He thought, with a latent self-contempt and remorse, of certain moods in which he had sometimes indulged,--moods in which he had cynically presumed that he could buy everything in the world for money.

Kings, thrones, governments, might be had for money, he knew, for he had often purchased their good-will--but Love was a jewel he had never found in any market--unpurchasable as God! And while he yet inwardly mused on his position, Bunce bent over him, and taking his thin wrinkled hand, patted it gently.
"Good-bye for the present, David!" he said, kindly--"We are on the mend--we are certainly on the mend! We hope the ways of nature will be remedial--and that we shall pick up our strength before the winter fairly sets in--yes, we hope--we certainly may hope for that----" "Mr.Bunce," said Helmsley, with sudden energy--"God bless you!".