WEALTH WITHOUT WINGS. . 20T

 

sorrow. A drunkard and a gambler, it did not take
Martin long to see once more the bottom of his
purse. Not until this occurred did he trouble the
lawyer again. ‘Then he startled him with a second
visit, and, after a few sharp words, came off with
another check, though for a less amount.

And for years, leech-like, Martin, sinking lower
and lower all the time, continued his adhesion to the
lawyer, abstracting continually, but in gradually
diminishing sums, the money needed for natural life
and sensual indulgence, until often his demands went
not above a dollar. Grind, reluctantly as he yielded
to these demands, believed it wiser to pay them than
to meet the exposure Martin had it in his power to
make. And so it went on, until, one day, to his in-
expressible relief, Grind read in the morning papers
an account of the sudden and violent death of his
enemy. His sleep was sounder on the night that
followed than it had been for @ long, long time.

Of Edward Claire, and his happy family—not
happy merely from an improved external condition,
for the foundation of their happiness was laid in a
deeper ground—we have not much to relate.

When Claire brought to Fanny the title-deeds of
the property which he had recovered from Jasper,
she pushed them back upon him, saying, as she
did so—

“Keep them, father—keep them. Allis yours.”

“No, my dear child,” replied Claire, seriously,
yet with tenderness and emotion, “all is not mine.
All is yours. This ‘property, through a wise Provi-
dence, has come into your possession. I have no
right to it.”