the society of Emma
Tenant.

Yet your conscience does not reproach you. No, not one bit. Positively
you are not aware of anything reprehensible or even indelicate in what
you are about. Thinking of the matter, as you carefully scan the books
of record, you regard it precisely as you would any other investigation.
To you it is essential that the girl you are to marry should have money.
If she has, you will love her (for it is your _duty_ to love your wife);
if she has not, you cannot love her, and of course (duty again) you
cannot wed her.

Poor Emma Tenant! No protecting instinct warns you against the young man
who is now making such fervid protestations. You receive all he says as
holy truth, sincere, earnest avowal, out of his heart into yours, for
time and for eternity!

You, Emma Tenant, are a good girl, innocent and good: why, oh, why does
not your nature shrink by this contact?

* * * * *

We forbear to paint the love scene in which Hiram figures. Enough to say
that Emma could not and did not disguise the state of her affections.
Yes, she confessed it, confessed she had been attracted by Hiram (poor
thing) from the day she first saw him enter the Sunday school to take
his place as one of its teachers.

How happy she was as she sat trembling with emotion, her hand in Hiram's
calculating grasp, while she blushingly made her simple confession.

'But your father,' interposed Hiram, anxiously--'he will never give his
consent.'

'And why will he not?' replied Emma. 'I am sure he likes you already,
and when he knows'--

She stopped, and blushed deeper than ever.

'When he knows,' said Hiram, taking up the sentence, 'he will hate me: I
am sure he will.'

'How can you say so?' replied the confiding girl. 'I am his only child,
and he will approve of anything which is for my happiness.'

'But he may not think an engagement with me (you see Hiram was
determined on the engagement) will be for your happiness. I am not known
here--am not yet in business for myself, although so far as that is
concerned'--

'Don't speak so--it pains me; as if I could think of such things _now_,'
she whispered, as if really in bodily distress.

'But it _must_ be mentioned, and at once; we must tell your parents. It
would be highly improper not to do so.'

He meant to make all sure.

'Oh, well, I suppose you are right, but it will make no difference to
papa if you had not a penny. I have heard hi