“True.  And I suppose it is this very selfishness that makes us so warmly admire a man like Mr. Peyton, who is willing to gratify us at his own charge.  It’s a pleasant thing to ride out and see the country, but we are apt to think twice about the costs before we act once.  But if some friend will only stand the expense, how generous and whole-souled we think him!  It is the same in every thing else.  We like the enjoyments, but can’t afford the expense; and he is a generous, fine-hearted fellow, who will squander his money in order to gratify us.  Isn’t that it, my friend?” said I, slapping him on the shoulder.

He looked half convinced, and a little sheepish, to use an expressive Saxonism.

On the evening succeeding this day, Peyton sat alone in his room, his head leaning upon his hand, and his brow contracted.  There was a tap at his door.  “Come in.”  A poorly-clad, middle-aged woman entered.  It was his washerwoman.

The lines on the young man’s brow became deeper.

“Can’t you let me have some money, Mr. Peyton?  My landlord is pressing hard for his rent, and I cannot pay him until you pay me.”

“Really, Mrs. Lee, it is impossible just now; I am entirely out of money.  But my salary will be due in three weeks, and then I will pay you up the whole.  You must make your landlord wait until that time.  I am very sorry to put you to this trouble.  But it will never happen again.”

The young man really did feel sorry, and expressed it in his face as well as in the tone of his voice.

“Can’t you let me have one or two dollars, Mr. Peyton?  I am entirely out of money.”

“It is impossible—­I haven’t a shilling left.  But try and wait three weeks, and then it will all come to you in a lump, and do you a great deal more good than if you had it a dollar at a time.”

Mrs. Lee retired slowly, and with a disappointed air.  The young man sighed heavily as she closed the door after her.  He had been too generous, and now he could not be just.  The buggy in which he had driven out with his friend on that day had cost him his last two dollars—­a sum which would have lightened the heart of his poor washerwoman.

“The fact is, my salary is too small,” said he, rising and walking about his room uneasily.  “It is not enough to support me.  If the account were fully made up, tailor’s bill, bootmaker’s bill, and all, I dare say I should find myself at least three hundred dollars in debt.”

Merwin received the same salary that he did, and was just three hundred dollars ahead.  He dressed as well, owed no man a dollar, and was far happier.  It is true, he was not called a “fine, generous fellow,” by persons who took good care of their own money, while they were very willing to enjoy the good things of life at a friend’s expense.  But he did not mind this.  The want of such a reputation did not disturb his mind very seriously.

After Mrs. Lee had been gone half an hour, Peyton’s door was flung suddenly open.  A young man, bounding in, with extended hand came bustling up to him.