"P.S.--For God's sake burn, or otherwise destroy, this letter, as soon as you shall have read it."
Such was the letter which got into Mr. Aubrey's hands just as the time which had been fixed by Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, for payment of their bill, was expiring, and which occasioned him, as may be easily imagined, dreadful disquietude. It had found him in a state of the deepest depression--but yet vigorously striving to preserve, in the presence of his wife and sister, a semblance of composure and cheerfulness. More to pacify them than to satisfy himself, he had walked about town during the two preceding days till nearly dropping with exhaustion, in fruitless quest of those who might be disposed to advance him a thousand pounds on his own personal security, and on terms he scarce cared how exorbitant, to free him, at all events for a while, from his present exigency. All had been, however, in vain--indeed he had had no hopes from the first. And what was then to be done? His soul seemed dying away within him. At times he almost lost all consciousness of his situation, and of what was passing around him. It appeared to be the will of Heaven that his misfortunes should press him down, as it were, by inches into the dust, and crush him. Those there were, he well knew, who needed but to be apprised of his circumstances, to step forward and generously relieve him from his difficulties. But where was all that to end? What real good could it serve? Awfully involved as he was already--one, alone, of his friends being at that moment under a liability which must be discharged within a few months, of nearly _eleven thousand pounds_--was he to place others in a similar situation? What earthly prospect had he of ever repaying them? Lamentable as was his position, his soul recoiled from the bare thought. But then came before his anguished eye, his wife--his sister--his children; and he flung himself, in an ecstasy, on his knees, remaining long prostrate--and, for a while, _the heaven that was over his head seemed to be brass, and the earth that was under him, iron_. His heart might be wrung, however, and his spirit heavy and darkened; but no extent or depth of misery could cause him to forget those principles of honor and integrity by which all his life had been regulated. He resolved, therefore, to submit to the stroke apparently impending over him, with calmness, as to inevitable ruin; nor would he hear of any further applications to his friends, which, indeed, he felt would be only encouragement to those who held him in thraldom, to renew their exactions, when they found each succeeding pressure successful. Poor Kate had told him, as soon as her letter had been put into the post, with trembling apprehension as to the consequences, of her application to Lady Stratton; but did she think her fond broken-hearted brother could chide her? He looked at her for a moment, with quivering lip and eyes blinded with tears--and then wrung her hand, simply expressing a hope, that, since the step _had_ been taken, it might be, in some measure at least, successful.