But the shy little fairy ran all the faster, and Alfred saw nothing but
the long red ribbons of her gypsy hat, as they floated behind her on the
wind.

Declining a polite invitation to dine, he walked back to the city. The
impression on his mind had been so vivid, that, as he walked, there rose
ever before him a vision of that graceful arch with waving vines, the
undulating flight of the silver-breasted doves, and the airy motions of
that beautiful child. How would his interest in the scene have deepened,
could some sibyl have foretold to him how closely the Fates had
interwoven the destinies of himself and that lovely little one!

When he entered the counting-room, he found his employer in close
conversation with Mr. Grossman, a wealthy cotton-broker. This man was
but little more than thirty years of age, but the predominance of animal
propensities was stamped upon his countenance with more distinctness
than is usual with sensualists of twice his age. The oil of a thousand
hams seemed oozing through his pimpled cheeks; his small gray eyes were
set in his head like the eyes of a pig; his mouth had the expression of
a satyr; and his nose seemed perpetually sniffing the savory prophecy
of food. When the clerk had delivered his message, he slapped him
familiarly on the shoulder, and said,--

"So you've been out to Duncan's, have you? Pretty nest there at Pine
Grove, and they say he's got a rare bird in it; but he keeps her so
close, that I could never catch sight of her. Perhaps you got a peep,
eh?"

"I saw a very beautiful child of Mr. Duncan's," replied Alfred, "but I