On the morning of the day which brought the downfall of Stearine and his indorsers, Sandford and Fayerweather, with the Vortex, whose funds they had misappropriated, Monroe came to the counting-room unusually cheerful. His anxiety respecting his little property was relieved, for he thought the monetary crisis was past, and that thenceforth affairs would improve. He had reasoned with himself that such a pressure could not last always, and that this had certainly reached its limit. The clear, bracing air of the morning had its full influence over his sensitive nature. All Nature seemed to rejoice, and he, for the time, forgot the universal distress, and sympathized with it. But the thermometer fell rapidly as he caught the expression which the face of his employer wore. Mr. Lindsay, of the house of Lindsay & Co., was usually a reserved, silent man--in business almost a machine, honest both from instinct and habit, and proud, in his quiet way, of his position and his stainless name. He had a wife and daughter, and therefore was presumed to have affections; but those whom he met in the market never thought of him, save as the systematic merchant. Well as Monroe knew him, being his confidential clerk, he never had seen more than the case in which the buying, selling, and note-paying machinery was inclosed. He respected the evident integrity and worth of the head of the house, but never dreamed of a different feeling; he could as easily have persuaded himself into cherishing an affection for the counting-house clock. This morning, Mr. Lindsay's face wore an unusually sleepless, anxious look. The man of routine was but a man, after all, and, in his distress, he longed for some intelligent, friendly sympathy. Monroe recognized the mute appeal, but, from long habits of reticence, he was at a loss how to approach his stately chief. Determined, however, to give him an opportunity to speak, if he chose, Monroe asked after the news, the day's failures, and the prospects of business. The merchant needed only a word, and broke out at once,-- "Prospect? there is no prospect but ruin. If a whirlwind would bury the city, or a conflagration leave it a heap of ashes, it would be better for all of us." "But don't you think the darkest time has past?" "Not at all; the pressure will continue until scores more are brought down. Better fail at once than live in dread of it." "You surprise me! Why, you are not in danger?" "Did you ever consider? Look at the bales of goods in our lofts,--goods which nobody will buy and nobody can pay for. And our acceptances have been given to the manufacturers for them,--acceptances that are maturing daily. Up to this time I have taken up all our paper, as it became due; but God knows how the next payments are to be made." "I had not thought of that." "The house of Lindsay & Co. has never known dishonor"--