Mr. Whedell regretted that his daughter should expatiate with such
vivacity upon a subject that must be extremely disagreeable to a
gentleman of Mr. Chiffield's large figure and steady habits. To the
cultivated judgment of Maltboy, it was evident that the young lady was
trying to amuse Chiffield merely for the purpose of annoying him
(Maltboy). Experience had taught Matthew the best kind of cure for this
species of female perversity. He determined to leave the house, and
thereby show that he was not to be trifled with.

Availing himself of a pause in the dissertations on national politics,
Maltboy pulled out his watch and consulted it. "Why!" said he; "nine
o'clock! And I was to be in Fourteenth street by half past eight. Only
intended to drop in just to see how you were. You really must excuse me,
Mr. Whedell." Matthew rose as he spoke, to show that his mind was made
up, and remonstrances would be useless.

"Don't go. Put off your other call," ejaculated Mr. "Whedell, at the
same time rising, and thereby indicating a perfect acquiescence in the
departure of his guest.

"You are in a hurry," said Miss Whedell, calmly, but without objection
in voice or eye.

Mr. Chiffield looked calmly at his rival; and none but a skilled student
of physiognomy could have discovered a gleam of triumph in his dull,
yellow face.

Maltboy was disappointed in the calm demeanor of Miss Whedell; but,
strong in his purpose, he walked toward the door, followed by the
father. As he passed into the entry, he bowed coldly to the lady of his
heart, and drew from her a scarcely perceptible nod.

At this moment, a valuable thought occurred to the paternal Whedell.

"My dear Maltboy," said he, closing the parlor door, "excuse the
abruptness of the question; but could you lend me a couple of hundred?"

The question was indeed abrupt, but not altogether unexpected. Mr. Quigg
had apprised Maltboy of Mr. Whedell's financial weakness; but the
infatuation of the ardent young bachelor had led him to disregard that
warning. He was fully prepared to say, "Yes, with pleasure," and he
did say so.

"Thank you," said the gratified parent. "Only want it a few days." Mr.
Whedell was too great an adept in the art of borrowing, to waste words
of tedious explanation and gratitude, which only produce an impression
that the borrower does not mean to pay. He accepted Maltboy's reply as a
matter of course.

"If not too much trouble, could you give me a check