Taking her seat near the centre-table, Selina endeavoured to engage her guest in conversation, lest he should go away without his money. But, too little accustomed to the world and its contingencies to feel at all at her ease on this occasion, not having courage to mention the cent, and afraid every moment that Mr. Robertson would rise to take his leave, she became more and more embarrassed, sat uneasily on her chair, kept her eyes on the floor, except when she stole glances at her visiter to see if he showed any symptoms of departure, and looked frequently towards the door, hoping the arrival of Ovid. Unconscious of what she was doing, our heroine took a camellia japonica from a vase that stood on the table, and having smelled it a dozen times (though it is a flower that has no perfume) she began to pick it to pieces. Mr. Robertson stopped frequently in the midst of a long story about a speculation in sperm oil, his attention being continually engaged by the evident perturbation of the young lady. But when he saw her picking to pieces the camellia which she had pressed to her nose and to her lips, he was taken with a sudden access of gallantry, and stalking up to her, and awkwardly stretching out his hand at arm's length, he said, in a voice intended to be very sweet--"Miss Mansel, will you favour me with that flower?" Selina, not thinking of what she did, hastily dropped the camellia into his out-spread palm, and ran to meet her servant Ovid, whom she saw at that moment coming into the house. She stopped him in the hall, and eagerly held out her hand, while Ovid slowly and carefully counted into it, one by one, ten half dollars, telling her that he had been nearly all over town with the note, as "change is always _scace_ of an afternoon." "How vexatious!" said Selina, in a low voice--"You have brought me no cents. It was particularly a cent that I wanted--a cent above all things. Did I not tell you so?--I am sure I thought I did." Ovid persisted in declaring that she had merely desired him to get the note changed, and that he thought "nobody needn't wish for better change than all big silver,"--but feeling in his pocket, he said "he believed, if Miss Selina would let him, he could lend her a cent." However, after searching all his pockets, he found only a quarter of a dollar. "But," added he, "I can go in the kitchen and ax if the women hav'n't got no coppers. Ah! Miss Selina--your departed aunt always kept her pocket full." Selina then desired him to go immediately and inquire for a cent among the women. She then returned to the parlour, and Mr. Robertson, having nothing more to say, rose to take his leave. During her absence from the room, he had torn off the back of a letter, folded in it the half-demolished camellia japonica, and deposited it in his waistcoat pocket. Selina begged him to stay a few minutes longer, and she went into the kitchen to inquire in person about the cent.