"No, not that," said he. "But you know there is so much selfishness in
the world; we hardly ever meet a man who is willing to make the
slightest sacrifice for the good of others."

"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 cost 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 everything else. We like
the enjoyment, 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?"

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 quite 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