uld his interest in the scene have deepened,
could some sibyl have foretold to him how closely the Fates had
interwoven the destinies of himself and that lovely little one!

When he entered the counting-room, he found his employer in close
conversation with Mr. Grossman, a wealthy cotton-broker. This man was
but little more than thirty years of age, but the predominance of animal
propensities was stamped upon his countenance with more distinctness
than is usual with sensualists of twice his age. The oil of a thousand
hams seemed oozing through his pimpled cheeks; his small gray eyes were
set in his head like the eyes of a pig; his mouth had the expression of
a satyr; and his nose seemed perpetually sniffing the savory prophecy
of food. When the clerk had delivered his message, he slapped him
familiarly on the shoulder, and said,--

"So you've been out to Duncan's, have you? Pretty nest there at Pine
Grove, and they say he's got a rare bird in it; but he keeps her so
close, that I could never catch sight of her. Perhaps you got a peep,
eh?"

"I saw a very beautiful child of Mr. Duncan's," replied Alfred, "but I
did not see his wife."

"That's very likely," rejoined Grossman; "because he never had any
wife."

"He said the little girl was his daughter, and I naturally inferred that
he had a wife," replied Alfred.

"That don't follow of course, my gosling," said the cotton-broker.
"You're green, young man! You're green! I swear, I'd give a good deal
to get sight of Duncan's wench. She must be devilish handsome, or he
wouldn't keep her so close."

Alfred Noble had always felt an instinctive antipathy to this man, who
was often letting fall some remark that jarred harshly with his romantic
ideas of women,--something that seemed to insult the memories of a
beloved mother and sister gone to the spirit-world. But he had never
liked him less than at this moment; for the sly wink of his eye, and
the expressive leer that accompanied his coarse words, were very
disagreeable things to be associated with that charming vision of the
circling doves and the innocent child.

SCENE II.

Time passed away, and with it the average share of changing events.
Alfred Noble became junior partner in the counting-house he had entered
as clerk, and not long afterward the elder partner died. Left thus
to rely upon his own energy and enterprise, the young man gradually
extended his business, and seemed in a fair way to realize his favor