On the morning of the day on which the events of the preceding chapter took place, Mr. Townsend received by mail a letter notifying him that a note of twelve hundred dollars, drawn by the firm that had failed, in his favor, and by him endorsed, would be due at a certain bank on the next day, and desiring him to see that it was duly honored. All this was known to Mr. Townsend, but the formal notification thereof by the holders of the maturing paper, made him feel worse even than he already felt in the prospect of its being dishonored, both by the drawers and himself. He had about two hundred dollars, and that was all he had. He was in no position to borrow. The case, therefore, looked desperate. A few recent business transactions with the now quite important house of Jones, Claire, & Co. had brought him into contact with Albertson, whom he very well remembered, and also the harsh rebuff he had given him. Albertson was not only polite, but really kind, and had in two or three instances, thrown business in his way, for which he could not but feel grateful, although a recollection of the past stung him at times, and made him feel exceedingly uncomfortable. The thought of applying to Albertson for temporary aid, in this important crisis of his affairs, once or twice crossed his mind. But, “No, no; not from him of all others!” he would reply, shaking his head. To attend to business was impossible. During most of the morning, he sat moodily at his desk, or walked uneasily about his store, searching in his mind for some measure of relief, without meeting with a single suggestion. In the afternoon, in the anxious desire he felt to see the note falling due on the next day paid, he partly made up his mind to make use of an advance on goods then landing from a vessel on the wharf, which he was to receive in the morning, in paying the note, instead of remitting it to his consignors. But how was the amount to be made up afterward? What right had he to use the money of others, without their consent, especially when the prospect of replacing it immediately was very doubtful? These questions threw his mind off of that dependence. “It’s no use,” he at length said, as the day began to decline, “for me to think about it. The note cannot be paid, and I must take the consequences. I shall lose a number of good consignors in consequence, and my business will suffer severely, perhaps be broken up. I shall be sued at once, and, as I have no defence, judgment will be obtained in a few weeks, and then will follow an execution, and I shall be swept out to the last copper. Well, let it come! Perhaps I can stand that, also. Humph! Providence! It’s a strange kind of Providence!” The thought of Providence was connected in his mind with the thought of Eunice. Her pure young face rose before him, and her mild eyes, full of religious trust, were looking into his.