aking a grave
sacrifice of my happiness; but I suppose I must do it. Are you sure this
Chiffield is rich?"

"Now, you are my own dear daughter!" said Mr. Whedell, tossing his
double eyeglass up and catching it, as was his custom when exulting.
"Your question is a prudent one, and worthy of you. I am happy to inform
you that Chiffield is worth one hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

Clementina smiled faintly, though she tried to look like a martyr.

"I learn this from the tax rolls. When Chiffield first began to call
here, and showed a profound interest in my conversation, I knew that he
was after you, and I thought it best to look into his resources. The tax
rolls, which are the best possible evidence, show that he has ten lots
in Harlem, with a cottage tenement on each of them, and several acres
now rented to German gardeners in the Twelfth Ward. These are rated in a
lump at seventy-five thousand dollars, which is a low estimate. So much
for the real estate. Now the personal property of Upjack, Chiffield &
Co. is valued on the same tax rolls (which always understate it) at
three hundred thousand dollars. Suppose Chiffield to own a one-fourth
interest only, and there you have the item of seventy-five thousand
dollars more. Grand total, one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. A
nearer figure would probably be two hundred thousand dollars; but I will
not build castles in the air for you. Chiffield is only forty--which is,
in fact, young. He is healthy and energetic. The firm are making money.
He will yet be a millionnaire. Confess, now, that I have chosen
wisely for you."

Here another decisive pull at the door bell. Mr. Whedell answered it in
person. Returning, he merely said, giving his double eyeglass a fillip,
"The furniture man. Have fixed him for the 1st of May. So far, the plan
works well."

"But are you sure, pa," asked the discreet Clementina, "that Mr.
Chiffield will offer himself?"

"Positive; because he has always been so very attentive to me. When men
flatter, and study the hobbies of the father, they are after the
daughter in earnest. Mr. Chiffield's very figure--the cut of his jib, so
to speak--is that of a marrying man. Only you must give him some little
encouragement. Not keep him at a distance, as you have hitherto done."

"But he may not be anxious to marry before the 1st of May. Then what?"

"Poor thing! how little you understand mankind! He will marry you at
twenty-four hours' notice, if yo