While the evening was passing so pleasantly with Elsie, the principal personages below stairs were holding a subdued revel in the housekeeper's room.

Miss Dinah had come up from the village, and her ebony suitor was expected. With that and their delight at Miss Elsie's improvement, the whole staff was in excellent spirits.

"It's one ob dem 'casions," said Dolf, "when we ort ter do somethin' a little out ob de common run—what do yer say, Miss Clorindy?"

Clo smiled affably; certain explanations had passed between her and Dolf on the previous day, which made her inclined to consider any proposal of his with high favor.

She summoned her unfortunate drudge Sally, and ordered her to set the table at once.

"And don't spend yer time a gaupin' at Miss Dinah's new dress," said she, severely; "'taint manners, nohow."

The truth was Sally had not observed the gown, but its bright crimson had struck Clorinda's fancy, and being tempted to stare at it enviously herself, she concluded the girl must be doing the same thing.

"Jis' obsarve what Miss Clorindy tells yer," remarked Dolf, "and yer'll be on the road ter 'provement; Sally, yer couldn't hab a more reficient guide."

Clo bridled and grew radiant; she cast a glance of triumph at Dinah, and only regretted that Victoria had not yet come downstairs to hear these benign words.

"I 'spect Othello won't get here till late," said Dinah, beginning to fear that the good things would all have disappeared before his arrival. "Der's some meeting at de hotel, and he'll be kept dar—de gemmen tinks nobody else can wait on em."

"He desarves deir 'preciation," said Dolf, loftily, with the air of a man so supremely great that he could well afford to allow ordinary people to claim their little virtues unchallenged.

"Wal," said Clo, "arter all it needs trabbel and the world to develop a man proper."

"Jis' so, Miss Clorindy; yer's allers rezact."

He gave her a very tender glance, and Clo giggled in delightful confusion.

"But I tell you, Mr. Othello mustn't lose his share of 'freshment," pursued Dolf, anxious to secure as many extra meals as possible. "Miss Clo, will you permit me to make a proposition?"

"I'll feel it an honor," said Clo.

"Yer does me proud," returned Dolf with a profound bow, while Dinah sat quite aghast at their stateliness and high breeding, and Sally began to think Clo must speak Spanish as well as Dolf.

"I moves we has our tea now," said Dolf; "it's a sort of delercate compliment to Miss Elsie to eat when she does, and later in de ebenin' arter Mr. Othello comes we might make a brile ob dat chicken in de closet—marster don't eat nothin', and I'se afeared it'll be wasted."

Clo was complaisance itself, and went to work while Dolf encouraged her with his smiles.

By the time Victoria came downstairs the table was spread sumptuously, and in order to carry out Dolf's extraordinary idea of complimenting Miss Elsie, there were sweetmeats and cakes, hot muffins, cold tongue, and stores of eatables that brought the water into Dolf's crafty mouth.

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:

"Five hundred dollars! One—two—three—four—five!"

But it was a season of holiday delight to Clorinda. The highest aspiration of her spinster soul was soon to be gratified—she would have a husband! No long engagement for her; she made up her mind to that on the moment. With that yellow bird once in the cage, she was not going to lose time in closing the door—not she!

She fed her intended to repletion with dainties, and it spoke marvels for his digestion that after all the dinner he had eaten he could make such havoc among the cake and preserves, still looking complacently forward to the prospect of broiled chicken. Crisp crullers disappeared like frostwork in his nimble jaws, he laid in a very unnecessary stock of tongue considering his natural advantages that way, made a dismal cavern of an immense fruitcake, and softened the effect with a whole mould of apricot jelly.

Dinah and Vic certainly kept him in countenance, but Clorinda rather trifled with the sweets, drinking so much strong tea in her pleasurable agitation, that to an observer given to ludicrous ideas, her jetty face would have suggested the idea of an old fashioned black teapot, with her pug nose for the chubby spout. Sally witnessed this dashing festival from behind the door, scraped up the jelly left in the glasses, stole bits of toast and muffins on their road to the table, and solaced her appetite on various fragments, till at last, growing bold and getting hungry, she crept to the pantry and purloined half a pumpkin pie. Until it had disappeared, like a train down a tunnel, she never remembered that Clo was sure to miss it in the morning, but reflected, in her fright, that it was possible to shut the cat up in the closet at bedtime, and so escape detection.

After tea Dolf brought out a pack of cards—a pack which had mysteriously disappeared from the library table some time before—and inducted the ladies into the mysteries of sundry little games, winning their pennies easily and cheating them without the slightest compunction.

That was a point beyond Clo, she could not lose her money even to Dolf, and vowed from that time out she would only play for pins.

"Gamblin's wicked," she said, virtuously.

So they played for pins, and Dolf allowed her to be the gainer. When she lost, Clo gave crooked ones in payment, and thus her high spirits were preserved untarnished.