"She has no fortune, but what does that matter?" he said to himself, magnanimously. "I have enough for both. When she goes with me to the theatre she will excite the admiration of all, and all the young men in society will envy me. Egad! I must marry her."
Rose, however, had as yet shown no signs of admiring Mr. Parkinson. Indeed, the superintendent had good reason to doubt whether she even esteemed him. He saw, however, that she was poor. Marriage with him would bring her comfort, and even a moderate degree of luxury; upon this he depended for a favorable issue to his suit. As to her being poor, that was evident enough. To be sure, she was well dressed, but no one who is in good circumstances takes vests to make at thirty-five cents apiece. Besides, he knew where she lived, for the vest-makers were obliged to leave their addresses with their names; and he had passed through Bleecker street, and seen for himself the shabby tenement-house in which Rose lived.
"I wish she might become poorer still," said Mr. Parkinson to himself; "then I would have a chance to step in as her good angel and relieve her from suffering. She couldn't help being drawn to me."
When Rose called and desired pay for the two vests which she had completed, Mr. Parkinson was pleased; it showed that she was becoming harder pressed by poverty.
"Daniells," he said to the examining clerk, "when Miss Beaufort calls with her package of vests I want you to object to the quality of her work."
"But, Mr. Parkinson, her work is always well done," objected Daniells.
"Oh, well, you can always find faults. Just say that she must see me before you feel authorized to pay her."
"What's your game, Mr. Parkinson?" asked Daniells.
Mr. Parkinson winked significantly.