ith you, Elise."

Without answering, she rolled an arm-chair to the window, and laid
aside her hat and shawl.

"It is very seldom, father, that you make me such a present," said
she.

"What present, my child?"

"A quarter of an hour of your life, father."

"You are right," said he, thoughtfully. "I have little time for
pleasure, but I think so much the more of you."

She shook her head gently.

"No," said she, "you have no time to think of me. You are too busy.
Hundreds of men claim your attention. How could you have time, father,
to think of your daughter?"

Gotzkowsky drew a dark-red case from his breast pocket and handed it
to her.

"Look, Elise! see if I have not thought of you. To-day is your
birthday, and I have celebrated it as I have done every year by giving
my workmen a festival, and endowing a poor bridal pair who on this
day become betrothed. Their prayers and tears constitute the most
beautiful thank-offering to you, and being happy they bless you, the
authoress of their happiness. But how is this? You have not yet opened
the case. Are you so little like other girls that diamonds cause you
no pleasure?"

She opened the case, and contemplated the jewels with weary looks and
scarcely concealed indifference.

"How wonderfully they shine and sparkle, and what tempting promises
their brilliant colors hold forth! But this is a princely present,
father; your poor Elise it not worthy to wear this diadem and collar."

"Oh, you are worthy to wear a crown!" cried her father with tender
pride. "And let me tell you, my child, you have only to choose whether
you will place on this beautiful hair an earl's coronet or a prince's
diadem. And this, my child, is the reason of my visit to-day."

"On business," murmured she, almost inaudibly, with a bitter smile.

Gotzkowsky continued--

"Young Count Saldem applied to me yesterday for your hand."

"Count Saldem?" asked Elise. "I hardly know him. I have only spoken to
him twice in the saloon of Countess Herzberg."

"That does not prevent him from loving you ardently," said Gotzkowsky,
with scarcely perceptible irony. "Yes, Elise, he loves you so ardently
that he would overcome all obstacles of rank and make you a genuine
countess, if I will only promise to endow you with half a million."

The habitually pale countenance of Elise suddenly assumed life and
color. She drew herself up and threw her head proudly back.

"Do you wish to sell me, father? Do you