That this would be the result of an exposure of his affairs, Mr. Townsend felt well assured. It was just as he had acted in his days of prosperity. He never regarded the interests of any man, and never extended the slightest sympathy toward the unfortunate. His system had been, to get out of every one who owed him and became embarrassed, all he would yield by the severest pressure, and then throw his bloodless carcass out of sight--to the dogs, for all he cared. And little more consideration than he had given, did he expect. Judging all men by his own standard, he did not believe in the existence of a particle of unselfishness in business circles; and he, therefore, expected to receive no generous consideration in his misfortunes. That this selfish disregard of others was wrong, he could now see, because it affected himself. If no other good result came from his reverses, the clear conviction and acknowledgment of this was something, and worth all he had lost and suffered to acquire. A long and anxious debate on the question of what it was best for him to do, was at length terminated by his coming to the conclusion, that his best course was to conceal from every one the desperate condition of his affairs, and make a vigorous effort to sustain himself. In this, he believed, lay his only hope. To trust any man with the fact that his losses had seriously crippled him, would be, he felt well convinced, to ruin all. In a few days, two or three letters were received from eastern manufacturers, containing invoices and bills of lading of goods consigned to him on sale, upon which the usual advances they had been in the habit of receiving were asked. Immediate replies were made, that he was already so much in advance to various parties, that he could not extend such accommodations, but that he would endeavor to make immediate sales, and transmit the proceeds. Before the goods arrived, Mr. Townsend received advices that their destination had been changed, and that they were to go into another commission house, from which the desired advances could be had. “Well, let them go!” he said, in the effort to feel indifferent about the matter, at the same time that a feeling of discouragement oppressed him, and brought a cloud over his mind. By the next mail came notice of a valuable consignment upon which neither an advance nor guaranty was asked, and it came from new parties, who promised still heavier shipments of goods. “There is hope yet,” was the silent, thankful expression of Mr. Townsend’s heart, as he read this letter. “If I can only manage to meet, at maturity, the five or six thousand dollars for which I am liable under guaranty of sales, I may yet be able to hold up my head in business, though how I shall manage to support my family on the diminished proceeds, is beyond my power to tell.” One day, about a week after the occurrence of the interview between himself and daughter, Eunice drew her father aside, and said to him,