“Here is my card,” answered Auburn. “I am aware my presence here may appear somewhat singular, yet as I leave town early to-morrow, I must urge a few moments conversation with that young lady.” “Your boldness, sir, is unsurpassed. Miss Belden cannot have the honor of seeing you.” The reply of Auburn was interrupted by the sudden appearance of that young lady, whom, we must frankly confess, had, with Emma, been playing the part of eaves-dropper, and fearing her father would really drive the rash youth away without an interview, which her love of mischief tempted her to grant. She broke from the entreaties of her cousin, and stepped quietly into the room. “Ah, here is my daughter,” added Mr. Belden. “Now, sir, your business—what have you to say?” But poor Auburn had nothing to say. That Miss Belden was not the one he sought, a glance sufficed to assure him; and Margaret, too, most provokingly assumed a stately never-saw-you-before-sir air, which rendered his embarrassment tenfold. “I beg your pardon for this intrusion, Miss Belden,” said he at length, “for which I can offer no excuse, except that I have been laboring under a delusion,” and bowing, he was about to leave the apartment, when, by chance, his eye fell upon a music-book, on which the name of “Emma Willis” was inscribed. A drowning man will catch at a straw—so will a desperate lover. Turning abruptly he now hazarded the inquiry, “Is Miss Willis at home?” “Miss Willis is at home,” coldly answered Mr. Belden. Auburn’s heart throbbed tumultuously. “Can I see her for a moment?” he eagerly demanded. “_No, sir, you cannot!_” exclaimed Mr. Belden now rising, and angrily confronting his visiter; “and by what right, sir, do you longer intrude upon my family? Your conduct at least warrants suspicion. You first inquire for Miss Belden—you equivocate—you acknowledge yourself mistaken, and then demand an interview with my niece. Pray, what authority have you for such proceedings—you are not acquainted with the young lady, I believe?” “No, sir, I am not,” replied Auburn, now fully restored to his senses, “and until to-day I acknowledge I never saw either this lady (bowing to Miss Belden,) or Miss Willis. Again I ask pardon for my intrusion. I know appearances are much against me; but the interest awakened in my bosom for your lovely niece, even in those few brief moments when it was my happiness to see her, and the fact that I am forced to leave the city to-morrow, is all I can urge in favor of my rashness; it was this alone which inspired me with boldness to call here.” “Boldness, indeed! If this is all you have to say in extenuation, I, young sir, shall have the boldness to show you the door, and request a speedy retreat therefrom,” cried Mr. Belden.