"She must then have deceived you. I am certain she is the betrothed of General Delville, who this moment converses with her in the parlor."
"You, sir, may be the one deceived. Della would not leave you without giving you a knowledge of her love. She bade me come to you, to ask her of you openly, and to tell you all."
"Then, sir, once for all, let me tell you, you talk in vain; never will my pride permit my beautiful child—she whom I have educated and trained to grace the home of the first in our land—to become the humble bride of a hireling clerk. Out upon you, for daring to ask it!"
"And where would be the pride you boast of, should I choose to bruit to the world those tales that I could tell, of long years of practiced deception and guilt on your part—of wealth acquired by fraudulent means—of midnight hours of watchfulness, which have brought you ship-loads of contraband goods—of days and weeks spent in devising means to escape the vigilance of our Government officers, of—"
Wilkins stopped suddenly, for Mr. Delancey fell back in his chair, groaning aloud. The head clerk held a glass of water to his lips, and he slowly recovered, and looked up
in his visitor's face with a beseeching glance in his cold gray eyes.
"I am in your power, but spare me! spare me! Have mercy on an old man, who is weak and erring, but whose withered heart clings to his only daughter!"
"You give me your consent?"
"Ask anything but that."
"And you prefer to have your name go forth to the world branded with shame and infamy, rather than give your daughter to an honest man, who will strive to make her a good husband, and whom she already loves?"