“It does. You know her father lost every thing by the failure of the ‘Great Regulator,’ and has since, I am told, been in very reduced circumstances. To-day, this instrument was sent here, and shortly after one of his daughters came in, and requested that it might be sold, either at public or private sale. She asked, as a particular favor, that as liberal an advance as we could afford might be made upon it. I offered her a hundred dollars, but the smallness of the sum seemed to disappoint her. She said it had cost a thousand dollars, and had never been used a great deal. ‘Do you want the money particularly to-day?’ I asked. ‘Yes, I must have it to-day!’ she replied. There was something so anxious and earnest in her voice, that my sympathies were awakened for her, and I told her to call again this afternoon, and I would consult Mr. Trist, and see if we could venture to make a larger advance. I wish I could meet with a purchaser for it, in the mean time, at a fair price, so as to be able to hand her about three hundred dollars instead of one. Now there is a romantic incident for you. Don’t you feel tempted to buy the piano?” “What price do you set upon it?” “Three hundred dollars.” “Isn’t that low?” “Very low. But it is second hand; and three hundred dollars is a high price to get for a second-hand instrument. I am doubtful if even this will bring it.” “You say it cost a thousand?” “Yes.” “Too great a sacrifice, that, indeed.” “Well, suppose you take it at five hundred dollars?” said the auctioneer, smiling. “You’ll get a bargain, then. No doubt the family want the money bad enough, and will have their hearts gladdened by the unexpected receipt of so large a sum.” “Isn’t it really worth more? Has the use of it reduced its value one half?” “No, not one fourth. But, it is second hand, you know, and that always takes fifty per cent. from the estimated value of almost anything.” Albertson reflected a few moments, and then said, “If you will promise me, and faithfully keep the promise, not to mention my name in the transaction to any one, I will buy this piano, and pay you seven hundred dollars for it. The money shall be here in an hour.” “Agreed. No one shall be the wiser of your agency in the matter. Seven hundred dollars! It will set the girl wild.” “No danger of that, I presume. Her mind, I hope, is more firmly balanced.” After another pause for reflection, Albertson said, in a tone of confidence, “Of course, Lee, I need hardly tell you, that something besides mere impulse has prompted me to buy this piano, and pay four hundred dollars more for it than you asked. I say this, because your mind would naturally infer it, and also because I wish a little service, and don’t want too many into my secrets. You are acquainted with Jones, of the firm of Milford & Jones, jewelers, I believe.” “Oh, yes, very well.”