Her
father watched the progress of their acquaintance with a delight which
manifested itself, even in _his_ cold eyes, and Della received the
assiduous attentions of her white-haired admirer with a triumph for
which she was excusable; yet with no desire to win him closer than now.

The evening wore away, the splendid supper was over, and the guests, one
by one, took their departure. Many a youthful suitor made his adieus to
Della that night with a jealous pang, as Delville's apparent success
arose to his mind. When the rooms were cleared, Mr. Delancey called his
daughter to his side.

"I cannot let you retire, Della, without telling you how much you have
pleased and gratified a father's heart this night. I am more than ever
proud of you; you will well adorn the station in which Delville can
place you. Bless you, Della. Good night."

"Good night, papa."

Della moved gracefully away, and slowly mounted the broad staircase
leading to her chamber.

"No blessing of love--no blessing of affection," she murmured softly, as
she went on, step by step--"only a blessing through his pride--cold,
hollow, empty pride, with nothing noble, nothing lofty in it; having for
foundation only an eligible match for me, or my station, or my
appearance. What a life, what a life!"

Della expected to find Minny asleep, as the hour was late; but when she
entered her apartment, Minny was there, walking the floor with her
hands clasped thoughtfully before her.

"Undress me, Minn. I am weary--weary."

"Haven't you been happy, Miss?" asked the girl, as she knelt to unfasten
the slender slipper from the pretty foot.

"Yes--and no, Minn. If triumph could make me happy, I must have been, so
far as that is concerned; but in thinking of you I have been unhappy;
and I have thought of you all the evening."

"Of me, Miss, in the midst of all that gaiety!"

"Of you. Would you like to be free, Minny?"

"Free, Miss Della? to have my freedom, and leave you?"

"Yes, Minny, if you would like your freedom, you shall have it this very
night; papa will do anything I say with regard to it, and you may go,
dear Minn, whenever you choose. You shall have money to carry you where
you like. In the North you might do well; marry some rich abolitionist,
perhaps, and be very happy. I am in earnest, Minn; you have but to
speak."

"Miss Della, if I have offended you in any way, if I have hurt your
heart by any means, if I have spoken, acted, or looked anything