"Have you no ambition?" inquired the other, in a familiar way.

"Ambition!" The question awakened surprise.

"To stand out prominently in the world's eye, no matter for what, so
the distinction be honourable," said Mr. Lyon. "Of the thousands and
tens of thousands who toil up the steep and often rugged paths to
wealth, and attain the desired eminence, how few are ever heard of
beyond the small community in which they live! Some of these, to
perpetuate a name, establish at death some showy charity, and thus
build for themselves a monument not overshadowed by statelier
mausoleums amid the rivalries of a fashionable cemetery. Pah! All
this ranges far below my aspiring. I wish to make a name while
living. Wealth in itself is only a toy. No true man can find
pleasure in its mere glitter for a day. It is only the miser who
loves gold for its own sake, and sees nothing beautiful or desirable
except the yellow earth he hoards in his coffers. Have you found
happiness in the mere possession of wealth?"

"Not in its _mere_ possession," was answered.

"Nor even in its lavish expenditure?"

"I have great pleasure in using it for the attainment of my wishes,"
said Mr. Markland.

"The narrower the bound of our wishes, the quicker comes their
consummation, and then all is restlessness again, until we enter
upon a new pursuit."