That day, notwithstanding his promises of payment, passed away without hearing from my brother. I had never laid any stress upon the promise, but drew a bad omen from this failure. A few days elapsed without any material incident. The next occasion on which my brother was introduced into conversation with Mrs. Fielder took place one evening after my friend had returned from spending the day abroad. After a pause, in which there was more significance than usual,-- "Pray, have you seen Frank lately?" I made some vague answer. "He has been talked about this afternoon, very little, as usual, to his advantage." I trembled from head to foot. "I fear," continued she, "he is going to ruin, and will drag your father down the same precipice." "Dearest madam! what new circumstance?" "Nothing very new. It seems Mr. Frazer--his wife told the story--sold him, a twelvemonth ago, a curricle and pair of horses. Part of the money, after some delay, was paid. The rest was dunned for unavailingly a long time. At length curricle and horses scoured the roads under the management of Monsieur Petitgrave, brother to Frank's _housekeeper_, the handsome mustec. This gave Frazer uneasiness, and some importunity extorted from Frank a note, which, being due _last Tuesday_, was, at Frank's importunity, withdrawn from bank to prevent protest. Next day, however, it was paid." I ventured to ask if Mrs. Frazer had mentioned any sum. "Yes; a round sum,--_five hundred dollars_." Fortunately the dark prevented my mother from perceiving my confusion. It was Tuesday evening on which I had lent the money to Frank. He had given me reason to believe that his embarrassments arose from his cotton-weaving scheme, and that the sum demanded from me was to pay the wages of craving but worthy labourers. While in the first tumult of these reflections, some one brought a letter. It was from my brother. This was the tenor:-- "I fear, Jane, I have gained but little credit with you for punctuality. I ought to have fulfilled my promise, you will say. I will not excuse my breach of it by saying (though I might say so, perhaps, with truth) that you have no use for the money; that I have pressing use for it, and that a small delay, without being of any importance to you, will be particularly convenient to me. No; the true and all-sufficient reason why I did not return the money was--because I had it not. To convince you that I am really in need, I enclose you a check for another five hundred, which you'll much oblige me by signing. I can repay you both sums together by Saturday,--if you needs must have it so soon. The bearer waits." In any state of my thoughts, there was little likelihood of my complying with a request made in these terms. With my present feelings, it was difficult to forbear returning an angry and reproachful answer. I sent him back these lines:--