Our young lawyer had not the most remote idea of settling permanently in this little town, where he would have to fritter away his energies and cramp his mind in such narrow litigation as must arise in rural courts, but he fully intended, after a while, to seek a field of broader dimensions, which would call forth all his legal lore, and cause him to put forth all the strength of which he was capable. His present location was only the stepping-stone to his loftier aspirations, and which, he thought, would detain him only till he could acquire sufficient means to justify his removal to some city where his talents could find room for development. It was not long before Ernest’s fond hopes and the justifiable expectations of his friends began to emerge from the shade of possibilities into the sunshine of realities. Legal business flowed in, and Ernest, at the very outset of his career, found himself entrusted with the management of as important cases as ever require judicial investigation in a provincial court. But Ernest could not thus go on forever, thinking of nothing but the immediate object of his ambition, and dreaming only of deeds and legal parchments and bags of gold. At an early day in his career a path of destiny began to open in the misty future, different from that which he had at first marked out for himself. In the town there lived a young lady whom he had known from childhood. For several years, however, she had occupied scarcely a single thought of his, attributable to the fact that both had been absent at school. Both returned home the same month to enter upon their respective careers, which seemed to be as far apart as zenith and nadir, since the charming, gilded path of ease, leisure and idleness lay before the one, and the path of work, diligence, and activity lay before the other. Clara Vanclure was the only child of a wealthy merchant. Her prospects were regarded as very brilliant, since the probability was, she would inherit all her father’s property, consisting of lands and plantations as well as stores, and estimated at not less than two millions of dollars. As might be expected, she was a “spoiled child,” yet, she was beautiful, and accomplished to the full extent of her capacities, which, strict truth compels us to say, were not, by any means, of the highest order. But the dazzling mantle of vast wealth hides a mighty multitude of faults. There is a confusing glamour about “great possessions,” which so fascinates and bewitches, that the judgment of men cannot be properly exercised. The sneering cynic, like growling Diogenes, may affect to despise wealth, but in his heart he respects the owner, who controls such a source of commercial power and social influence. We may have a contempt for the rich man’s character, but in spite of ourselves, we stand in awe of the Magician’s mysterious ring which he wears on his finger. It was wealth that gave an additional luster to Miss Vanclure’s accomplishments.