Glancing upward, he saw a patrician-looking gentleman, in a handsome morning-gown, of Oriental fashion, and slippers richly embroidered. He was reclining on a lounge, with wreaths of smoke floating before him; but seeing the stranger, he rose, and taking the amber-tubed cigar from his mouth, he said, half laughing,-- "You seem to be in hot haste, Sir. Pray, what have you been hunting?" Alfred also laughed, as he replied,-- "I have been chasing a charming little girl, who would not be caught. Perhaps she was your daughter, Sir?" "She _is_ my daughter," rejoined the gentleman. "A pretty little witch, is she not? Will you walk in, Sir?" Alfred thanked him, and said that he was in search of a Mr. Duncan, whose residence was in that neighborhood. "I am Mr. Duncan," replied the patrician. "Jack, go and fetch the gentleman's hat, and bring cigars." A negro obeyed his orders, and, after smoking awhile on the veranda, the two gentlemen walked round the grounds. Once when they approached the house, they heard the pattering of little feet, and Mr. Duncan called out, with tones of fondness,-- "Come here, Loo Loo! Come, darling, and see the gentleman who has been running after you!" But the shy little fairy ran all the faster, and Alfred saw nothing but the long red ribbons of her gypsy hat, as they floated behind her on the wind. Declining a polite invitation to dine, he walked back to the city. The impression on his mind had been so vivid, that, as he walked, there rose ever before him a vision of that graceful arch with waving vines, the undulating flight of the silver-breasted doves, and the airy motions of that beautiful child. How would his interest in the scene have deepened, could some sibyl have foretold to him how closely the Fates had interwoven the destinies of himself and that lovely little one! When he entered the counting-room, he found his employer in close conversation with Mr. Grossman, a wealthy cotton-broker. This man was but little more than thirty years of age, but the predominance of animal propensities was stamped upon his countenance with more distinctness than is usual with sensualists of twice his age. The oil of a thousand hams seemed oozing through his pimpled cheeks; his small gray eyes were set in his head like the eyes of a pig; his mouth had the expression of a satyr; and his nose seemed perpetually sniffing the savory prophecy of food. When the clerk had delivered his message, he slapped him familiarly on the shoulder, and said,-- "So you've been out to Duncan's, have you? Pretty nest there at Pine Grove, and they say he's got a rare bird in it; but he keeps her so close, that I could never catch sight of her. Perhaps you got a peep, eh?" "I saw a very beautiful child of Mr. Duncan's," replied Alfred, "but I did not see his wife." "That's very likely," rejoined Grossman; "because he never had any wife." "He said the little girl was his daughter, and I naturally inferred that he had a wife," replied Alfred.