Harriet Meadows and Jane Larkin were particular friends, and soon became confidants.  They were both quite young, and, we need not say, weak and thoughtless.  Sanford and Hatfield, as the reader has seen, were also intimate.  In a short time after the latter had made up their minds to secure the hands of these two young ladies, if possible, there was a mutual confession of the fact.  This was followed by the putting of their heads together for the contrivance of such plans as would best lead to the effectuation of the end each had proposed to himself.  It is a curious fact, that on the very Sunday afternoon on which we have seen Mr. and Mrs. Larkin conversing about the danger and impropriety of Harriet Meadows keeping company with a man like Sanford, their own daughter was actually riding out with Hatfield.  In this ride they passed the residence of Mr. Meadows, who, in turn, commented upon the fact with some severity of censure towards Mr. Larkin and his wife for not looking more carefully after their only child.

“They certainly cannot know it,” finally remarked Mr. Meadows.

“No, I should think not.  It would be a real charity for some one just to mention it to them.”

“It certainly would.”

“Suppose you speak to Mr. Larkin about it,” said Mrs. Meadows.

“Me?  Oh no!” was the reply.  “It is none of my business.  I never meddle with family affairs.  It is their duty to look after their daughter.  If they don’t, and she rides about with Tom, Dick and Harry on Sundays, they have no one to blame but themselves for the consequences.”

Thus their responsibility in the affair was dismissed.  It was no business of theirs.

In the mean time the two clerks were laying their plans for carrying off the young ladies, and marrying them secretly.

“Have you sounded Jane on this subject?” asked Sanford of his friend one evening, when the matter had come up for serious discussion.

“I have.”

“How does she stand?”

“I think there is no doubt of her.  But how is Harriet?”

“All right.  That point we settled last night.  She is ready to go at any time that Jane is willing to take a similar step.  She would rather not go all alone.”

“If she will only second me in urging the absolute necessity of the thing upon Jane, there can be no doubt of the result.  And she will do that of course.”

“Oh yes—­all her influence can be calculated upon.  But how do you think Larkin will stand affected after all is over?”

“It’s hard to tell.  At first he will be as mad as a March hare.  But Jane is his only child, and he loves her too well to cast her off.  All will settle down quietly after a few weeks’ ebullition and I shall be as cosily fixed in the family as I could wish.  After that, my fortune is made.  Larkin is worth, to my certain knowledge, fifty or sixty thousand dollars, every cent of which will in the end come into my hands.  And, besides, Larkin’s son-in-law will have to be set up in business.  Give me a fair chance, and I’ll turn a bright penny for myself.”