackland was a rising young lawyer,
and the only living relative of our Mr.
John Ackland, of the firm of Ackland
Brothers. Ackland's other brother, who
was also Ackland senior, had died some
years ago, and Ackland junior had since
then been carrying on the business of the
firm, not very willingly, and not very
successfully.

"What do you think of that, Tom?"
said Mr. John Ackland, tossing over the
letter to his cousin.

"Well," said Tom, after reading it
through, hastily enough, " I think you
had better accept the invitation, for I
suspect it is about the only thing you will
ever get out of Philip Cartwright. As to
his paying up, I don't believe a word of
what he says on that score."

"I don't much believe in it neither,"
said Mr. John, " and I'm sadly afraid the
debt is a bad one. But I can't afford to
lose it: and 'twill be a great bore to have
to foreclose. Even then, too, I shan't
recover half of the capital. What do you
think, Tom?"

Mr. Ackland spoke with a weary tone of
voice and an undecided manner, like a man
who is tired of some load which he is either
too weak or too lazy to shake off.

"Well, you must pass through Richmond,
Jack, and Glenoak will be as pleasant
a halt as you can have. Drink as
much of Cartwright's wine, and smoke as
many of his cigars as you can; for I doubt
if you'll get back any of your money except
in that kind. However, you can afford to
lose it, so don't be so downhearted, man.
And as for this Charleston business——"

"Oh!" said John Ackland, impatiently,
"the best of the Charleston business is that
it is not Boston business. I am longing,
Tom, to be away from here, and the sooner
I can start the better. Have you heard (I
did yesterday at the Albion) that Mary,
I mean Mrs. Mordent, and her husband,
are expected back in Boston next month?"

"Ah, Jack, Jack!" exclaimed Tom, "you
will get over this sooner than you think,
man, and come back to us one of these
days with a bouncing, black-eyed Carolinian
beauty, and half-a-dozen little Ackland
brothers and sisters too."

"I have got over it, Tom. At my time