The possible surrender of all that had made life pleasant to his family was not to be considered without emotion, and Mr. Lindsay found himself unable to finish the sentence.

“Dear father!” exclaimed Clara, seizing and kissing his hand, as she sat down at his feet,—­“you are just and noble.  We could not be selfish or complaining when we think of you.  Let everything go.  I love the dear old house, the garden that has been your pride, the books and pictures; but we shall be nearer together—­shan’t we, papa?—­in a cottage.  If they do sell my piano, I can still sing to you; nobody can take that pleasure from us.”

“Bless you, my daughter!  I feel relieved,—­almost happy.  Your cheerful heart has given me new courage.  Perhaps we shall not have to make the sacrifices I dread.  Whatever happens, my darling, your piano shall be kept.  I will sell my watch first.  Your music will be twice as dear in our days of adversity.”

“Yes, papa,—­if we keep the piano, I can give lessons.”

“You give lessons?  Nonsense!  But get up, pussy; here, sit on my knee.”

He fondled her like a child, and they all smiled through their tears,—­heavenly smiles! blissful tears! full of a feeling of which the heart in prosperous days has no conception!

“One thing has happened to-day,” said Mr. Lindsay, “that I shall never forget,—­an action so generous and self-forgetful that it makes one think better of mankind.  I remember hearing a preacher say that no family knew all their capabilities of love until death had taken one of their number,—­not their love for the dead, but their deeper affection for each other after the loss.  I suppose every calamity brings its compensations in developing noble traits of character; and it is almost an offset to failure itself to have such an overflowing feeling as this,—­to know that there are so many sympathizing hearts.  But what I was going to speak of was the conduct of my clerk, Monroe.  He is a fine fellow,—­rather more given to pictures and books and music than is good for a business man; but with a clear head, a man’s energy, and a woman’s heart.  He has a widowed mother, whom he supports.  I never knew he had any property till to-day.  It seems his father left ten thousand dollars.  He knew that my situation was desperate, and yet he offered me his all.  It would only have put off the day of failure; but I was selfish enough to be willing to take it.  He had deposited the securities for the amount with Sandford, who first borrowed money in the street by pledging them, and then failed to-day.  Monroe has lost his all; but his intention was as noble as if he had saved me.  I shall never forget it; and as long as I have a dollar he shall share it.”

“What a noble fellow!” said Mrs. Lindsay.  “How pleasant to think that in this terrible scramble for life there are some who have not lost their humanity, nor trampled down their finer feelings!”