CHAPTER IV. 

Notwithstanding the earnest injunction that Maria had given to Mr. Delafield to continue where she left him, until her return, she expressed no surprise at not finding him in the room. The countenance of this young lady exhibited a droll mixture of playful mirth and sadness; she glanced her eyes once around the apartment, and perceiving it was occupied only by her friend, she said, laughing-- 

"Well, Charlotte, when is it to be? I think I retired in very good season." 

"Perhaps you did, Maria," returned the other, without raising her face from the reflecting attitude in which she stood--"I believe it is all very well." 

"Well! you little philosopher--I should think it was excellent--that--that is--if I were in your place. I suspected this from the moment you met." 

"What have you suspected, Maria?--what is it you imagine has occurred?" 

"What! why Seymour Delafield has been stammering--then he looked doleful--then he sighed--then he hemmed--then he said you were an angel--nay, you need not look prudish, and affect to deny it; he got as far as that before I left the room--then he turned to see if I were not coming back again to surprise him--then he fell on his knees--then he stretched out his handsome hand--it is too handsome for a man's hand!--and said take it, take me, take my name, and take my three hundred thousand dollars!--Now don't deny a syllable of it till I tell your answer." 

Charlotte smiled, and taking her work, quietly seated herself at her table before she replied-- 
How much money does Delafield claim to have?
my three hundred thousand dollars