“‘Out of the way—quick—be off—or I will have you taken up for a vagrant!’ cried the pompous gentleman, elevating his gold-headed cane and shaking it over her head. Hastings, you should have seen the bright glow of indignation which flushed the cheeks of my charmer as this rude speech met her ear! My good genius nudged my elbow, and prompted me to pity the poor child. ‘Come here, my dear, and I will buy your flowers,’ I said. The frightened little girl sprung quickly to my side and looked imploringly up in my face. ‘And where do you live?’ I continued, confident that the eyes of the fair one were upon me, and taking out my tablets, I affected to note down her answer—then slipping some money into her hand, (what improvidence you will say,) I added—‘Keep the flowers, my poor child, perhaps you can sell them again.’ ’Pon my soul, the look of approbation which beamed from her eyes, as mine _casually_ glanced toward the beautiful unknown, would have melted the heart of a miser to compassion. The crowd now began to move. In passing the little flower-girl my divinity endeavored to slip some money into her hand, but in the confusion and press of the moment it fell upon the pavement. I quickly picked it up and gave it to the child, and—lucky dog—received a bow of thanks and a sweet smile as my reward. Now mark the continued favors of the jade Fortune. That very evening, I don’t know what tempted me to call upon those prosy, clever people the Livermores, and there who should I meet but the same bewitching fair one. Ah, Hastings, ‘there is a divinity that shapes our ends;’ have I not proved it to you? I saw at once she recognized me as the hero of the morning’s adventure, and having then made my appearance in the character of _excellence_, I now topped the same part to perfection. I found her as far superior in mental as in personal charms to those around her, and when my hostess whispered me that she was also the uncontrolled mistress of a fortune, my heart melted at once—_in the crucible of Mammon!_ The next day I took the liberty to call upon her, and was most graciously received, and have been a frequent visiter since. You should hear my conversation, Hastings—you would discredit the evidence of your senses. I affect morality and virtue—quote Cowper and Milton, and hint at charities committed _sub-rosa_. Think of becoming the husband of such a young, pretty dove-eyed creature—ay, and to husband the money, too, instead of marrying age and deformity for the sake of the gilding! By the way, I find my fair one wastes her fortune prodigiously upon paupers and charitable institutions. I shall look after this by and by; in the meantime, I am willing she should consider me a pattern of disinterested goodness.