"All right, Mr. Stillinghast. 'Faith, sir, your niece requires no
golden chains to her chariot. She is the most beautiful creature I
ever beheld--accomplished, and elegant in form and manners. Give me
the pen!" he said, earnestly, as he spread out the parchment, and
prepared to sign his name thereto.
"Clouds are beautiful with the sunshine on them," said the old man,
with a sneer; "so is a mirage in the desert; so are the apples on the
shores of the Dead Sea. But she is yours. You'll find no trouble in
winning her, even at the sacrifice of her creed. She is of the earth
earthy, and will willingly escape from such a miserable home as this."
"Mr. Stillinghast, I do not wish to feel that this is quite a _barter_.
Your niece would grace a throne, and I am vain enough to think that I
have qualities which may win her regard."
"Bosh! fool! All mankind are fools! But leave me--goodnight. Make
your arrangements to move to my counting-house to-morrow."
"My fortune is made. The 'Cedars' will not pass into other hands,"
thought Walter Jerrold, as he left the house.
The next day May went to see old Mabel, who was quite sick; and while
she was gone, Mrs. Jerrold called with her son. The proud, worldly
woman, was enchanted with the elegance and beauty of Helen, and, ere
she left her, had engaged her in a round of engagements; soirees--the
opera, and dinner parties, rung like music in Helen's ears, who, half
wild with joy, could scarcely repress her emotions from breaking out in
some ill-bred expressions of delight.
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