It was pretty generally understood in S----that the Clinton Bank was in the hands or parties in New York, and that a large proportion of the discounts made were of paper bearing the endorsement of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., which was passed by the directors as the legitimate business paper received by that house in its extensive business operations; or of paper drawn to the order of John Floyd & Co., given in payment of goods manufactured at the mills in S----. It was also generally conceded that as, through their partner, Mr. Dewey, this firm of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., had invested a large amount of capital in S----, and by their liberality and enterprise greatly benefited the town, they were entitled to all the favors it was in the power of the bank to give; more particularly as the firm was one of great wealth--“solid as gold”--and the interests of the stockholders would, therefore, be best served by keeping the line of discount mainly in so safe a channel. Now and then a disappointed storekeeper, whose small offerings were thrown out, would inveigh bitterly against the directors, calling hard names, and prophesying “a grand explosion one of these days;” but these invectives and predictions hardly ever found a repetition beyond the narrow limits of his place of business. And so the splendid schemes of Ralph Dewey and Company went on prospering, while he grew daily in self-importance, and in offensive superciliousness toward men from whom he had nothing to expect. In my own case I had little to complain of, as my contact with him was generally professional, and under circumstances that caused a natural deference to my skill as a physician. Nothing out of the ordinary range of things transpired until towards Christmas, when my wife received a note from Mrs. Dewey, asking her as a special favor to call at the Allen House. She was there in half an hour after the note came to hand. I was at home when she returned, and saw the moment I looked into her face that she had been the witness of something that had moved her deeply. “Is anything wrong with Mrs. Dewey?” I asked. “Yes.” Her countenance took on a more serious aspect. “In what respect?” “The story cannot be told in a sentence. I received a note from her as you are aware. Its earnest brevity forewarned me that the call involved something of serious import; and I was not mistaken in this conclusion. On calling, and asking for Mrs. Dewey, I noticed an air of irresolution about the servant. 'Mrs. Dewey is not well,' she said, 'and I hardly think can see company to-day.' “'She is not ill, I hope?' said I. “'No, ma'am; not ill exactly, but--' and she hesitated and looked embarrassed. “'She will see me,' I spoke confidently. 'Take her my name, and I will wait here in the parlor.'