The meal began in greatest harmony, Miss Dinah was very affable, Vic really was the best-natured creature in the world, and just now she was perfectly happy from seeing her beloved young mistress better; Dolf was so circumspect in his conduct that Clo was kept in the state of high good humor befitting the glory of her new turban, and the first brightness of the change which had come upon her prospects.
The truth was, the day before, while she was peeling onions, Dolf grew desperate, and was led on to that point beyond which there was no turning back. Clo had grown tender and confidential—he learned the amount of her fortune—five hundred hard dollars in the bank. After this the happiness of that sable pair was supreme. For the moment she really looked beautiful in his eyes, and with tears in their depths—the result of affection, not of the onions he assured her—he implored her to make him the happiest of men. He performed his part in the most grandiloquent style, dropping on one knee as he had seen lovers do from the upper loft of the Bowery Theatre, and holding her hands fast, one of which grasped a knife and the other an onion.
Before they were disturbed matters were completely settled, though Dolf pleaded for the engagement being kept secret a little while.
"I jis' want to see what dat ole parson'll say," he averred, though the truth was, Dolf had been so indiscreet in his protestations to Victoria that he was a little fearful of consequences if that high-spirited damsel learned the news without a little preparation.
"Nebber you mind de parson," said Clo; "laws, I wouldn't wipe my ole shoes on him, 'sides it ed be something wuth while jis' to denounce our connubiolity to de hull company dis ebening."
But Dolf flattered and persuaded until she consented to comply with his wishes.
Victoria had been so much occupied above stairs that she found no opportunity for observation, otherwise Dolf's manner and the mysterious air of importance which Clo assumed, would have warned her that something extraordinary had happened.
Clo made Sally wait on her more than ever, boxed the girl's ears for her own mistakes, tried on new turbans, surveyed herself in the glass, and fluttered from room to room in the highest state of feminine triumph. Dolf tried his best to be happy, but it required a vivid recollection of the money lying in that bank to make him at all comfortable. He kept repeating to himself:
"Five hundred dollars! One—two—three—four—five!"
Then he would remember Victoria's youth and golden beauty, his own delicious freedom, and groan heavily. But he was sure to bring up his spirits again by muttering, vigorously: