"Nay, sir. I know too well your object in this request, and cannot
accede to it," replied the lady, in a firm and dignified manner, while
a rich crimson shade suffused her beautiful countenance.

"Be not so unkind,--a moment is all I ask," said Maxwell, with pleading
earnestness.

"No, sir; not a moment. Your unopened letter, which I yesterday
returned, should be enough to convince you that my mind is not changed,"
replied she, moving to the door.

The lawyer was vexed. The letter alluded to by the lady he had received,
and it had troubled him exceedingly. He had a great purpose in view,--a
purpose which, accomplished, would enable him to realize the cherished
object of his life,--would enable him to revel in the ease and affluence
he so much coveted. Something must be done. Here was an opportunity
afforded by the providential visit of Miss Dumont which might never
occur again, and he resolved to improve it. Determined to detain her, he
adopted the first expedient which presented itself.

"Pardon me," said he, "I have not received the letter, and was not aware
that you intended to return it."

"Indeed!" replied the lady, with evident astonishment, as she
relinquished her hold of the door-handle, and returned to the table by
the side of which the attorney stood.

"I regret that I did not, as it would have saved you from further
annoyance, and me from a few of the hours of anguish with which I have
awaited your reply," returned the lawyer, in accents of humility, which