with a pleasant tap on her cheek, Mr. Tenant
turned and left the room.

Hiram followed without saying a word.

Emma sat by herself an hour--at least an hour. The servant came in to
light the gas, but she would not permit it. I won't attempt to describe
her thoughts.

At length she rose, and took her way to her mother's room. She told her
just what had passed. Mrs. Tenant was a superior woman. Her experience
taught her, despite her good opinion of Hiram, for he had spared no
pains to present himself favorably, that he might prove to be merely
mercenary. Yet, after all, she did not think it probable. She said all
she consistently could say to soothe her child, without absolutely
declaring that she believed her fears to be groundless. _That_ she
dared not utter. She finished by a very common and rational argument,
which, by the way, has very little comfort in it:

'I know, my darling, that you love him, but you cannot love a mean,
low-spirited creature; and if he prove to be such, let us be thankful
for your escape.'

She kissed and caressed her child--her only child. But her words were
poor consolation to Emma, whose heart was devoted to this man--very
meagre consolation. Mrs. Tenant knew it; but what could she say or do
more, just then? She could only watch and stand ready to protect her
daughter's happiness, when events should decide what course she was to
take.

* * * * *

Hiram spent the entire evening looking over accounts and papers with Mr.
Tenant. His manner was quiet but assiduous. Very useful he made himself.
Frequently in the course of the evening he drew from that gentleman
well-merited encomiums on his clear head and methodical ideas.

As he was about leaving--it was fully twelve o'clock, and Mr. Tenant had
just thanked him for the twentieth time--Hiram ventured to speak again
about his property.

'Dear sir, I feel impelled to speak once more to you. Do listen to me.
Do not beggar yourself, and then turn yourself out of doors. Permit me
to tell you that you can save this house very easily.'

'I know it, Hiram. I know it. Don't think I have forgotten Emma and you.
I have thought it all over. Recollect, I don't blame you. I know it is
Emma you are thinking about. But, my dear boy, I can't do it--it would
not be _honest_. I can't do it. Never mind, we shall be all the happier
for doing right--all the happier, all the happier. I will see you
to-morrow. Good night. God