"Meantime, you can request Mr. Ensign to wait another day for his
answer," said Miss Belinda.

But Paula with a look of astonishment shook her head. "Is it you who
would counsel me to such a piece of coquetry as that?" said she. "No,
dear aunt, my heart is not with Mr. Ensign, as you know, and it is
impossible for me to encourage him. If Mr. Sylvester should prove
unworthy of my affection, I must bear, as best I may, the loss which
must accrue; but till he does, let me not dishonor my womanhood by
allowing hope to enter, even for a passing moment, the breast of his
rival."

Miss Belinda blushed, and drew her niece fondly towards her. "You are
right," said she, "and my great desire for your happiness has led me
into error. Honesty is the noblest adjunct of all true love, and must
never be sacrificed to considerations of selfish expediency. The refusal
which you contemplate bestowing upon Mr. Ensign, must be forwarded to
him at once."

And with a final embrace, in which Miss Belinda allowed herself to let
fall some few natural tears of disappointment, she dismissed the young
girl to her task.

XXXIV.

PAULA MAKES HER CHOICE.

"Good fortune then,
To make me bless't or cursed'st among men."

--MERCHANT OF VENICE.

It was evening in the Sylvester mansion. Mr. Sylvester who, according to
his understanding with Paula, had been absent from his home all day, had
just come in and now stood in his library waiting for the coming
footfall that should decide whether the future held for him any promise
of joy.

He had never looked more worthy of a woman's regard than he did that
night. A matter that had been troubling him for some time had just been
satisfactorily disposed of, and not a shadow, so far as he knew, lay
upon his business outlook. This naturally brightened his cheek and lent
a light to his eye. Then, hope is no mean beautifier, and this he
possessed notwithstanding the disparity of years between himself and
Paula. It was not, however, of sufficiently assured a nature to prevent
him from starting at every sound from above, and flushing with quite a
disagreeable sense of betrayal when the door opened and Bertram entered
the room, instead of the gentle and exquisite being he had expected.

"Uncle, I am so full of happiness, I had to stop and bestow a portion of
it upon you. Do you think any one could mistake the nature of Miss
Stuyvesant's feelings, who saw her last night?"