Poikilus reported that the money was in good hands. He had seen the lady. She made no secret of the thing--the sum was 4,900 pounds, and she said half belonged to her and half to a gentleman. She did not know him, but her agent, Ashmead, did. Poikilus added that he had asked her would she honor that gentleman's draft? She had replied she should be afraid to do that; but Mr. Ashmead should hand it to him on demand. Poikilus summed up that the lady was evidently respectable, and the whole thing square. Severne posted this letter to his cousin, under cover, to show him he was really going to clear his estate, but begged him to return it immediately and lend him 50 pounds. The accommodating cousin sent him 50 pounds, to aid him in wooing his heiress. He bought her a hoop ring, apologized for its small value, and expressed his regret that all he could offer her was on as small a scale, except his love. She blushed, and smiled on him, like heaven opening. “Small and great, I take them,” said she; and her lovely head rested on his shoulder. They were engaged. From that hour he could command a _te'te-'a-te'te_ with her whenever he chose, and his infernal passion began to suggest all manner of wild, wicked and unreasonable hopes. Meantime there was no stopping. He soon found he must speak seriously to Vizard. He went into his study and began to open the subject. Vizard stopped him. “Fetch the other culprit,” said he; and when Zoe came, blushing, he said, “Now I am going to make shorter work of this than you have done. Zoe has ten thousand pounds. What have you got?” “Only a small estate, worth eight thousand pounds, that I hope to clear of all incumbrances, if I can get my money.” “Fond of each other? Well, don't strike me dead with your eyes. I have watched you, and I own a prettier pair of turtledoves I never saw. Well, you have got love and I have got money. I'll take care of you both. But you must live with me. I promise never to marry.” This brought Zoe round his neck, with tears and kisses of pure affection. He returned them, and parted her hair paternally. “This is a beautiful world, isn't it?” said he, with more tenderness than cynicism this time. “Ah, that it is!” cried Zoe, earnestly. “But I can't have you say you will never be as happy as I am. There are true hearts in this heavenly world; for I have found one.” “I have not, and don't mean to try again. I am going in for the paternal now. You two are my children. I have a talisman to keep me from marrying. I'll show it you.” He drew a photograph from his drawer, set round with gold and pearls. He showed it them suddenly. They both started. A fine photograph of Ina Klosking. She was dressed as plainly as at the gambling-table, but without a bonnet, and only one rose in her hair. Her noble forehead was shown, and her face, a model of intelligence, womanliness, and serene dignity. He gazed at it, and they at him and it.