It was a dark night.  The moon was obscured by thick clouds, and no twinkling star shone to guide her on her errand of mercy.  As she drew near the lonely dwelling of Paul Smith, she perceived no light.  She feared that he might be absent.  Stealthily along she crept, and, listening at the door, heard the voice of prayer, imploring aid and support during the trials of life, that relief might soon be sent.  Amelia silently opened the door, and placed the money on a table, accompanied with a note to Smith, requesting him not to disclose the manner in which he received it, and, as silently withdrawing, wended her way home.  As she entered the parlor, she found her father and brother engaged in earnest conversation,—­so earnest that she was not at first noticed.

“Confound my tenants!” said Mr. Greenville.  “There’s old Paul Smith; if to-morrow’s sun does not witness him bringing my just dues, he shall leave,—­yes, George, he shall leave!  I am no more to be trifled with and perplexed by his trivial excuses.  All my tenants who do not pay shall toe the same mark.  I’ll make them walk up, fodder or no fodder!  Ha, ha, ha! old Smith shall know that I have some principle left, if I have passed my sixtieth year-that he shall!  Slipnoose, the lawyer, shall have one job.”

“You are always visiting your friends, George.  It seems as though all are your friends.  Yet I don’t blame you, for friends are very happy appendages to one’s character.  I pity the man who lives a friendless life.  That’s the reason I have been such a friend to Smith,—­but no longer!” As he said this the wealthy landlord left the room.

Amelia related to her brother an account of her adventure, and both were thankful that they been instrumental in relieving the wants of their poor neighbors.  The next morning, seated at the table, Mr. Greenville began again to express his opinion respecting poor people in general, and Paul Smith in particular, when a loud rap at the door somewhat startled him.  In a few moments a servant entered, and gave information that a person was at the door who wished to see Mr. Greenville.  Arriving there, the landlord encountered his tenant, Smith, who immediately told him that by some kind providence he was enabled to pay him his due, and hoped that in future he should be prompt in his payments.

The landlord took the money, and, looking it over, handed him a receipt for the same, and returned to the breakfast-table.  Nothing was said about Smith until Mr. Greenville, as he left the room, remarked “that he did not know but that Smith meant well enough.”

Nearly a month had elapsed and nothing had been heard of Ray Bland, when, on a certain morning, Mr. Greenville came in and handed George a letter.  Upon opening it, George found it to be written by his friend Ray, informing him of his safe arrival home, thanking him for the kind attention he received during his visit, and expressing great pleasure in soon having another opportunity to visit him.  George communicated this intelligence to Amelia, and they determined upon using their united efforts in endeavoring to bring over the kind feelings of their father to their young, but poor, friend.