Meanwhile Lenore sat silent at the window, looking down upon the noisy streets, with their rolling carriages and the stream of passers-by; and while she wondered if any of these had ever felt the secret anxiety, fear, and dejection which the last few years had brought her young heart, one of the throng would now and then look up to the plate-glass windows of the stately dwelling, and, his eye resting admiringly on the beautiful girl, he perhaps envied the happy destiny of the nobly born, who could thus look calmly down on those whose lot it was to toil for daily bread. The streets grew dim, the lamps threw their dull rays into the room, Lenore watched the play of light and shade on the wall, and her sadness increased as the darkness deepened. Meanwhile two men were standing in eager conversation at the house door; the bell sounded, a heavy step was heard in the ante-room, and the servants announced Mr. Pinkus. At that name the baron rose, called for candles, and went to the next room. The innkeeper entered, bobbing his great head, but seemed in no hurry to speak. "What brings you here so late?" asked the baron, leaning on the table like one prepared for every thing. "Your honor knows that the bill of exchange for the ten thousand dollars falls due to me to-morrow." "Could you not wait till I paid you your full ten per cent. for an extension of the loan?" asked the baron, contemptuously. "I am come," said Pinkus, "to explain that I am suddenly in want of money, and must request you to let me have the principal." The baron retreated a step. This was the second blow, and it was mortal. His face turned pale yellow, but he began with a hoarse voice to say, "How can you make such a demand, after all that has passed between us? how often have you assured me that this bill of exchange was a mere form!" "It has been so hitherto," said Pinkus; "now it comes into force. I have ten thousand dollars to pay to-morrow to a creditor of mine." "Make arrangements with him, then," returned the baron; "I am prepared for a higher rate of interest, but not to pay off the principal." "Then, baron, I am sorry to tell you that you will be proceeded against." The baron silently turned away. "At what hour may I return to-morrow for my money?" inquired Pinkus. "At about this hour," replied a voice, weak and hollow as that of an old man. Pinkus bobbed again and went away. The baron tottered back to his sitting-room, where he sank down on the sofa as if paralyzed. Lenore knelt by him, calling him by every tender name, and imploring him to speak. But he neither saw nor heard, and his heart and head beat violently. The fair, many-colored bubble that he had blown had burst now; he knew the fearful truth--he was a ruined man.