plantation, and I believe the most loyal, devoted creature breathing."
"Clayton," said his companion, "this affair might not be much to one who takes the world as I do, but for you it may be a little too serious. Don't get in beyond your depth."
"You are too late, Russel, for that—I am in."
"Well, then, good luck to you, my dear fellow! And now, as we are about it, I may as well tell you that I'm in for it, too. I suppose you have heard of Miss Benoir, of Baltimore. Well, she is my fate."
"And are you really engaged?"
"All signed and sealed, and to be delivered next Christmas."
"Let's hear about her."
"Well, she is of a good height (I always said I shouldn't marry a short woman),—not handsome, but reasonably well-looking—very fine manners—knows the world—plays and sings handsomely—has a snug little fortune. Now, you know I never held to marrying for money and nothing else; but, then, as I'm situated, I could not have fallen in love without that requisite. Some people call this heartless. I don't think it is. If I had met Mary Benoir, and had known that she hadn't anything, why, I should have known that it wouldn't do for me at all to cultivate any particular intimacy; but, knowing she had fortune, I looked a little further, and found she had other things, too. Now, if that's marrying for money, so be it. Yours, Clayton, is a genuine case of falling in love. But, as for me, I walked in with my eyes wide open."
"And what are you going to do with yourself in the world, Russel?"
"I must get into practice, and get some foothold there, you know; and then, hey for Washington!—I'm to be president, like every other adventurer in these United States. Why not I, as well as another man?"
"I don't know, certainly," said Clayton, "if you want it, and are willing to work hard enough and long enough,
