"I cannot let you retire, Della, without telling you how much you have pleased and gratified a father's heart this night. I am more than ever proud of you; you will well adorn the station in which Delville can place you. Bless you, Della. Good night."
"Good night, papa."
Della moved gracefully away, and slowly mounted the broad staircase leading to her chamber.
"No blessing of love—no blessing of affection," she murmured softly, as she went on, step by step—"only a blessing through his pride—cold, hollow, empty pride, with nothing noble, nothing lofty in it; having for foundation only an eligible match for me, or my station, or my appearance. What a life, what a life!"
Della expected to find Minny asleep, as the hour was late; but when she entered her apartment, Minny was
there, walking the floor with her hands clasped thoughtfully before her.
"Undress me, Minn. I am weary—weary."
"Haven't you been happy, Miss?" asked the girl, as she knelt to unfasten the slender slipper from the pretty foot.
"Yes—and no, Minn. If triumph could make me happy, I must have been, so far as that is concerned; but in thinking of you I have been unhappy; and I have thought of you all the evening."
"Of me, Miss, in the midst of all that gaiety!"